Introduction: When Money Devoured Power
In our time, the relationship between freedom and power has become more complex than ever before. What was once seen as a path to personal liberation and social progress — economic growth, private ownership, and the accumulation of wealth — has, in many societies, turned into a mechanism of exclusion, discrimination, and control. The phrase “freedom in an age of oligarchy” describes precisely this historical paradox: we live in societies where markets appear free, elections are held, and the discourse of liberty is repeated everywhere — yet the concentration of wealth and power in the hands of a small minority has effectively deprived the majority of real agency and autonomy.
European history shows that the expansion of commerce and industry in the modern era laid the groundwork for individual freedoms and civic institutions. The commercialization of agriculture and the rise of industrial capitalism led to the collapse of the feudal order and the emergence of a class that demanded rights and liberty. But in the twenty-first century, we are witnessing the reversal of this very process: mechanisms that once liberated humankind have now become instruments of oligarchic domination.
This essay seeks to examine the concept of freedom in an age of oligarchy from both historical and theoretical perspectives — from the limitations of institutional reform to the distinction between negative and positive liberty, and from the possibilities of individual resistance to the capacities for collective emancipation. Its aim is not to offer a simple formula for freedom, but rather to reveal how freedom can persist under conditions in which formal institutions, markets, and states are all caught within the grip of oligarchic power.
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The Deadlock of Formal Institutions: Why Reform Is Not Enough
In societies that have reached the stage of economic and political oligarchy, reforming formal institutions rarely leads to real change. The failure lies not in weak laws, but in the structure of power itself — a structure that turns law into an instrument for maintaining the status quo. On the surface, political and economic reformism appears to signal vitality and adaptability, yet in practice, such reforms often reproduce the very relations of power they were meant to transform.
In many Middle Eastern countries, including Iran, reformism has been attempted in various forms — from state-led modernization programs to economic privatization and promises of transparency and social justice. Yet in all these cases, formal institutions have proven to be obstacles rather than agents of change. Every attempt at systemic reform quickly becomes entangled in networks of institutional interests, corrupt bureaucracy, and entrenched dependencies. Under such conditions, the political system sustains itself not through transformation, but through the continual redefinition of its own language and policies.
1.1. Reform within Closed Structures
Reform has meaning only when institutions are accountable — that is, when they respond to social pressure and public demand. In closed systems, however, institutions do not represent society; they function as extensions of concentrated power. As a result, internal reforms amount to little more than reshuffling managerial faces or changing official terminology.
For example, in Iran in recent decades, the concept of “privatization” was presented as a step toward efficiency and reduced government intervention. In practice, however, public assets were transferred to quasi-state enterprises and organizations linked to political–military elites. Thus, economic reform became a means of further concentrating power.
This phenomenon is not unique to Iran. In post-Soviet Russia, the slogan of “market reform” led not to free competition but to the emergence of a class of billionaires closely tied to political power — the very oligarchs who would later consolidate their influence alongside the Kremlin. In both cases, the issue lay not in the content of reform itself, but in the ownership of the mechanisms of reform by those already in power.
1.2. The Reproduction of Oligarchy under the Guise of Modernization
One of the defining features of modern oligarchy is its ability to change appearance without altering essence. In other words, corrupt institutions can reproduce themselves through new language, new technologies, and even populist slogans. In recent decades, many oil-rich or authoritarian states have employed the rhetoric of modernization, sustainable development, entrepreneurship, or social justice to project a modern image — while the underlying structure of power and wealth distribution has remained almost unchanged.
In such an environment, institutional reform turns into a political spectacle. The government, parliament, oversight bodies, and official media all appear to perform their duties, but in reality, they serve primarily to legitimize the existing order. Meanwhile, citizens become trapped in a cycle of hope and despair: each new reform promises liberation, and each failure normalizes impotence.
1.3. Institutions Without Society
From the perspective of political sociology, an institution acquires meaning only when it mediates between society and power. Yet in oligarchic structures, institutions become detached from society and fused with power itself. As a result, people do not regard these institutions as their own; they feel neither ownership over them nor trust in them.
When a parliament, a media outlet, a court, or a central bank loses its independence, it ceases to function as an institution in the true sense — becoming instead a component of the machinery of domination. In such a situation, even reformers within the system face severe limitations, for any genuine change would require dismantling the very relations upon which the institution itself is built.
1.4. The Cycle of Reform and Counter-Reform
Historical experience shows that in oligarchic systems, genuine reforms are usually met with intense resistance at first; and even when partially realized, they are swiftly neutralized by forces within the system itself.
For example, the political reforms of Iran in the late 1990s or the modernization efforts during the reign of Mohammad Reza Shah both ultimately collided with the resistance of traditional or security institutions. The power structure in such societies is so configured that any genuine opening is perceived as a threat to its survival.
Consequently, society enters a repetitive cycle of reform and counter-reform — a condition in which no lasting transformation occurs, but only the faces and slogans change.
1.5. Conclusion of Part One: The Need to Exit the Official Orbit
The core problem, therefore, does not lie in the inefficiency of policymakers but in the very nature of formal institutions themselves. Since these institutions are founded on loyalty to power, they lack the capacity to generate freedom or justice. Within such a framework, intra-systemic reform leads not to transformation but to a sophisticated stabilization of oligarchy.
Hence, any real path toward freedom must move beyond the official orbit of power — beginning instead in domains not yet under the oligarchy’s direct control: spheres such as civil society, cultural networks, education, and, ultimately, public consciousness.
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Negative Freedom in Confronting Oligarchy: Personal and Limited Paths
In oligarchic systems, where political and economic power is concentrated in the hands of a few, the concept of “freedom” inevitably retreats to the personal and defensive level. Within such an order, the citizen becomes reactive rather than active; he experiences freedom not in the positive sense of “the power to act” but in the negative sense of “escape from domination.”
Negative freedom, in this sense, represents an attempt to maintain distance from the system of power. Yet this distance, contrary to expectation, is not easily sustained; for in a society where economic, media, and even cultural structures are monopolized by the oligarchy, every individual behavior becomes subject to control, absorption, or neutralization.
2.1. New Forms of Dependency
In the modern era, domination is rarely exercised openly. No one is imprisoned for “disobedience” anymore; rather, they are excluded from economic and social pathways.
The oligarchic system, relying on economic and informational dependency, renders negative freedom practically ineffective. For instance, someone who seeks to distance themselves from the dominant financial order quickly discovers that access to the most basic necessities of life — from insurance and education to housing and employment — is almost impossible without participating in official mechanisms.
This condition can be described as a form of soft slavery: a mode of control exercised not through direct coercion, but through need and dependency.
In contemporary Russia, Turkey, or Iran, many economic or cultural actors who sought independence from official institutions eventually became either marginalized or absorbed into the formal structure. In effect, power in an age of oligarchy is such a pervasive network that even one’s attempt to exit it becomes part of its very mechanism.
2.2. Freedom as Isolation
As a result, some citizens seek freedom in isolation, migration, or deliberate silence. This form of freedom, though meaningful on psychological or moral grounds, has little social impact.
The emigration of elites, the withdrawal of intellectuals from the public sphere, and the widespread distrust of politics are all manifestations of negative freedom in an age of oligarchy. Society, rather than pursuing collective resistance, drifts toward defensive individualism: each person strives merely to save themselves.
Yet this individual salvation comes at the cost of the collective capacity of society; for every individual action that withdraws from the collective out of fear of repression or corruption ultimately contributes to the perpetuation of the very order it seeks to escape.
In modern Iranian history, a clear example of this condition can be seen in the periods following the failure of social movements: after each wave of repression, rather than forming organized resistance, society turns inward. People may shift toward lifestyle reform, migration, or introspective critique, yet they distance themselves from collective action. Consequently, negative freedom becomes a safe but fruitless refuge.
2.3. Passive Resistance and the Ethics of Survival
In closed systems, a certain “ethics of survival” emerges — a set of informal norms that teaches people how to avoid the harm of power without directly confronting it.
This ethic, rooted in historical experience, appears to be a form of social wisdom, but in practice it leads to accommodation with injustice. People learn how to “cleverly” bypass laws, pay bribes, or rely on personal connections instead of public institutions.
Such behavior, while it may protect the individual in the short term, gradually erodes the culture of trust and collective responsibility in the long run. Over time, a society forms in which no one trusts institutions, the law, or even one another.
2.4. Technology and Negative Freedom
The advancement of communication technologies in recent decades has created new possibilities for maintaining individual freedom. The internet and digital space were initially regarded as tools for escaping censorship and media monopolies. Yet experience has shown that this space, too, rapidly transforms into a domain of large-scale surveillance and control.
Major technology platforms, through data collection and the shaping of public opinion, have themselves become a new informational oligarchy. In this context, digital freedom is available only to those with the skills and awareness necessary for independent use of these tools — a small group, often drawn from the cultural middle class or the technological elite.
Thus, negative freedom in the digital age, rather than becoming democratized, has turned into a class privilege.
2.5. The Limitations of Negative Freedom
Negative freedom, though essential for preserving individual dignity, cannot by itself liberate society from oligarchic domination. In the absence of organization, independent institutions, and social solidarity, individual freedom is quickly exhausted.
History has shown that no oligarchic system has ever collapsed merely because individuals withdrew from it. Even in cases such as Eastern Europe before the fall of communism, individual withdrawals became effective only when accompanied by underground social networks and forms of civic cooperation.
Therefore, while negative freedom represents a necessary stage in personal self-awareness, it leads to liberation only when it transforms into positive freedom — that is, into collective action.
2.6. Individual Economic Resilience and the Limited Freedom of Elites
In recent years — especially in societies facing sanctions, state monopolies, or structural corruption — a form of individual economic resilience has emerged: an attempt to circumvent formal systems through technology, cryptocurrencies, and direct engagement with the global market.
At first glance, this path seems to promise a kind of economic freedom, since individuals can maintain income and financial independence without relying on corrupt domestic institutions. Yet in practice, such a model is accessible only to a small number of technically skilled and globally connected elites — those with access to international languages, technological literacy, and digital financial expertise.
Moreover, even these tools are gradually subjected to the control and oversight of power structures: governments and financial cartels are striving, through regulation and digital transaction tracking, to bring this limited space of freedom under their authority.
Thus, individual economic resilience and the use of cryptocurrencies, though they open a narrow window toward autonomy, have not yet evolved into a collective movement or an alternative economic structure. Economic freedom, in this sense, remains an “island” floating in the sea of oligarchy.
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Positive Freedom in an Age of Oligarchy — Reconstructing Collective Action
3.1. From Negative Freedom to Collective Action
Positive freedom, in contrast to negative freedom, finds meaning not in the escape from power but in the exercise of power — a power that arises from below, from the collective will and coordinated agency of citizens.
In conditions where formal institutions are monopolized by oligarchic groups, reconstructing collective action means redefining political power itself: power not as domination, but as the capacity for coordinated social action.
However, the transition from negative to positive freedom is a difficult and costly process, for it requires the rebuilding of trust, the creation of horizontal dialogue, and the formation of informal institutions within an order fundamentally based on mistrust and control. In such an order, any form of popular organization is perceived by those in power as a threat, and every expression of social solidarity is suppressed under political or security pretexts.
Nevertheless, history shows that even in the most repressive systems, collective action never completely disappears.
3.2. The Seeds of Solidarity Amid Isolation
Oligarchy, despite all its power, is inevitably a producer of crisis; for the concentration of wealth and authority inherently generates internal contradictions and widespread discontent. In such circumstances, even scattered and localized acts of resistance can gradually evolve into broader social movements.
Examples such as the Polish labor movement of the 1980s, the anti-corruption protests in Latin America, or even the spontaneous movements of teachers and workers in Iran demonstrate that collective action begins from the small but tangible realities of everyday life — from workplaces, local associations, professional groups, and cultural networks.
Although these movements may initially lack leadership or centralized organization, through persistence and the exchange of experiences among participants, they gradually develop more sophisticated forms of coordination and collective demands.
In fact, by weakening formal institutions, oligarchy unintentionally creates space for informal and spontaneous institutions — ones that emerge outside the control of the state and gradually become the genuine custodians of civil society.
3.3. Rebuilding Trust as the Precondition for Positive Freedom
No lasting collective action is possible without social trust. In oligarchic societies — where deceit, corruption, and hypocrisy have become institutionalized — rebuilding trust is the most difficult yet vital step on the path to freedom.
Trust, in this context, does not mean naïve optimism; it is the result of lived experience in cooperation and shared responsibility. In other words, people must relearn that they can rely on one another, even when official institutions are corrupt.
Local collaborations, small-scale participatory projects, and even micro-level sharing economies can serve as the foundation for such trust.
For instance, the experience of popular cooperatives in several South American countries, or networks of mutual aid during Greece’s economic crisis, demonstrated that rebuilding trust from below is more effective than political reform imposed from above. This form of solidarity constitutes the very foundation of positive freedom in an age of oligarchy.
3.4. Media, Awareness, and Spaces of Dialogue
One of the principal arenas in the struggle between freedom and oligarchy is the domain of media and public consciousness.
To sustain itself, oligarchy relies not only on economic monopolies but also on the monopoly of narratives. By contrast, positive freedom begins the moment people can produce alternative narratives — ones that tell the stories of daily life, social suffering, and collective aspirations in their own voices.
Spaces of dialogue — whether in the form of independent media, social networks, or even small cultural gatherings — provide the ground on which collective awareness takes shape.
In Iran, the spread of online media, podcasts, and independent analytical groups, though limited and at times fragile, shows that the freedom of dialogue precedes political freedom. A society that learns to speak and to listen matures toward democracy far sooner than one that waits for formal political reform.
3.5. The Role of Independent Elites and Civic Intellectuals
In oligarchic systems, elites are usually either co-opted by power or pushed into isolation. Yet a new form of intellectual leadership is emerging: networked intellectuals and mid-level activists — individuals who are neither at the top of the power hierarchy nor in complete marginality, but who live among the people and act as mediators between personal awareness and collective action.
This group can sustain the link between the public and the idea of freedom by producing local knowledge, cultivating social education, and crafting independent narratives.
In the information age, the influence of intellectuals no longer stems from the university chair or the editorial desk, but from their ability to network and sustain dialogue across diverse social groups.
3.6. Collective Action in Times of Repression
One of the most difficult questions is how to sustain effective collective action under conditions of repression and pervasive surveillance.
The experience of the twentieth century shows that enduring movements usually arise from nonviolent resistance and informal networks.
Historical examples — from Poland to South Africa — reveal that even within systems of total control, small forms of resistance, from underground education to professional solidarity, can gradually erode the ruling order.
In this context, the key to the survival and effectiveness of movements lies in their flexibility and decentralization; instead of vertical hierarchies, they must rely on horizontal networks, civic education, and collective memory.
3.7. Oligarchy and the Future of Freedom
Contrary to common belief, oligarchy is not invincible. The concentration of wealth and power, though it may bring short-term stability, ultimately leads to the erosion of legitimacy and effectiveness.
History has repeatedly shown that whenever formal institutions have been engulfed by corruption, society has generated new institutions from within itself to survive and to seek liberation.
Therefore, in an age of oligarchy, positive freedom is not an abstract ideal but a historical necessity — a necessity for preserving the meaning and dignity of collective life in a world where the economy, politics, and culture have all fallen under the monopoly of a few powerful entities.
Conclusion: Freedom in the Age of Concentration and the Erosion of Power
Oligarchy, in its modern sense, is not merely the domination of a wealthy group over the economy; it is a comprehensive order that has dissolved the boundaries between economy, politics, and culture, linking every sphere of life to the orbit of power and capital. In such a condition, even enduring concepts such as freedom, justice, or development are exposed to redefinition.
In other article, we saw how the commercialization of agriculture and the rise of capitalism in Europe gradually led to the growth of individual freedoms and the expansion of the middle class, while in the Middle East—particularly Iran—the same process culminated in the concentration of power and the formation of an economic oligarchy. This historical divergence can be traced to the structure of power institutions and the economic culture of each region: in Europe, capitalism developed in conjunction with civil and legal institutions, whereas in Iran and the Arab world, it became embedded within traditional power networks (the court, the military, the clergy), producing not freedom but rent-seeking, corruption, and structural inequality.
In this study, we pursued the question of what freedom means under such conditions, and through what paths it might persist. Our answer was twofold:
On the one hand, negative freedom — the individual’s effort to escape domination, isolation, or moral and personal independence from corrupt structures — is vital, yet remains limited and fragile. On the other hand, positive freedom — the reconstruction of collective action, social trust, and grassroots independent institutions — offers a more demanding but more enduring path toward emancipation.
This distinction is not merely philosophical; it has been repeatedly confirmed in historical experience. In Eastern Europe, in Latin America, and even in contemporary Iran, wherever society has managed to move beyond the level of individual discontent and to build spontaneous institutions (local associations, professional networks, or independent media), the process of oligarchic decline has begun. Conversely, wherever resistance has remained confined to the individual level, corrupt power has been reproduced even after crisis.
Oligarchy does not survive solely through military force or censorship; it endures through a culture of distrust, economic dependence, and moral submission. In such a world, freedom is no longer defined simply in opposition to tyranny, but in opposition to the habit of powerlessness. Positive freedom means breaking that habit — reclaiming the sense of collective agency in a world that has reduced us to consumers, spectators, and subordinates.
Thus, in an age of oligarchy, the defense of freedom begins not with grand slogans but with small acts: local cooperation, independent storytelling, civic education, professional solidarity, and networks of trust within society. These seemingly modest forms of action, over time, erode the very foundations of oligarchic legitimacy.
Yet caution is necessary: history has shown that no society attains freedom merely through the downfall of a ruling class. Freedom requires the creation of new structures of power — power that arises from the people rather than being imposed upon them. This is precisely where the concept of social self-creation gains meaning: a society that, instead of waiting for liberation from above, recreates itself from within.
In other words, money and markets—if left unchecked by independent institutions and a participatory culture—inevitably lead to oligarchy; but if redefined within the framework of dialogue, trust, and social justice, they can become instruments of liberation.
Therefore, the fate of freedom in the twenty-first century depends more than ever on the ability of societies to rebuild the bond between economy, ethics, and politics.
