Why the IRGC Fears Artists: The Power of Creative Resistance

In a society where speaking the truth can get you imprisoned, tortured, or disappeared, creativity becomes not just expression—but rebellion.

For decades, Iran’s Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps (IRGC) has wielded a brutal grip over politics, the economy, and culture. It censors music, jails filmmakers, monitors bookshops, and bans dance. But despite this, artists inside and outside Iran continue to resist—not with guns, but with words, paint, sound, and movement.

Why does the IRGC fear them? Because in the battle for Iran’s soul, art reaches places bullets never can.

1. Art Challenges Power Without Permission

The IRGC thrives on control. It controls the narrative, the press, the internet, and the classroom. But art—especially in its rawest form—is uncontrollable. A rap lyric goes viral. A mural appears overnight. A poem circulates in whispers, igniting hearts.

Where politicians are silenced, artists create space to imagine freedom. And the regime knows: once people can imagine freedom, they will demand it.

That’s why the IRGC targets artists—because art speaks to the people in their own language.

2. Every Medium Is a Battleground

Visual Arts:

From graffiti on Tehran’s alleys to digital art shared in exile, visuals bypass censorship. They make martyrs immortal and injustice impossible to ignore. Portraits of Mahsa Amini painted on crumbling walls haunt the regime more than a thousand slogans.

 Music:

Rap has become Iran’s protest soundtrack. Artists like Toomaj Salehi face imprisonment because they rhyme about corruption, police brutality, and oppression. Their words galvanize a generation the IRGC cannot control.

 Film:

Iranian cinema is a global treasure—and a threat to the regime. Directors like Jafar Panahi and Mohammad Rasoulof are repeatedly imprisoned for telling truths the IRGC wants buried. But films escape. They win awards. They testify.

 Dance & Performance:

Women dancing without hijab, even in private spaces, are routinely arrested. Why? Because movement is autonomy. Because a body in motion defies control. The IRGC fears the body that refuses to obey.

3. Women Artists Lead the Frontline

Nowhere is the IRGC’s fear more visible than in its treatment of women artists.

Women singers are banned from solo public performance. Women writers are policed. Women dancers are surveilled and humiliated online by cyber forces.

But women resist. Loudly.

From the prison writings of Narges Mohammadi to the revolutionary brushstrokes of Marjane Satrapi, women wield art as both mirror and sword—reflecting the regime’s ugliness, and cutting through its lies.

4. Censorship Is Fuel, Not Fire

The IRGC uses cyber units, morality police, and Basij agents to suppress artistic expression. But repression often backfires. When an artwork is banned, it becomes more powerful. When a song is forbidden, it spreads underground.

The very act of censorship proves the art’s power.

Artists don’t stop. They adapt:

 • Publishing anonymously

 • Creating in exile

 • Using NFTs, VPNs, blockchain

 • Encoding political messages in folk art, humor, and metaphor

The more the IRGC tightens its grip, the more creativity slips through its fingers.

5. The Global Echo Chamber

Exiled Iranian artists are amplifying voices the IRGC tries to silence:

 • Diaspora musicians like Shahin Najafi write protest anthems banned in Iran.

 • Filmmakers abroad document atrocities from afar.

 • Digital illustrators design protest posters for global marches.

These creators build transnational bridges—connecting Iranian struggles with global movements for justice, gender equality, and freedom of speech.

In Berlin, Paris, Toronto, and LA, art exhibitions titled “Woman, Life, Freedom” keep Iran in the spotlight—and the IRGC in the crosshairs of international scrutiny.

6. Creative Memory Is Justice’s First Draft

The IRGC’s crimes thrive in darkness. Art is light. Through illustration, poetry, and film, artists preserve memory:

 • Of bloodied streets and fallen youth

 • Of prisoners silenced but not forgotten

 • Of everyday acts of rebellion that history must remember

This creative memory is a future evidence file. A poetic indictment. A visual testimony.

One day, in international courtrooms or truth commissions, these pieces may speak louder than any lawyer.

7. The IRGC’s Cultural Propaganda Can’t Compete

Yes, the IRGC funds pro-regime films, music, and “Islamic values” influencers. But propaganda is hollow. People know the difference between controlled messaging and authentic expression.

State TV cannot outshine the truth of underground music.

Basij billboards cannot erase graffiti that cries for freedom.

And as artists continue to create—not for money, but for truth—the regime’s cultural narrative collapses under its own weight.

8. Fear of Imagination Is Fear of Liberation

Why does the IRGC fear art?

Because imagination is dangerous. It lets people dream of a different Iran—an Iran without secret police, without torture cells, without a state in control of every breath.

Art allows Iranians to live freely, even if only for a moment. That moment is revolutionary.

In the words of imprisoned poet Baktash Abtin:

“They can cage our bodies, but never our verses.”

9. What Allies Can Do

Supporting Iranian artists isn’t charity—it’s solidarity. Here’s how:

 • Showcase banned art in exhibitions and festivals.

 • Support artists-in-exile through fellowships and grants.

 • Translate and publish Iranian literature, comics, and film subtitled in multiple languages.

 • Pressure governments to provide asylum and protection for persecuted creators.

Most importantly, listen to their work. Share their work. Protect their right to create.

Conclusion

In the struggle against the IRGC, creativity is not a side story. It is the centerpiece of resistance. It sustains spirits, documents crimes, spreads truth, and lights the way forward.