The Curious Case of Nasim Aghdam

Nasim Aghdam’s strange online presence is a newly surfaced oddity for many, brought to light in the worst possible way. But she had long been a fixture on Iranian social media, on the margins of a growing crowd of influencers including Tehran-based rapper Amir Tataloo, California-based gay porn star Sereen — who posted a now deleted condolence message for Aghdam — and Canada-based Instastar Neda Yasee.

Aghdam, whose stage name was Nasime Sabz or Nasim The Green, satirized common tropes of the Persian language social media world. In one viral video she mocked the idea that being “modern” and “open-minded” meant getting breast implants, lip injections and the latest iPhone.

“Balloon breast girl, balloon breast girl,” she sang, shimmying in a v-neck purple and red dress, only to strip and reveal a pair of fake foam breasts with an English caption: “Don’t trust your eyes.” Aside from preaching about animal cruelty and the healthy perks of veganism, she criticized pop culture, the mandatory wearing of hijab, and the objectification of women’s bodies. Aghdam also claimed in a Telegram post that gun ownership was one of the “four bad things in America” since guns are “free.” Her short, amateurish videos were in some ways similar in quality and content to the satellite TV programming produced by the Iranian diaspora in Southern Californian garages. Those satellite channels were a fixture for kids growing up in Iran during the 1990s, as Aghdam did. 

Though the diaspora satellite TV industry today is booming with over 120 channels — film quality veers from garages with green screens to television studios — there were merely a handful back then. Diaspora satellite programs have become not only a means of entertainment, but a two-way connection for Iranians to the outside world and in some cases — through hotline calls — a homeland the diaspora can no longer return to. Younger Iranians, like Aghdam, have replicated this outreach using social media to disseminate their views.

Yet for some Iranians, Aghdam was a train wreck, and they wanted to see her crash and burn. She was constantly insulted and bullied, and some of her videos were even reported for inappropriate content, including one in which she’s just doing ab exercises in shorts.

Her strange presence on Iranian social media took on a dark new meaning when she was named as a mass shooter. “Am I dreaming right now?,” posted Afshoon, an Iranian satirical Instagram account, alongside a snapshot of a Daily Mail article on the shooting. “She always complained about YouTube, but to do something crazy like this?”

It was never really clear whether Aghdam’s bold and passionate messages were a poor attempt at comedy, but over the years she seemed to slowly be shaped by what was being said about her online persona. In one video, Aghdam declares she is transgender — born a boy, with a gender reassignment operation in America — only moments later to go on a rant about how she’s in fact a woman and not transgender, gay, or bisexual. In a separate video, she answers personal questions viewers asked of her. We learn that Aghdam is from the Iranian city of Urmia in the West Azerbaijan Province, which clarifies why she also speaks Turkish. She says she has never been married nor in love. And Aghdam addresses questions about her state of mind: “I don’t have any special mental or physical illness, but I live on a planet filled with disease, disorders, perversions and injustices.” 

“I was sure that she had a nervous breakdown,” said Sahar Motallebi, a doctor and animal rights activist based in Sweden. “I thought she had a mental problem and with the massive cyberbullying she received, it had gone out of control.”

“My first reaction was more selfish, as I was worried that it will impact the whole nation in line with [President Donald] Trump’s propaganda, calling Iranians ‘terrorists,’” she added.

The worst elements of Western social media were happy to live up to Motallebi worries. Alt-right figure Laura Loomer took a screenshot of a video where Aghdam satirized the wearing of hijab, and posted it as evidence of ISIS sympathies. Trump booster Jacob Wohl posted a shot of her wearing a camouflage leotard with what appears to be a Battleground video game background, taking seriously her claim of serving as an Iranian military commander in the Iran-Iraq War (Aghdam would’ve been nine years old when that war ended in 1988.)

As trolls painted Aghdam as a jihadist, an Iranian commando or a weaponized feminist, the people who were long familiar with her strange online routine wondered whether her experience on the social web caused lasting damage to her wellbeing. “This tragic event... may well be an excuse to think more about bullying, violence, harassment and humiliation in the Persian [language] cyberspace,” wrote Iranian-Canadian blogger Nazli Kamvari in an op-ed for Radio Zamaneh. “Think about the long-term effects of verbal abuse in cyberspace. Think of fighting cyberbullying in cyberspace. To respect one’s emotional and cognitive relationship and not to despise another because of what we do not understand.”

Aghdam was likely no stranger to mistreatment: the National Baha’i Office in Washington confirmed Aghdam was a registered Baha’i, which means she likely left Iran in 1996 because of religious persecution. 

“If we were kinder, she probably would have not lost it like this,” Motallebi told me. “She needed help and we missed it.”

Holly Dagres is an Iranian-American analyst on Middle East affairs with a focus on Iran. She is also the curator of the weekly newsletter, The Iranist. On Twitter: @hdagres