Six months ago, on such a night, Tehran fell into darkness. All of Iran fell into darkness. But even that darkness could not keep millions of Iranians in their homes.

The 18th and 19th of Dey were not just two nights of protest. They were nights when Iran’s silence was broken. Millions poured into the streets, filled the squares, and stood atop the rooftops of their homes, but the regime answered them with bullets. In those forty-eight hours, tens of thousands of my fellow citizens lost their lives. Since that day, tens of thousands more have been detained, tortured, or sentenced to death.

They were determined and came into the streets with courage. I think of them every day. In those two nights, I lost fellow countrymen whom I will never have the chance to see again. For me, the number 40,000 is never just a statistic. Every time I hear it, I see a boy who will never return to his mother’s embrace. I see a girl whose place will always remain empty at her family’s table. I consider each of them as my own child, brother, or sister, and I feel the weight of the name of each and every one of them on my shoulders. But each week, when I meet the families of those who were killed, my determination to continue this path becomes even stronger. Their children did not give their lives in vain. They gave their lives for freedom, and they did so with pride.

The history of the sacrifice of these women and men will not be forgotten, and I will not allow the name and path of theirs to be forgotten either. Just as resistance fighters in occupied Europe stood against tyranny, and just as America’s revolutionaries fought for freedom, Iran’s children also stood firm. But their courage had something else about it. They had no army, no air support, and no backing of any kind except a belief in the ideal for which they had risen. And yet, they stood. A united nation decided to stand side by side against the bullets, rather than even one more day live in fear. The men and women of the 18th and 19th of Dey will remain, in Iran’s history, as an immortal generation that preferred death of freedom and honor over life in chains and kneeling.

I tell only this to the international community: do not let what is decided in negotiation rooms in Geneva or Islamabad cause the truth of what happened on the streets of Tehran, Mashhad, and Kermanshah to be forgotten. They gave their lives for freedom, and with the freedom of Iran, the Strait of Hormuz will be opened, the nuclear threat will end, and we will reach real peace.

I have told my fellow citizens that what you began on the 18th and 19th of Dey is an irreversible path. Together, we will reclaim our country’s rightful place in the world, restore our national dignity, and keep the memory of our heroes alive by building a free Iran. Now is the time to pause, gather strength again, and once more dedicate ourselves to victory.

We honor the memory of the fallen by bringing to an end the path they began. Free Iran is no longer a hope. It is a certainty.

And the world must know that my brave compatriots are not fighting only for their own freedom; they are also fighting for peace and stability in the world.