Enemies of the Same Regime: A Bomb Shelter Dialogue (U.S. Strikes in Iran, Part 2)
As missiles flew, I messaged an Iranian exile—an architect who defied the regime. A conversation about fear and shaping space when freedom is out of reach.
Early in the morning, a few hours after the USA bombed three nuclear sites in Iran, I left a message for Zelig, my new Iranian friend, happy that the Americans had carried out the attack. By the time he got back to me with “YESSSS! Finally!,” I was in the bomb shelter waiting to learn what the new barrage of Iranian rage against the Jewish state would bring.
Zelig expressed concern for me, reassuring me that “these thugs are too obliterated to do much damage.” But I was less afraid for myself in that moment and more curious about how the American strike had affected Iranian voices—both for and against the regime.
My curiosity had already resulted in Part 1 of this series: a Grok analysis of social media posts by pro- and anti-regime Iranians, both inside the country and in the diaspora.
Here, in Part 2, I share the private conversation Zelig and I had over messenger, while sirens still echoed outside. That was a few days ago, before the ceasefire. The delay is because I don’t publish conversations or interviews without review and Zelig had not been able to check it earlier.
The moment still matters, and so does the conversation that followed.
Zelig wrote that the main problem in Iran is the regime’s militias and proxies—not the Americans or the Israelis.
Nobody is worried about the Americans or the Israelis. Our concern is the terrorist groups operating in and around Iran—the Basijis and the elite NOPO forces.
The NOPO, he explained, is Iran’s so-called counterterrorist unit. In reality, it is the regime’s most feared anti-riot squad, used to violently suppress protest movements.
Militias outside Iran—Hezbollah, Hashd al-Shaabi in Iraq—have also been brought into Iran during uprisings to help crush protesters. They basically look like any other terrorist group: Hezbollah, Hamas, the terrorists in Yemen and Iraq… same thing, just different uniforms.
(When they wear uniforms, I thought to myself.)
Zelig believes those days are numbered.
As soon as the big guys in higher ranks are wiped out, the lower-ranking militia will have to decide whether they want to be on the right side of history and defect.
Israel’s final precise blows will put the IRGC and Basiji maggots in a position where they have to choose between life and a fair trial—or to die for the Islamic terrorist regime occupying Iran.
He estimated that 80% of these fighters are in it for survival: they need the salary to feed their families. But if someone is willingly armed and beating civilians, he said, then they should be held accountable.
I know a couple of people personally who hate Khamenei and his entire regime but keep quiet for the sake of their families. Some try to avoid doing their job duties by not conforming—but in ways that keep them safe.
I asked him for an example.
One man worked in a warehouse under a contractor for the Ministry of Defence. Instead of loading sensitive materials, he’d fill bags with dirt or irrelevant cargo. When they tried to send him to Syria to fight for Assad, he claimed injuries to his ear and head. Eventually, he told his supervisor: ‘If I accidentally target one of you, you won’t want that.’ They forced him into retirement with the lowest pension possible.
This man, Zelig told me, had been issued a new contract every year for over 20 years but was never hired permanently. He was sent out many times to beat protesters but always managed to avoid it—once by obtaining a note from a trusted physician stating he was on heavy medication and unable to carry out his duties.
I hope the terrorists will be caught alive and tried in court,” Zelig said. “Israelis are doing a great job hitting hard, but it would be a kindness toward us if they let Iranians do the last digging and drag Khamenei and his sons out of their rat hole.
He added:
The final blow should be a collaboration between Israel and the Iranian people to liberate both nations from these Islamic thugs.
He wanted Khamenei and his sons brought to court—not to be executed in vengeance, but tried properly.
It would be amazing to see them in a fair trial, not a sham one. It is my personal preference.
Perhaps the Iranian people need their own ‘Nazi’ trials, conducted in their own courts, to regain control of their destiny, ensure justice is carried out transparently, and reassert their national pride.
But… it wouldn’t be the end of the world if he is eliminated. If that happens, Iranians will get the courage to rush to the streets.
Then, unexpectedly, Zelig typed:
Those in favour of the regime—we call them cyber stooges. Or uninformed, ignorant, brainwashed wannabes.
I smiled and asked what the pro-regime side calls the anti-regime people.
Regime overthrowers,” he replied. “Overthrow activists.
That sounded oddly polite. The anti-regimers called the pro-regimers something that translated in my mind (at least in tone) as “shitheads,” and the regime loyalists replied with… “overthrowers”?
“That sounds too civilised,” I said.
“Oh no!” he replied. “Not at all!”
Something was clearly lost in cultural translation. I asked him to give me the terms in Persian, and I later consulted AI to explore their connotations. For length reasons, I’ve posted a linguistic analysis of the Persian terms and slurs as a separate piece in Part 2a.
Zelig’s Backstory
Zelig is married, and toward the end of our bomb shelter conversation, he opened up more about his life, adding details to what he had already shared. What follows is the full story, now woven into a cohesive narrative.
Flash forward… here I am, doing menial labour, suffering in silence. I hear antisemitic remarks in the workplace, but we wear our Jewish symbols whenever we can. I bought my wife a necklace online from Israel with the Hebrew letter aleph—she wears it all the time.
He and his wife were both born and raised in Iran and pursued their passions from a young age. Zelig studied architecture. His wife earned her degree in comparative literature.
“Creative or critical thinking is treated as a threat.”
We dreamed of building meaningful careers in our fields, but our hopes were stifled by the Islamic Republic’s control over every form of cultural expression. Creative or critical thinking is treated as a threat.
His wife, he said, was routinely policed for her appearance and voice. Even in university, she was expected to censor herself.
She was arrested once—for not wearing the Islamic headscarf.
Zelig was blacklisted from working in any official capacity as an architect because he refused to glorify the regime or participate in its propaganda. Instead, he pivoted into advertising—becoming a creative director and ad manager in Tehran.
It was the only outlet I could find that allowed some degree of creative work, even if tightly constrained. Meanwhile, my wife continued writing and studying in private, always afraid her words or online presence would be deemed subversive.
Their breaking point came when they left Iran to continue their studies abroad.
I began a Master’s degree, hoping to finally study and create freely. But our lives were in danger when the regime found out I was working under an Israeli employer. The regime considers that treason.
They fled to a third country and applied for asylum.
We detailed our fears of persecution and the danger posed by Iranian intelligence services. But our case was rejected.
They had no choice but to shift their status and obtain a work permit. Zelig now does physically demanding labour.
It’s a long way from design and shaping public spaces, but it’s a way to survive.
I asked if he thought he’d ever be able to return home.
Even if the regime falls tomorrow, we still couldn’t go back. I worked for an Israeli citizen, a wonderful human being, but that alone is enough to get me imprisoned or worse. My current employer also works in government security infrastructure and views the Iranian regime as a threat. So we’re trapped between two ‘crimes’.
On top of that, I have developed deep personal and spiritual ties to Jewish people, culture, and Kabbalistic traditions. Who knows what would happen to us in a chaotic transitional period? There’s no guarantee we’d be safe.
“We’d rather go somewhere where we’re respected, protected, and treated with dignity,” he concluded.
To me, it is sad that that place can’t be home. Not yet. Hopefully one day.
Zelig sounds like a good man. I hope this nightmare ends soon for Israelis and all Persians of goodwill. Evil is a disease of choice—a self-induced distortion of the human heart. I can’t sleep so here I am wondering about Zelig and the millions like him.
A heartbreaking and difficult account to hear. And then there are the ones who didn't get out and sit in abused silence in some dungeon.