The Azizam/Ahmagh Paradox

A viral hit shows how Iranians share and subvert, both at home and abroad

Instead of joining the endless cavalcade of speculation on the US and ‘IRI’ deliberations in Rome and Oman – which can only be properly analyzed when they have a result – today we speak of the world of pop culture.

On April 4^th, English recording artist Ed Sheeran released a new single, ‘Azizam,’ which quickly rose to a top five position on the UK charts and similar acclaim worldwide. While the song’s danceable beat, hook, and catchy chorus will come as no surprise to the singer’s fans, the tune broke new ground for Sheeran in its use of Iranian and Middle-Eastern musical elements, not least with the much-repeated title, meaning ‘My Dear’ in Persian. As readers may suspect, the song is the product of a collaboration with an Iranian artist, in this case producer and songwriter Ilya Salmanzadeh. ‘Azizam’ is certainly a product of the ‘TikTok’ era, jumping straight into the chorus at the speed of a smartphone swipe, hooking listeners for that coveted first 15-30 seconds and perhaps more if they care to stay for the verses. But even if it may not be the most substantial musical fare, the song was quickly embraced by Iranians in and outside the country.

The diaspora’s reaction was warm and appreciative, from ordinary fans and social media influencers sharing the track far and wide to celebrity singers like Andy and Googoosh appearing in its music video. The latter pop legend even lent her voice to the song’s Persian-language edition. This is far from the first time Western artists have notably collaborated with their Iranian counterparts. One example occurred in 2009, when Jon Bon Jovi joined Andy in a duet of ‘Stand By Me,’ singing the first verse in Persian, to support the ‘Green Revolution’ protests against that year’s likely fraudulent Islamic Republic election result. More recently in 2022, Iranian actress Golshifteh Farahani joined Coldplay vocalist Chris Martin onstage in Buenos Aires to sing ‘Baraye,’ the viral anthem of the ‘Woman, Life, Freedom’ movement. While these projects clearly had a more political bent, ‘Azizam’ eschews any overt message in favor of a cheerful, optimistic cultural fusion that recalls the eclectic pop trends of the early 2010s. All of that was true, at least, until some Iranians put their own irreverent spin on things.

Within days of the Sheeran single’s release, a new remix of ‘Azizam’ appeared on social media with a very different vocal track. This was taken not from any music, but from dialogue in an Iran-made TV soap opera, spoken by the actor Reza Golzar. Golzar’s lines are lifted from a scene of intense argument, but he delivers them in a way that apparently polarizes viewers on his acting ability. To some the feeling in his voice is awkward, strained, and entirely unconvincing. The best comparison North American readers might be familiar with is the raw but hopelessly clumsy portrayal of emotion and dialogue by the infamous Tommy Wiseau in his unintentional masterpiece of bad film-making, The Room (2003).

Quality of acting aside, whoever remixed the two properties noticed that the rhythm of Golzar’s lines mapped seamlessly onto the Ed Sheeran song’s playful 6/8 beat. The result is an absurd perfection that spread like wildfire across Iranian social media, where users began posting hundreds of lip-synching tributes and other variations, and later compilations of these videos. Instead of the song opening with the word ‘Azizam’ (‘my dear’), the same musical intro builds to the incongruous Golzar’s yell of ‘Ahmagh!’ (‘Stupid idiot!’), followed by several more of his nasal-voiced, ham-fisted lines over the dance groove.

The strange juxtaposition of these elements has a comic effect that few who’ve heard the song can resist. But aside from providing Iranians and their friends with a much-needed laugh, the Azizam/Ahmagh phenomenon provides an elegant metaphor for Iranian mass culture in 2025. Artistic collaborations like that of Sheeran and Salmanzadeh are becoming increasingly common, as Iranians consciously step out of the decades-long shadow cast by their pseudo-religious dictatorship. ‘Azizam’ points to a growing confidence in asserting an Iranian identity opposed to the bearded, fanatical ‘Islamic Republic’ image so common in Western media since 1979, and signals a broad-based rejection of the Khomeinist hijacking of an ancient civilization. The use of pop music is significant, given the conspicuous recent attempts by the IR police state to make an example of young women for posting videos of themselves dancing to songs like Pharrell Williams’ ‘Happy’ and Nigerian rapper Rema’s ‘Calm Down.’ The imprisonments and other outrageous punishments imposed on girls for this has had the opposite outcome, spurring Iranian youth to embrace music and dance as a potent form of rebellion.

Even more effective against humorless theocrats is the power of ridicule. The use of a sample from the Islamic Republic’s own sub-par, heavily-censored media is telling in itself. It deftly exposes an industry riddled with corruption, favoritism and propaganda, skewering an entire dictatorship’s efforts at soft power and manipulation in a way authority can never understand. The actor’s ringing cry of ‘Ahmagh!’ could have come from the lips of practically every Iranian who wants a normal life free of the IR cult. And indeed it seems to, in the scores of videos where people from all backgrounds mouth the repurposed ‘lyrics,’ grooving mischievously.

While the dwindling supporters of Khomeinist terror make a habit of missing the obvious, they might want to pay attention here. Fake-Islamic ideologues wouldn’t know a good joke if it snuck up behind them and doffed their Emameh turban, but this sort of viral culture sharing between Iranians is much more than just memes and humor. It signals a connection far stronger than even the heady days of 2022 when young people’s protests electrified the world – and the dictatorship’s crimes against humanity in response showed there will be no piecemeal reform of their project, only collapse and real justice. Iranians have spent the past three years gaining knowledge and experience, shedding self-doubt and fear, and girding themselves for the next wave of mass discontent. When that inevitable swell crashes again, it may well be enough to finally sweep away five decades of pain and tyranny. If any Middle Eastern people is strong enough to lead a new birth of freedom, for their region and all Eurasia, it is this one.