Jin, Jiyan, Azadî’ Manifesto Political and social renaissance

Beyond the Lectures — Three Key Takeaways from “Iranian-ness in Transition”

1. An unprecedented polyphony of voices
The line-up of speakers—from historians and human-rights advocates to Kurdish and Baluchi researchers—was so diverse that it pulled “Iranian-ness” out of its classical single-voice mold. In the identity panels, … Sara Kermanian (Kurdish Movement), Mahtab Dara Sefat Mahboob (Diaspora Feminism), and Mohammad Rigi (Baluchi Movement) debating the very notion of the right to be heard.

2. Bridging theory and everyday life
One of the conference’s most valuable achievements was tying theoretical debates to on-the-ground data; the gender- and body-focused studies clearly illustrated how abstract theory can be woven into lived experience:

• Shirin Khayyambashi presented, “The Sexualised and Tabooed Iranian Woman: Queer Experience in Iran,” she unpacked how public discussion of gender and the body is suppressed—and demonstrated how sexual repression is tightly intertwined with political domination.
• Nastaran Sarmi talked about “Countless Faces: Data-centrism, National Identity, and Constitutive Power,” she examined how the quantification of public opinion can erase—or selectively repackage—the voices of marginalized groups.

3. Prospects for Future Collaboration (An Aspiration)
In side conversations at the conference, one idea surfaced: launching a “Democratic Justice & Equal Voice Working Group” that would link researchers and activists—from drafting local charters to monitoring decentralization policies. No formal structure has emerged yet, but if this group grows into a broad consultative process, it could move the conversation from academia to collective action. The stated ambition is for the next conference to resonate not only in lecture halls but also in public spaces across Iran and throughout the diaspora.

Public Intellectual: From Chomsky to Today’s Iran

The term public intellectual was first popularized in the 1960s by Noam Chomsky., a prominent American linguist and philosopher. In his landmark essay titled “The Responsibility of Intellectuals”,Chomsky defines the intellectual as someone who has the courage to speak truth to power and who sees themself not as a neutral spectator but as standing alongside the people. In his view, the intellectual’s duty is to expose information that power structures try to conceal, translate specialized knowledge into language the broader public can grasp, and defend the rights of those who cannot defend themselves.

Today, within Iran’s complex landscape, revisiting this model is not just important but essential. Iranian society—inside the country and across the diaspora—is multilingual, multinational, and deeply stratified. Domination operates not only in the economic realm but also along linguistic, gender, and religious lines. In such circumstances, any intellectual who remains in an “ivory tower” unwittingly helps reproduce those structures of domination. The contemporary Iranian intellectual must go a step further: translate the principle of “non-domination” into local idioms, anchor it in people’s lived realities, and—crucially—serve as bridge-builders among groups burdened by a long history of mutual distrust.

But beyond producing abstract content, the public intellectual must craft practical solutions—drawing up concrete proposals to strengthen Local councils and multilingual media outlets can be a crucial first step. Along the way, we must avoid romanticising the notion of the “majority.” Ideas should be measured against the standard of non-domination, not merely by the weight of majority votes. Ultimately, the more important task of today’s intellectual is to become not a stand-alone “authority,” but a facilitator—someone who passes the pen among all stakeholders and helps move the conversation from one-page statements to a genuinely collective roadmap.

The Public Intellectual, Democratic Justice, and Non-Domination

From the earliest days of the Constitutional Revolution to the present, the word “justice” has loomed large in Iranian left-wing discourse—yet that justice has usually been framed as “the fair distribution of resources.” The classic model for this view is the theory of John Rawls’ theory of justice tries to justify—or at least limit—economic inequalities through rules such as the difference principle: if inequalities exist, they must benefit the least-advantaged. The question “Who gets how much?” is vital, but not sufficient, because relations of domination cannot be reduced to income and asset ledgers alone. This is precisely where “democratic justice” and the concept of “non-domination” come into play. They become central in neo-republicanism thought, which asks: Who wields power over whom, and is that power subject to collective control—or is it not?

The past century and a half of Iranian history shows that even during periods when official policy emphasized redistribution—from the Pahlavi II land-reform era to the Islamic Republic’s cash-subsidy programs—large segments of society have continued to feel gravely wronged. Their sense of injustice stems not necessarily from being poorer, but from being voiceless. A clear example can be seen among non-Persian ethnic nations: Kurds in the 1940s, Khuzestani Arabs in the 1970s, and the Balochis throughout all these years have repeatedly protested that “No one has ever asked us what kind of future we wish to chart for our homeland.” This feeling of marginalisation cannot be remedied with budget reallocations or new infrastructure alone; its root lies in the structure of power itself.

Democratic Justice It puts forward a blueprint that goes beyond Rawls: guaranteeing the equal participation of all national and social groups in decision-making so that none remain under the yoke of structural domination. A concise definition would be: “Every individual and every collective must possess a real and effective right to influence the rules that shape their lives.” This right goes far beyond a merely token right to vote. IfIf a community—say, the people of Balochistan—has no real voice in setting its own educational, security, or environmental policies, then even a bigger development budget leaves it under domination, because its fate is still decided by actors beyond its control. Achieving democratic justice therefore requires institutionalising mechanisms that convert plural voices into binding decisions—for example, empowered local councils, free multilingual media, and a symmetrical devolution of power between centre and periphery. genuine local councils, free multilingual media, and a symmetrical devolution of power between the centre and the periphery. A concrete illustration of how crucial this right is can be seen in the Makran Development Plan—a mega-project launched without meaningful consultation with the Baloch community, which in turn fuelled local tensions and resistance.

Examples of domination in Iran are plentiful: a Kurdish pupil forced to study in a language other than her mother tongue; a woman who needs a male guardian’s permission to leave the country; a miner in Kerman working without a formal contract. In every one of these cases, the fundamental problem is the “relationship of domination itself,” not merely material inequality.These examples make it clear that genuine justice requires guaranteeing an equal right to participate and to wield effective decision-making power—what neo-republicanism theorists call fairness rooted in non-domination.

Therefore, if the Iranian Left wishes to move beyond the narrow concern of merely “distributing bread,” it must weave non-domination into the fabric of politics—where democratic justice guarantees an equal right to decision-making for every nation and group.

From a One-Page Statement to a Participatory Roadmap

From lofty declarations to dialogue-driven steps

Over the past two years, Iranian political groups have issued hundreds of aspirational statements—texts that call for change yet, lacking any implementation plan, often remain little more than slogans. The Charter of Minimum Demands signed by 20 civil organizations, made it clear that as long as power keeps being reproduced from above, there is no way out of the crises. Although independent of our project, this charter succeeded in turning the slogan to transform the slogan “Jin, Jiyan, Azadi” from a broad demand into a structural blueprint for liberation from domination.

On the other hand, “Jin, Jiyan, Azadi” manifesto series has been designed precisely to fill that gap—step-by-step documents that invite all stakeholders into

collective dialogue and pave the way toward a participatory roadmap. Thus, we move away from top-down lecturing and rely instead on an open, transparent process that allows for continual rewriting.

Inclusive Participation and the Lessons from Chile’s Experience

Now that the terminological distinction is clear, the next step is to focus on inclusive participation —the central theme of our project’s fifth manifesto. Chile’s recent experience with drafting a new constitution (2022) offers a stark warning: even a constitution-writing process conceived with the best intentions and the most progressive content can fail if it lacks sufficient social inclusion it could still collapse. In Chile, the draft constitution was rejected by 62 percent of voters—deemed too radical and unconvincing to conservative sectors of society. Although 80 percent of Chileans had initially backed the idea of writing a new charter, distrust of the Constitutional Convention gradually deepened, and many felt that the draft had become “detached from the masses.” That experience shows that a centrally designed, top-down process—even with the best intentions—can still fail. —no matter how well-intentioned—can fail if it lacks broad, grassroots engagement.For Iran’s future, this means that drafting a new constitution must draw not only on universal human-rights principles, but also begin at the very lowest levels—neighbourhoods, local councils— so that a genuine sense of collective ownership can take shape around it. Put differently, Iran’s future roadmap will succeed only when real conversations about constitutional principles unfold in every village and city—and the outcomes of those dialogues flow upward to the national level.

Non-Domination and Political Equality: Two Pillars of the Transition Blueprint

The first four manifestos in the “Jin, Jiyan, Azadi” series highlight two foundational principles: freedom from domination (non-domination) and political equality.

• Freedom from domination goes beyond negative liberty (mere non-interference); it hinges on the absence of arbitrary power that is, power that can step in at will. In the republican tradition, even if the state happens not to interfere in someone’s life at a given moment, the mere capacity for arbitrary intervention still threatens that person’s liberty.
• Political equality ensures that no individual or group can set the rules of the game unilaterally.

A century of experience—from the Pahlavi era to the Islamic Republic—shows that Iran’s power structure has consistently reserved for itself the right to unlimited intervention.


has preserved it—triggering periodic waves of public protest. To break this cycle, any future constitution must guarantee not only individual rights but also immunity from structural domination—something impossible without the rational redistribution of power and the creation of independent, accountable institutions.

A Ten-Step Roadmap for Transitioning to a Non-Dominating Republic:

Building on these principles, I proposed the following ten steps at the Oslo conference—a plan that could serve as the framework for a nationwide debate on a new constitution.

1. Formal recognition of pluralism — In the constitution’s preamble, designate Iran as a “Republic of Nations.”
2. A bicameral Constitutional Court — half of the judges elected by the National Assembly, the other half by the provincial assemblies.
3. Real-time budget transparency — a public website that shows every rial spent, instantly.
4. Rights-based confederalism — provinces control culture and education, while taxation and foreign policy stay joint responsibilities.
5. A “fourth branch” of government — an institution dedicated to mediating nationality-, gender-, and religion-related conflicts.
6. Sortition-based citizen conventions — break open political taboos by convening randomly selected citizens (for example, on drug policy).
7. Transitional justice — establish a Truth-and-Reconciliation Commission with at least 50 percent representation of women and minorities.
8. Stewardship economy — place natural resources in a “Solidarity Fund” overseen by an elected popular council.
9. Periodic constitutional review — every ten years, hold a two-question referendum: “Is a revision necessary?” and, if yes, “Do you approve the proposed text?”
10. Human-rights diplomacy — for international recognition, the state accepts a treaty that ties its legitimacy to upholding citizen-ratified human-rights standards, including:

• • Upgrading international human-rights covenants to constitutional rank.
  • Creating a parliamentary watchdog committee that publishes an annual compliance report.
  • The right of civil society organizations to complain to the Constitutional Court or international authorities in the event of a breach of obligation.

This roadmap weaves domestic and international legitimacy together, closing off any path back to arbitrary domination.

From Theory to Collective Activism

This proposal is not just an academic text; it is an invitation to action. The full version of each step is on the website. IranLifeAndLiberty.com It is published and readers can suggest reforms.The leader of this journey is not any single person or party, but the Iranian people themselves.

Slogan “Jen, Jian, Azadi” It is no longer just a chant in the streets; it is a map for living in a land where no voice is ever muted. Twenty-first-century Iran—breaking with the paradigms of past centuries—is striving to redefine itself: a country where rights are not a favor but a universal guarantee for everyone.

Facing resistance from dominant groups

It is self-evident that every just reform meets the entrenched resistance of those who have long enjoyed privilege. The failure of Chile’s progressive draft constitution in 2022 showed how distrust among affluent and conservative strata can derail an otherwise forward-looking project. In Iran as well, privileged urban elites—or the country’s authoritarian institutions—may regard broad participation from the margins as a direct threat to their advantages.

The answer is not confrontation; it is to widen the field of participation. We need to strengthen local and regional dialogues so that the demands of marginalized nations, faiths, and genders are made transparent and woven into any national agreement. “Jin Jian Azadi” movement is itself a historic example of inclusive solidarity: Persians, Kurds, Baloch, and Arabs have all cried out in unison for freedom and human dignity. That social capital can legitimise any future order—but only if consensus is built from the bottom up, in the open, rather than behind elites’ closed doors.

Conclusion: Non-Domination as the Shared Horizon

The “Jin Jian Azadi” movement has created a historic opening to transform democratic justice from a mere slogan into a concrete political structure. Distributive justice is a necessary condition for prosperity, but without a balance of power and an equal right to be heard it remains insufficient. If republican forces can knit the question of material benefit together with the question of political domination, Iran’s future can truly diverge from its past: a non-dominating republic where the rules of the game emerge from the free bargaining of all the nation’s components, not from bayonets or exclusive rents.