Since the United States launched a joint military campaign against Iran with Israel in February, many commentators and historians have returned to a chapter in modern history: the Iran hostage crisis of 1979. On November 4, a student demonstration outside the U.S. embassy in Tehran turned into a full-scale assault on the diplomatic compound, and 66 Americans were taken hostage. It was the culmination of decades of tension, which began with the role of the U.S. and Britain in installing the Shah of Iran to protect energy interests and ended with a popular uprising that toppled his oppressive regime and forced him into exile. As many people remembered this historic episode, one detail has taken on new resonance: 16 days after the crisis began, 13 hostages, including four women and six men of color, were released.
Why were 10 black hostages released early, and what global political tensions influenced the moment? James Hughes, then 30, a US Air Force sergeant assigned to the embassy, was one of the hostages released. In an interview with The Guardian, he recalls the difficult days in captivity and the connections they have to the current US conflict with Iran.
With a graying beard, Hughes today, at 76, gives the impression of a dignified and wise man. His voice is warm, his words well-thought-out and calmly spoken, a self-control forged during a life of military service. Born in New Orleans, Hughes grew up during the Jim Crow era. “I went to segregated schools, had to step off the sidewalk when white people came. I lived my whole life with racism and prejudice,” he says. Hughes served in Vietnam at a time when African-American freedom was being seen as an international project, while Martin Luther King, Angela Davis and other civil rights activists were linking racial justice in the United States to struggles against imperialism in other countries.
After serving in Vietnam, Hughes arrived in Tehran in the fall of 1979, never expecting to be part of a historic showdown. “I loved the idea of traveling and experiencing different cultures,” he says. “The Iranians I met in the markets and bowling alleys were very nice people. It was a beautiful place, with good food and the best pistachios in the world.”
He describes his job as an administrative manager as “boring.” That all changed on the cold, rainy morning of November 4, the day after his 30th birthday. Anti-American demonstrations outside the embassy, common during his first month in office, had become more aggressive after word got out that the Shah was being treated for cancer in the United States. Even as protests grew outside the embassy walls, Hughes believed they would never make it inside. “I didn’t think it would happen, because most countries protect their embassies to the max,” he says. But the crowd began to pour in. For three hours, a small group of Marines held the protesters back with tear gas, long enough to destroy classified documents. Eventually, they were defeated, and the protesters took control of the embassy, while the Iranian Revolutionary Guard and local police watched.
“They blindfolded me, handcuffed me behind my back, and sat me on the floor. That’s when I realized this was no joke,” Hughes recalls. Hughes recalls spending his days tied to a chair, keeping time to the cries of “Death to America” that came through the newspaper-covered windows, and surviving on rice, water, and goat cheese, which he can no longer eat today, after being given it every morning during his captivity.
At one point, he recalls, “I felt someone touching my skin and hair. My first thought was that they had never seen a black person up close.” The initially reserved attitude toward the American hostages quickly turned to harsher treatment. During one interrogation, Hughes recalls a gun held to his head, the trigger ready to fire, and the thought, “This is the end of my life.” He thought he would never see his wife and young son again. What was supposed to be a formative experience in the cradle of religion turned into a crisis of faith. “I was disillusioned. I thought, ‘Where is God when you need him?’” he says. Then something happened that resonated around the world: the release of 13 hostages, including Hughes. The theocratic Iranian regime claimed to be showing solidarity with America’s marginalized classes.
“African-Americans have lived for a long time under oppression and pressure in America and may have been sent to Iran against their will,” declared Ayatollah Ruhollah Khomeini.
The goal was clear: to put pressure on the US and strengthen the legitimacy of the Iranian revolution. A month later, an Iranian Foreign Ministry spokesman said that Khomeini was receiving letters from “African-Americans and Africans” thanking him for his “pro-African-American actions.” However, this action only demonstrated once again that African-American history was often used for political gain in international revolts and conflicts. Today, the cultural exchange seems to work both ways. African-American activism is often referenced in the struggle for freedom of the Palestinians and the Arab world, while hip-hop music is often used as a soundtrack to protests in the Region.
But that relationship remains complicated, due to the Islamic Republic’s history of repression of its people. This month alone, Iran has faced a wave of near-daily executions as authorities try to suppress protests amid war with the US and Israel.
Meanwhile, in 2026, some African-Americans on social media seem less involved in the debates about Iran and more in solidarity with Iranians. Some posts on TikTok and Instagram show African-Americans wearing Palestinian keffiyehs, dancing to Arabic trap music or mocking the fear of being sent to war. On the other hand, Iranian social media has also been filled with memes and viral videos. One of the most shared images showed an Iranian drone “Shahed 136” with the face of Tupac Shakur and the inscription “In memory of Tupac” and “Killuminati”, a reference to the conspiracy theories that have accompanied the rapper and his criticism of American power. Historically, Iran has been very active in reaching out to African-American activists. The Iranian Revolution of 1979 was seen by some circles of the African-American left as a model of resistance to imperialism.
In 1980, when protests erupted in Miami after four police officers were acquitted of the death of an unarmed African-American Marine, Iranian state media organized solidarity demonstrations across the country, including a rally of about 200 people in Tehran.
In 1984, the Islamic Republic even issued a postage stamp for Malcolm X, 15 years before the United States did. However, not all African Americans see the Iranians as allies in a common fight against American imperialism. During the 1979 crisis, Vernon Jordan, president of the National Urban League and later an advisor to Bill Clinton, argued that the African-American hostages should remain in Iran until all Americans were freed. Many Americans saw their release not as an act of mercy but as a betrayal. Hughes remembers receiving a lot of hate mail. “They wrote to me, ‘You should have stayed. You’re a coward. Black people never stay loyal.’ But I was handcuffed, under armed guard, and they forcibly took me to the airport. I didn’t come out of my own free will,” he says.
The psychological consequences followed him for years. Hughes says he suffered from severe post-traumatic stress disorder, which contributed to the breakup of his first marriage and strained his second. “I started withdrawing from people around me. I went to a psychologist for three years. I had no energy for anything,” he recalls.
In 2003, the Pentagon began awarding captive medals to Iranian hostages, after years of effort. But the 13 hostages released earlier were often treated differently from the 52 others. Hughes’ medal arrived in 2012 by UPS and was left on the porch of his Denver home. Only later was he honored at a formal ceremony at Fort Logan, where he had worked after retiring from the military. Today, Hughes remains a soldier loyal to the chain of command. Asked about the current crisis with Iran, he says, “Whether or not I think we should have gone to war with Iran is just an opinion. I don’t do politics. I just vote and that’s it.”
But he adds that young African-Americans are becoming more interested in their history. “When I see people with the slogan ‘Make America Great Again,’ I always wonder: how far back in time do they want to go?” (The Guardian)