Four-minute read
When Le Canard Enchaîné smeared the Iranian Resistance with the absurd claim of “forced financial participation,” it triggered more than a backlash. It awakened memories. It stirred lives. And in the case of Behzad Matin, it ignited a voice that cannot be ignored.
Behzad Matin is no politician. He is no spokesperson. He is one of countless unnamed souls whose hands have helped hold the line against dictatorship for decades. In his own words, he is a “militant,” and with that word, he does not mean a career, but a commitment.
“45 years ago, love for the PMOI compelled me to dedicate my life and everything I had to their cause… For 35 years, I’ve been part of this so-called ‘forced financial donation.'”
In 1989, Matin arrived in Canada with nothing but his young family and his belief. No money, no privilege. Just conviction. He worked from 5 a.m. to 11 p.m., seven days a week, in the bitter cold and burning summers, building from scratch so he could give—not because he had to, but because he couldn’t imagine not doing it.
“From helping with a few dollars in those early days, to one day being able to make million-dollar contributions—one thing has never changed: I have always felt indebted to the Mojahedin.”
The Regime’s Pen: How #Iran’s Clerical Dictatorship Uses Friendly #Journalists as Propaganda Assetshttps://t.co/TH8BUosNpJ
— NCRI-FAC (@iran_policy) March 25, 2025
Can one force a man to feel indebted? Can one compel such endurance over decades? What the propagandists at Le Canard fail to understand—or more likely, choose to ignore—is that belief is not built on obligation. It is forged in fire.
“I never once asked what my contributions were used for. When a brother or sister, members of the PMOI, refer to one another this way, tried to explain, I turned away. It’s not that I help the Resistance. It’s the Resistance that helps me reclaim my humanity.”
Behzad Matin isn’t alone. He speaks for thousands across continents who have given all they could, not out of coercion, but out of clarity. In recent years, he and his wife have donated millions of dollars during the Simaye Azadi (INTV) telethons—a lifeline of independent Iranian broadcasting run entirely by the Resistance. They have witnessed the Resistance under siege in Ashraf, in Albanian exile, in prisons, and in courtrooms. They have seen what real sacrifice looks like. And they have chosen it, freely.
Global Figures Rally Behind @Maryam_Rajavi, Condemn #Iranian Regime’s Hostage Diplomacyhttps://t.co/c7H8DZLcpw
— NCRI-FAC (@iran_policy) March 30, 2025
“Let the ducks, crows, owls, and all the pests know: not once have I doubted where my help goes. These lies don’t shake me—they strengthen me.”
That is the voice Le Canard or any other “friendly journalist” cannot cancel. That is the defiance no headline can suppress. And that is the reason the regime and its apologists will never succeed in breaking the spine of this movement.
“The PMOI is the pride of Iranian history. Until the day this tyrannical regime is overthrown and a free Iran is built, I will remain, to my last breath, a soldier of this cause.”
This is not the story of a donor. It is the anthem of a generation.
For years, @IBetancourtCol has shared how she saw through the Iranian regime's disinformation and came to trust #Iran's Resistance. Her interview with @en_simayazadi was particularly revealing, offering deep insights into this critical battle for truth.https://t.co/pVu3w47YHJ
— NCRI-FAC (@iran_policy) March 28, 2025
So to those who lie, who twist, who mock—know this: history will remember not your ink, but your intent. It has little room for the journalists who rationalized fascism into fashion, who sanitized brutality into diplomacy. It does not celebrate the apologists who explained the Nazis into stardom—but it surely honors the partisans and patriots who resisted them.
And it will remember men like Behzad Matin, not because they shouted the loudest, but because they never stopped walking.
Translation of Behzad Matin’s Letter (Published April 1, 2025)
Source: Hambastegi Melli website
Behzad Matin: Memoirs of a “Forced Donor”!
April 1, 2025
“How can the barking of a dog pollute the sea? How can the spitting of a fool dim the sun?”
When I heard that Le Canard Enchaîné, a French magazine, had published a despicable article attacking the leadership of the Iranian Resistance, I was overcome with fury. The slander and sheer vulgarity hurt me so deeply that I could barely compose myself for days. I kept asking myself: why is it that all the attacks, all the demonization, all the lies, are aimed at Mrs. Maryam?
The answer came from within: because she embodies purity and dignity. Because her presence is the gravest threat to the regime. Because her vision, her leadership, and her humanity not only lead a Resistance, but have won the respect of politicians far beyond their partisan or national interests. That is what has terrified the regime into unleashing its entire propaganda machine against her.
But I’m not writing this to defend Maryam Rajavi. She needs no defense from me or people like me. As Rumi said: “How can the barking of a dog pollute the sea? How can the spitting of a fool dim the sun?”
Even a French commentator, Madame Attias, put it beautifully with a French proverb: “The spit of a frog cannot reach the dove.”
I picked up the pen not to defend her, but to speak as one of the Resistance “militants” who, according to Le Canard, have been “forced” to financially support the Mojahedin. And if I may be honored, I speak for all of us “forced participants.”
In one sense, Le Canard is right. For 45 years, love for the Mojahedin has forced me to devote my life and all I have to their cause. And for 35 of those years, I have been trapped in this “forced participation” of financial support.
When I arrived in Canada 35 years ago with my wife and young child, I didn’t have a penny to my name. My only capital was a deep belief in the Mojahedin. That love became my engine, just as Rumi said:
“He who knows You, what need has he of soul or kin? What need of child or home, when he has You within? You could drive him mad, then give him the world, And he’d throw it all back—for Your love has unfurled.”
I worked day and night—from 5 a.m. to 11 p.m., seven days a week, in summer and winter. Some days, when I left, my children were still asleep. When I returned, they were asleep again. Bit by bit, I gathered enough capital to work and contribute a small amount to the Resistance.
At times, I worked ten roles at once—engineer, foreman, site manager, accountant, designer—all to reduce costs and increase income so I could lift a bit of the burden from the organization. From a few-dollar donation 35 years ago, to multi-million dollar contributions today, one thing has never changed: I have always felt indebted to the Mojahedin.
Compared to the vast work they do standing against this medieval and brutal regime, my contributions are nothing. I only wish I could give the whole world to Maryam Rajavi and her fellow freedom fighters.
This vile “owl” thinks such nonsense will undermine our determination to support the Mojahedin. Fools don’t realize that people like me have tested the Mojahedin—from Ashraf in Iraq to Ashraf in Albania, and in other countries. We have seen them in prisons, under torture, in their daily lives, and in the glittering material world of the West. Their ideological, political, and ethical understanding—rooted in the selfless leadership of Maryam and her revolution—is far beyond the mental grasp of such creatures.
And for the record, let the ducks, crows, owls, and all the pests know: never, not once, have I asked what my financial support was used for. When a Mojahedin brother or sister tried to explain, I turned away.
No, it is not I who helps the Mojahedin. It is they who help me reclaim my humanity. They help me hold my head high in front of my conscience, my people, and my homeland.
This isn’t just my story—it is the story of everyone who has taken part in this so-called “forced participation.” Let history bear witness.
Let the political parasites and hired pens know: the Mojahedin are the pride of Iran’s history. And until the day this monstrous, blood-soaked regime is brought down and replaced with a free and prosperous Iran, I will remain—within the limits of my strength and understanding—a soldier of this cause to my final breath.
These lies, these slanders, they do not weaken us. They deepen our resolve.
Down with the palace of theocrats.
Behzad Matin