As the United States and Iran cautiously return to the negotiating table, a familiar question resurfaces: can we pursue diplomacy with a repressive government like the Islamic Republic without betraying human rights principles?
For some, the answer is an unequivocal no.
They argue that engaging with Iran’s theocratic leaders lends them legitimacy and that human rights should be a prerequisite for any agreement. This framing is seductive in its moral clarity, but in practice, it has served as a blueprint for perpetual conflict and a gift to the most authoritarian forces in Iran.
The truth is, how we integrate human rights into diplomacy matters deeply. When they are used constructively, they can guide policy toward meaningful outcomes. But when invoked in ways that derail negotiations, prolong broad-based sanctions, or edge us closer to war, they cease to be a tool for protection and become a tool for obstruction. In the end, it’s the Iranian people — especially the most vulnerable — who bear the cost.
There are, of course, influential and well-funded factions in the U.S., Israel, and Iran that thrive on enmity and escalation. On one end, neoconservatives and pro-Israel hawks in Washington view Iran as a permanent adversary, to be crushed or contained indefinitely. On the other, hardliners in Tehran exploit American hostility to justify repression and militarization. Both camps treat diplomacy as a threat to their ideologies.
Unfortunately, some human rights advocates — particularly in the Iranian diaspora — have adopted a similar stance, insisting that engagement only empowers the Iranian government. But this argument rests on a false premise: that diplomacy and human rights are inherently at odds.
Iranian civil society tells a different story. In fact, many of its most courageous voices — those operating inside the country, often at great personal risk — are not calling for confrontation. They are calling for de-escalation and peace.
Nobel Peace Prize laureate and renowned political prisoner Narges Mohammadi has echoed this stance. In a recent interview, reflecting on the choice between war and negotiations, she declared: “I am fundamentally opposed to war. I do not support an option like war under any circumstances, at any time, in any land, for any country, or any people.” Instead, she emphasized that “given the state of the Islamic Republic and the level of protests, resistance, and perseverance among the people, we will, in fact, achieve gains for the people,” in the short, medium, and long term.
Her interview went far beyond a critique of war. Mohammadi also delivered a forceful condemnation of the Islamic Republic, argued that political change in Iran is inevitable, and stressed that the fractured opposition must commit to democratic values and mutual tolerance. On sanctions, she warned: “People have experienced heavy sanctions. They’ve lost many opportunities. … These sanctions have not only weakened the government — they’ve also weakened Iranian society, the middle class, and everyday people.”
Meanwhile, in a powerful recent letter, more than 400 Iranian academics, journalists, dissidents, and former political prisoners warned that any military strike by the U.S. or Israel would not merely target Iran’s rulers but would also devastate the Iranian people. Among thesigners are some of the country’s leading voices of conscience: Emadeddin Baghi, a leading human rights advocate and political prisoner; Isa Saharkhiz, a veteran dissident journalist; and Shahindokht Molaverdi, a former vice president for women’s affairs turned critic of the country’s status quo.
“An attack on Iran’s infrastructure is not merely an attack on the government,” they wrote. “It is an attack on the Iranian nation.” Addressed to the U.N. Secretary-General, their statement urges the international community to reject war.
Other prominent voices have echoed the same message. The Coordination for a Secular Democratic Republic in Iran — a broad opposition coalition advocating for a democratic future — recently issued a statement rejecting “any kind of military option against Iran’s infrastructure.” They called for “transparent, fair, win-win negotiations” that address Western concerns while respecting Iran’s national interests. They also pointed to the various actors who benefit from sustained tensions: Israel through sabotage campaigns, American war hawks, and the Islamic Republic’s own ideologues.
These perspectives have deep roots inside Iran. For example, when Iran and Israel exchanged strikes last October, there was a groundswell of antiwar activism across Iranian civil society. Four of Iran’s most prominent independent labor unions — the Free Union of Iranian Workers, the Coordinating Council of Iranian Teachers’ Trade Associations, the Group of United Retirees, and the Council of Retirees — warned that escalating conflict would turn the country into “scorched earth.”
These unions, long-time critics of government repression, made clear that war would only deepen poverty and hardship for ordinary Iranians. They warned that conflict would be used as a pretext to suppress workers, women, students, and the poor.
Another statement signed by over 350 civil society activists at the time rejected war “in the guise of opposition” and denounced both state repression and the provocations of foreign actors. They insisted that democracy and peace are intertwined, and that bombs and blockades will not bring justice.
These are not fringe voices. They reflect a core truth: those who suffer most in war are the people already struggling to survive. The same is true under sanctions, which have devastated Iran’s economy, restricted access to essential goods like medicine, and hollowed out the middle class. Indeed, to speak of human rights without acknowledging the economic violence of sanctions is to tell only half the story.
This is the broader reality U.S. policymakers must take seriously. The failure of diplomacy does not simply close the door to peaceful de-escalation; it shifts the balance of power toward those most invested in confrontation. In the United States and Israel, it empowers hawkish voices who advocate for regime change through military force, regardless of the human cost. Inside Iran, it strengthens the narrative of siege and existential threat, providing the country’s most authoritarian factions with justification to escalate surveillance, censorship, and repression in the name of national security.
This doesn’t mean human rights should be sidelined. Quite the opposite — diplomacy, when done right, creates space for engagement on human rights. During the brief implementation of the 2015 nuclear deal, key economic indicators improved significantly: inflation fell, real incomes rose, and the country’s “misery index” dropped. Civil society gained breathing room. European governments engaged Iran on political prisoners and executions. Some joint ventures were even conditioned on labor and gender standards. Constructive engagement offered real leverage.
All of that progress was reversed in 2018 when the Trump administration withdrew from the deal and reimposed crushing sanctions. Poverty soared. Repression intensified. And Iran’s most hardline elements — those most opposed to engagement — consolidated power.
To suggest that sanctions and isolation help the Iranian people is not only empirically false — it is morally indefensible.
Let’s be clear: a nuclear deal will not bring political transformation to Iran. Nor should we expect it to. But it can create the conditions — economic stability, reduced isolation, and greater civic space — that make long-term change more possible. Conversely, collapsing diplomacy risks deepening the humanitarian crisis and pushing the region toward war.
Human rights must guide U.S. policy. But they should not be misused as a pretext to sabotage diplomacy. The voices calling for peace from inside Iran are not naïve. They have endured war, repression, and isolation. We would do well to listen to them.
