Power is a condition of being. And that old woman of Tehran—who refuses to leave the ‘battlefield empty’—is its most authentic manifestation
‘WHAT are you doing here?’ a local journalist in the streets of Tehran asks an old woman.
The answer—and the exchange that follows—may seem simple, almost intuitive. In reality, it is a near-perfect representation of Iranian society, which, despite internal disagreements—even moments of discord—retains a clear and overriding sense of priorities.
“I have come to defend my leader,” she answers.
Here, the word ‘leader’ does not refer to a single individual, but to a broader, almost civilisational representation of Iran itself.
Whether the ‘leader’ in question is Mahmoud Pezeshkian or the newly installed Ayatollah Mojtaba Khamenei is ultimately irrelevant.
https://www.facebook.com/watch/?v=1658895135246439
Both men are significantly younger than she is. Neither, until recently, even figured in her political imagination.
This alone explains why the US-Israeli doctrine of ‘decapitation’—the assassination of top-tier political and military leadership—has failed in Iran.
The same logic helps explain its failure in Palestine and Lebanon. Resistance cultures in these societies are not centred around individuals, as in hierarchical or rigid political systems. They are rooted in something deeper, more enduring.
The conversation continues.
“How do you help?” the journalist asks.
“I have come not to leave the battlefield empty”.
The answer stands on its own—iconic in its clarity—especially coming from a very old and visibly frail woman, leaning on a cane.
Here, not only age matters, but also gender. US-Israeli propaganda has long framed its violence in Iran—much as Western powers did in Afghanistan—as an effort to ‘liberate’ women.
Yet, among the millions who have filled the squares of Tehran and other Iranian cities since the start of the aggression on February 28, women have been central—visible, present, and leading.
Mainstream media either fails to see this or chooses to marginalise it. But such media narratives are irrelevant to the old woman of Tehran. She operates within a different logic: that of a proud Iranian, compelled to defend her homeland against foreign invaders.
“Does your presence have an impact?” the journalist presses.
The old woman answers without hesitation: “Yes.”
“How?” he asks.
“The enemy is afraid of us,” she replies.
“He is afraid of the people of Iran.”
Once again, she channels the accumulated wisdom of thousands of years of Persian history: civilisations are not built by individuals, but by collectives. And in the end, it will not be armies, presidents, or UN resolutions that determine the outcome of war.
It will be people.
This insight should resonate globally, but especially in Western societies, where many feel powerless, often asking: “What can ordinary people do?”
The old woman of Tehran has no such uncertainty. She does not deliberate. She acts. She takes her place in the trenches of popular resistance.
The journalist insists: “You are weak and have no power. How can the enemy fear you?”
She is not offended. She responds with the same unwavering moral clarity—offering yet another iconic line:
“I have no strength, but I can clench my fists.”
“What are you doing with your fist?” he presses.
“I fight with my fist,” she declares, raising it in the air like a seasoned warrior—as if she has fought this same righteous battle many times before.
In a following moment, a young man—presumably the journalist—is seen speaking to her, smiling, bowing slightly in respect. A member of a younger generation, recognising that the strength of his society originates with figures like her.
At first glance, the video may seem like one of many circulating online—another display of steadfastness, unity, and resolve in Iran, a civilisation far deeper than what figures like Trump and his allies can comprehend, let alone engage with meaningfully.
But it is more than that. It captures the very essence of power—its source, its meaning, its most profound philosophical expression.
Power is not F-35s or bunker busters. These are instruments of destruction—nothing more.
Power is a condition of being.
And that old woman of Tehran—who refuses to leave the ‘battlefield empty’—is its most authentic manifestation.
To her, and to all those who refuse injustice, indignity, and arrogance, we bow—humbly.
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Dr Ramzy Baroud is a journalist, author and the Editor of The Palestine Chronicle. He is the author of six books. His latest book, co-edited with Ilan Pappé, is ‘Our Vision for Liberation: Engaged Palestinian Leaders and Intellectuals Speak Out’. Baroud is a Non-resident Senior Research Fellow at the Centre for Islam and Global Affairs (CIGA). His website is www.ramzybaroud.net
