Masih Alinejad, like Salman Rushdie before her, is a stark reminder of how far authoritarian regimes will go to silence dissent. Both have lived under the threat of assassination for expressing ideas that challenge theocratic power. While Rushdie faced a fatwa over fiction, Alinejad has become a target for simply broadcasting the lived reality of Iranian women under a regime that fears hair more than missiles. An Iranian-American journalist and activist, Alinejad has used her platform to expose the human rights abuses of the Islamic Republic of Iran, focusing particularly on the regime’s forced hijab laws and treatment of women.
From village girl to enemy of the state
Born in 1976 in a small village in Iran’s Mazandaran province, Alinejad grew up in a conservative household where veiling was non-negotiable, even inside the home. Her early rebellion came in the form of political pamphlets and underground activism. Arrested as a teenager for criticizing the regime, she transitioned from dissident to journalist, eventually covering the Iranian parliament. Her coverage was bold and often embarrassing for officials. In 2005, she was expelled from parliament after revealing that MPs were quietly awarding themselves generous bonuses. Her commitment to transparency and fearlessness in confronting the powerful marked her as a threat from the start.
Exile and louder defiance
After the 2009 Green Movement protests and subsequent crackdown, Alinejad fled Iran, ultimately settling in the US. There, exile became her amplifier. She started “My Stealthy Freedom,” a social media campaign where Iranian women posted pictures of themselves without hijabs, defying compulsory veiling laws. The campaign exploded into a movement, infuriating the Islamic Republic and galvanizing women inside Iran. Alinejad followed it up with “White Wednesdays,” another civil disobedience effort encouraging women to wear white headscarves or none at all on Wednesdays to protest Iran’s hijab laws.
She became a regular commentator in Western media, wrote for leading newspapers, and hosted a satirical show on Voice of America called Tablet. The regime couldn’t ignore her anymore. But since they couldn’t silence her ideas, they decided instead to try and silence her permanently.
Iran’s murderous obsession
Masih Alinejad greets friends and supporters outside the federal courthouse after testifying at the trial of her would-be assassins in New York, Tuesday, March 18, 2025. (AP Photo/Seth Wenig)
In 2021, a kidnapping plot against Alinejad was foiled by the FBI. Iranian agents had been surveilling her Brooklyn home, trying to lure her to a third country where she could be abducted and returned to Iran. When that failed, they escalated.
In 2022, the plot turned from kidnapping to outright assassination. This time, it was more brazen. The Department of Justice revealed that two high-ranking members of the Eastern European Bazghandi Network—Rafat Amirov and Polad Omarov—were working directly with the Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps (IRGC), Iran’s paramilitary wing and international terror export agency. They were offered $500,000 to kill Alinejad.
The operation had all the makings of a spy thriller gone grotesquely real. Omarov passed intelligence from the IRGC to a foot soldier, Khalid Mehdiyev, who was tasked with carrying out the hit. Mehdiyev stalked Alinejad’s home, conducted surveillance, and was eventually caught by police with an AK-47-style rifle, 66 rounds of ammo, a ski mask, and $1,100 in cash.
Mehdiyev didn’t even deny it. He testified he was there “to kill the journalist.” Alinejad testified too, recalling how she saw a large man standing in her garden, staring at her through the sunflowers.
The verdict and beyond
A federal jury recently convicted Amirov and Omarov in connection with the assassination plot. The Justice Department made clear this wasn’t just about one journalist. It was about a foreign regime trying to carry out a hit job on US soil. Officials called it a “brazen plot” and a clear message that the Iranian regime is willing to bring its campaign of terror to America.
Alinejad, while relieved by the verdict, was unsparing in her response. She thanked the jury but said the “real masterminds” remain untouched in Iran. She named Supreme Leader Ali Khamenei and the Revolutionary Guards, and said she would not rest until they were held accountable.
Other co-conspirators were also named, including Ruhollah Bazghandi—the namesake of the criminal network—and several Iranian nationals, some still at large. Prosecutors say that after the plot was exposed, the Bazghandi Network continued monitoring cases and planned additional actions against Alinejad.
Freedom, democracy, and AK-47s
This is not a personal vendetta anymore; it’s a geopolitical litmus test. As Alinejad herself put it: “The Iranian regime doesn’t just hate me; they hate the very principles that define America—freedom, democracy, and free speech.” That they were willing to send a hitman with a Kalashnikov to a Brooklyn suburb is not just about eliminating a critic. It’s about sending a message: not even exile makes you safe.
In one of her public posts, Alinejad directly addressed Donald Trump, who had reissued his “maximum pressure” campaign against Iran. She urged action, not just words: “Will you take action before it’s too late?”
Her message is clear. The threats may be personal, but the stakes are collective. When the regime that jails teenage girls for dancing, poisons schoolgirls for protesting, and assassinates journalists abroad tries to expand its reach into American neighborhoods, it’s no longer just Iran’s problem.
