A Cultural Phenomenon: Redefining Iranian Television
Launched in London in 2010 by founders Kayvan and Marjan Abbasi, Manoto (meaning "Me and You") was a revolution for Farsi-speaking audiences. At a time when domestic state media was monolithic and ideologically driven, Manoto offered a vibrant, secular, and professionally produced alternative. It quickly became a household name, building a massive audience inside Iran despite being officially banned.
Its recipe for success was a potent mix of content. Hit shows like Befarmayeed Sham, a local adaptation of Come Dine with Me, and the wildly popular singing competition Googoosh Music Academy became national conversations. These programs, combined with lifestyle segments, celebrity news, and dubbed international series, provided a window to a world largely inaccessible to ordinary Iranians. The production quality was unprecedented for a Persian-language channel, rivaling that of major Western networks.
The Pahlavi Narrative: Reshaping a Nation's Memory
Beyond light entertainment, Manoto carved out a unique and controversial niche with its high-quality historical documentaries, particularly those focusing on the pre-revolutionary Pahlavi era. Programs like From Tehran to Cairo, chronicling the final journey of Shah Mohammad Reza Pahlavi, and extensive series on the royal family, presented a narrative of modernization, progress, and glamour.
This portrayal directly challenged the Islamic Republic's official history, which depicts the monarchy as corrupt and traitorous. For millions of younger Iranians with no memory of that time, Manoto became a primary source of alternative history, sparking a powerful wave of nostalgia and renewed interest in Iran's royal past. This programming, however, also fueled persistent speculation about the channel's funding. While the Abbasis maintained it was backed by personal funds and advertising, critics and the Iranian government frequently alleged secret funding from foreign powers or royalist factions, a claim that was never substantiated but shadowed the network throughout its existence.
The Unraveling: Financial Crises and a Talent Exodus
Despite its immense popularity, Manoto's high-cost operating model proved unsustainable. A combination of factors, including the crippling effect of international sanctions on the advertising market in Iran and the failure to secure new investment, led to a financial breaking point.
In late 2023, the network announced the inevitable: it would cease broadcasting on January 31, 2024. The news sent shockwaves through its audience and triggered a significant talent drain. Key presenters, producers, and journalists, who had become celebrities in their own right, were quickly poached by rival networks, most notably the well-funded, Saudi-backed Iran International, which also operates from London.
A Modest Return: A New, Complicated Reality in 2025
Just a few months after its closure, Manoto surprised viewers with a comeback, albeit in a dramatically different form. The network returned to the airwaves for viewers in Iran via the Eutelsat satellite, a less popular choice than the widely used Yahsat, frustrating many potential viewers.
Simultaneously, it adopted a modern digital strategy, launching a YouTube membership model for its international diaspora audience, asking them to financially support the channel in exchange for access to its archive and new content.
Today, in mid-2025, Manoto is a shadow of its former self. The programming is visibly scaled-down, often relying on rebroadcasts and lower-budget productions. The glamour and energy that once defined the channel have been replaced by a sense of austerity. While it retains a loyal core audience, its cultural impact has significantly diminished in a media landscape now dominated by more aggressive and well-funded players like Iran International.
An Uncertain Legacy
Manoto TV's story is a case study in the power and precarity of diaspora media. For over a decade, it didn't just entertain; it shaped cultural tastes, influenced social discourse, and rewrote historical narratives for a generation of Iranians. Its fall was as dramatic as its rise, a victim of economic realities and the complex geopolitics of the region.
As it struggles to survive in its new hybrid form, its golden age is clearly over. The legacy it leaves behind, however, is undeniable. Manoto proved the immense appetite within Iran for non-governmental, modern media and forced a national conversation about identity and history that continues to resonate long after its peak influence has passed. Its future remains uncertain, but its chapter in Iran's media history is already written.