Everyday resistance

A sudden sickness in the master's family or the death of livestock could send shivers down a colonist's spine, a quiet, terrifying reminder that they were living on a knife's edge.

This persistent everyday resistance was the silent drumbeat leading up to the main event.

It created a culture of defiance, a shared understanding that the current state of affairs was not natural or permanent.

It was in this climate of quiet desperation and simmering rage that the idea of a coordinated large-scale rebellion began to take root.

I mean, powerful in a way in terms of the emotions that they are expressing because the anger, the sadness, I mean, the grief, I mean, it was huge.

And, uh, this time it was much bigger than like the women life freedom movement, because many people know someone who was killed, you know, when you talk to people in Tehran and in the, I know in the article, I talk about the protest music, like the music that is that people either used in the protest, like Yaret Abastani, a man or produced for the purpose of the protest, you know, but, but, I was thinking about the subject, and it also connects to my recent trip to Tehran, that music has always been part of everyday resistance for Iranians, or at least for young people.

For example, I remember even during Khatami's first presidencies, not before that they were, they were, they exist, the checkpoints, but even during the first period of Khatami's presidencies, they were checkpoints in Tehran.

And if they saw young people were in the cars, like, um, they would search the car and the ones doing the searching were also the same age as us, you know, but they were part of the militia, the passage.