Anger at U.S. strikes runs deep in a region long hostile to Iran’s clerics, yet no new protest wave has emerged
Opposition to Iran’s clerical government has simmered for years in the country’s poorer southern provinces. But after weeks of concentrated U.S. strikes on the region, many residents say their anger now points at President Donald Trump and the air campaign that has torn through their daily lives.
Southern Iran sits along the Strait of Hormuz and has absorbed some of the heaviest American attacks on ports, energy sites and transport links. Washington says the strikes target Iran’s ability to threaten shipping through the strait. Tehran says the campaign has struck far beyond anything with a legitimate military purpose.
Reuters interviewed more than two dozen residents across the south by phone and messaging apps. Most agreed the strikes had gone past targets with any clear military value.
“Trump has ruined our lives more than the Islamic rulers did,” said Amin, who runs a small boarding house for tourists in the south. He blamed the U.S. campaign for deepening economic hardship that predates the war.
No new wave of unrest in the south

None of the residents Reuters spoke with, despite describing themselves as opponents of the ruling system and some having taken part in earlier protests, said the war had built support for renewed demonstrations against the government.
“I feel like I’m suffocating,” Amin said, describing the toll of the strikes. That kind of exhaustion helps explain why provinces with a history of anti-government protest have stayed quiet through the war, a quiet that runs counter to what Trump appeared to expect when the conflict began. Like the other Iranians interviewed, Amin asked that his family name be withheld out of fear of retaliation.
Not every resident has turned against the fight entirely. Reza, 62, fought in the 1988-89 Iran-Iraq war and has little patience left for Iran’s theocratic system; his son was detained during mass protests in January. Even so, the retired teacher said he would take up arms again if his country needed him.
“If my country needs me I’ll take up arms again, not for this regime but for the soil beneath my feet. It’s the least I owe it,” he said from his home in Abadan, in the southwestern province of Khuzestan.
Few people Reuters spoke with expressed support for Iran’s rulers either, a gap that could pose problems for Tehran down the line. The clerical leadership worries that prolonged economic pain could turn its own base, largely middle- and low-income Iranians, against it, particularly if a peace deal continues to slip out of reach.
A region built from several ethnic minorities

Southern Iran’s four provinces, Hormozgan, Bushehr, Khuzestan and Sistan-Baluchistan, span a humid, rugged coastline stretching from Iraq to Pakistan. Khuzestan holds a large Arab minority. Sistan-Baluchistan is home to Iran’s Baluchi minority. Hormozgan has a substantial Sunni Muslim population in a country governed by a Shi’ite Muslim, Persian-majority establishment. All three groups have long described facing discrimination under the Islamic Republic.
Iran’s minority communities extend beyond the south to Kurds in the west, Azeris in the northwest and Turkmen in the northeast, groups that have opposed the ruling clerics for decades over issues including the right to teach and use native languages in schools and courts, along with government policies residents say have damaged local environments and health care.
The south holds most of Iran’s oil and gas reserves, yet residents describe low investment and limited opportunity, plus state services thin enough that power grids buckle under summer heat.
“The U.S. attacks have deepened our problems. No electricity for hours means no water for hours in this heat,” said Hadi, a grocery shop owner in Khuzestan province.
“I love Iran, not the Islamic Republic and those that are calling for continuation of the war, while sitting in their air-conditioned homes and offices. This war should stop. Enough is enough,” he added.
Iranian authorities deny any pattern of regional, ethnic or religious discrimination. Still, southern towns were flashpoints of opposition during the January unrest and in earlier rounds of protest in 2022 and 2019.
Nightly explosions, daytime heat

Majid, a 41-year-old engineer in Konarak, said the war has layered new fear onto a town already worn down by years of neglect. Nights bring the sound of explosions. Days bring heat, extended blackouts and worry over water pipes running dry.
Power cuts have hit hardest in provinces where summer temperatures routinely pass 40 degrees Celsius, or 104 Fahrenheit, cutting off air conditioning and disrupting water systems that rely on electric pumps to function.
In Bushehr, home to Iran’s only working nuclear power plant, high school student Samad said the nightly attacks have made it impossible to concentrate on his exams. “I wanted freedom, but look what Trump brought for us,” he said.



























