Away from the regime, Iranian Australians still carry a deep sorrow

False accusations and mistrust divide Iranian diaspora from within Mon 29 Jun 2026 at 4:53am Sara has been accused of being a "blood-washer" and "traitor" by members of the Iranian community in Australia, her own community, because of her political beliefs. The Melbourne-based data analyst is one of many Iranian Australians grappling with mistrust, harassment and isolation among a diaspora deeply traumatised by an oppressive regime. "I mostly felt the loneliness from my community during the past few months," said Sara, who requested to use a pseudonym to protect her privacy. In Persian, the term "blood-washer" refers to the washing away or cover-up of deaths from the Iranian government's violent crackdown during the mass demonstrations in early 2026. But the label has also been used to accuse those who do not support Reza Pahlavi, the son of the exiled king who many anti-regime supporters consider their figurehead, of being complicit with the regime. While Sara and her family do not support a monarchy, they also oppose the government. "In Iran, I got arrested. I was questioned and intimidated many times by security, or by different authorities," she said. Her parents and some relatives spent time in jail in Iran for political dissent. But it did not stop her friends, including her best friend of 12 years, from accusing her of being a regime sympathiser. After the death of Ayatollah Ali Khamenei, a monarchist at a Melbourne rally yelled in Sara's face and accused her of being a "traitor" for not chanting Mr Pahlavi's name. "I was frozen. I couldn't speak, I couldn't move. He was drunk," she said. Sara is unsure of what he would have done had those around her not intervened to de-escalate the situation. "Many people like me who are anti-monarchists can't say it aloud because if you're anti-monarchy [people think] it means you are with the regime,"she said. Sara said this binary view reflected the polarisation within the Australian Iranian community, leaving her unsure of who to trust. "People of Iran are very, very angry and desperate. They don't know what to do," she said. A trust deficit University PhD student Maryam "loves her life" in Melbourne and "wouldn't want to live anywhere else". But coming from a family of political dissidents who have been jailed in Iran means she is careful about who she befriends because of ethical and safety considerations. "I would never, never get close to anyone who is remotely connected to the government, never … That's my red line," said Maryam, who also requested to use a pseudonym. Australian security and intelligence agencies have acknowledged the Iranian government uses transnational repression, where threats of reprisal are employed to silence political dissenters and their families. Iran is home to about a dozen ethnicities and even more language groups mixing across religious, cultural and political backgrounds, but Maryam says society has fractured under the regime. "The neighbour can be the enemy of a neighbour because they don't share the same political beliefs," she said. She said this mindset had followed people into Australia even among students. Social cohesion under strain Kambiz Razmara, a lawyer and the vice-president of the Australian Iranian Society of Victoria, has called Australia home for more than 40 years. He said while cultural unity over language, poetry and food remained strong, cohesion along social and political lines was fragile. Many people remained uncertain about the extent hostile actors, criminal networks or state-linked individuals operated within diaspora environments, creating a culture of anxiety and mistrust. While allegations of regime-linked interference are difficult for ordinary members to verify, such broad suspicion is enough to harm social cohesion. He said decades spent under an authoritarian government where informant culture, political suppression and fear were common also fuelled distrust within parts of the Australian Iranian community. "Those dynamics do not simply disappear upon migration,"he said. Additionally for some community members unaccustomed to respectful debate, differences in opinion can lead to hostile, personalised or accusatory attacks, he said. "Many people come from environments where political disagreement carried real consequences, where trust in institutions was low and where open democratic participation was limited," he said. This can escalate into intimidation, doxxings, smear campaigns and surveillance, he said. The digital space had become a major concern for the community because it amplified misinformation and exacerbated the personal and psychological damage, Mr Razmara said. 'Unlucky' being born an Iranian Maryam misses a time when she lived in the same city as her parents. "You just go there and lie on the bed and try not to think about anything … it's not a luxury, but for me it's a luxury that I don't have," she said. Her parents live 12,000 kilometres away in Iran in a home that is old enough to still have a landline, a blessing during the nearly three-month internet blackout. But ringing overseas was expensive so calls to her mother, Maryam's biggest support, were quick. "In a minute of conversation, you cannot say anything, so you basically lie: 'Oh, I'm doing fine, what about you?' 'I'm doing fine.' 'OK, no bombs yay!' 'Cheers bye'." She describes an underlying melancholy of this emotional weight, the pressure to perform academically on a scholarship and lack of financial support, only soothed by therapy and medication. "We've been unlucky being born as Iranian," she said. While she has a great network of friends, it is hard for them to relate to her experience. "They listen to me but they cannot do much more, and I don't expect them to do much more," she said. Suffering overshadowed by oil prices The prolonged uncertainty of statelessness, family separation, and visa limbo contributed to the invisible but immense emotional trauma that many community members carried privately, Mr Razmara said. What was more hurtful was the suffering of Iran's people being overshadowed by the geopolitical contest, economic fallout and energy prices, he said. "Executions continue. Dissidents disappear. Families live with hopelessness and exhaustion. Yet their stories rarely remain in the public consciousness for long," Mr Razmara said. "Many in our community feel a profound sense of abandonment when humanitarian concern quickly gives way to strategic or political commentary." But what pained many Iranian Australians most was the suspicion some in Australia had about the community, because public and political criticism about the regime often spilled over to taint perceptions of its people. "For many of us who have built our lives in Australia, contributed professionally, employed people, raised families, paid taxes, and embraced our civic responsibilities, that hurts deeply," Mr Razmara said. He said people want to be judged for their actions, not by those of a regime they fled. Mr Razmara said many Iranian Australians felt pressured to continuously distinguish themselves from the regime while simultaneously defending their identity, culture and community. To encourage social cohesion in broader Australian society, public commentary needed to stop fuelling populist propaganda, he said. "We are proud Australians and residents of Australia. We are also proud of our Iranian heritage. Those identities are not contradictory."