Tehran As Imam Khamenei Leaves It

Translated by Al-Ahed News, Al-Akhbar Newspaper

There is little in Tehran to suggest that a war once took place in this city-unless one reads it through the sudden shift in its atmosphere on the eve of the funeral of its Supreme Leader, who governed Iran from here for nearly a third of a century.

There is little in Tehran that indicates war at all, unless, upon arrival, one is met by schoolbags and small shoes belonging to the girls of the Minab school massacre, neatly arranged in a corner of Imam Khomeini Airport.

There are no clear traces of an aerial bombing campaign, except for the occasional damaged building standing amid the city’s elegant structures, its sprawling neighborhoods, and its crowded streets and markets. Or one may be told that “Quds Square,” where one stands, was once struck in a famous and heavily documented air raid during the June war-its swift restoration having erased nearly all visible traces.

In contrast, the consequences of the siege are unmistakable in every detail.

The city that welcomes its visitors through the gilded shrine of Imam Khomeini and a security checkpoint manned by members of the Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps soon confronts the visitor with what appears, at first glance, to be a certain “complexity”—as one notices a woman without a headscarf riding alone through the streets on a motorbike in the middle of the night.

Tehran, a city abundant in greenery, has seen its trees- on the occasion of the funeral ceremonies- become, in a sense, a forest of images of its slain Imam, portrayed as having been killed by the “Great Satan” and the “Lesser Satan.”

This is something the city had not known before, contrary to what some might assume. Unlike in certain countries of the region, images of the “Leader” are not widely spread across the streets. Instead, one finds among them references to figures associated with resistance and liberation, even non-Muslim ones, such as Nelson Mandela. Yet none of them bore the name of “Ali Khamenei” during his lifetime [though there is now a proposal, following his martyrdom, to name Azadi Street in the city center after him].

The funeral ceremonies do not conceal the complexities of the social and political landscape. Murals bearing national slogans are widespread, yet the picture changes when one approaches the fixed nightly gatherings that have remained in the squares since the outbreak of the war.

In Hassan Tehrani Moghaddam Square, in the heart of Saadat Abad- named after the figure described as the “father of the missile program- some traces of the protests of last January are still visible on the turquoise-domed Mosque of the Prophet, which was set on fire at the time. This, according to our accompanying guide, explains the presence of an armed Basij security point in civilian clothes a few meters before the entrance to the square.

This gathering is more crowded, and the assembled groups maintain a palpable emotional intensity, evident in their chants and tears. They carry banners, including the yellow flags of Lebanon’s Hezbollah, and raise a red banner inscribed with the word “Revenge.”

Here stands an Iranian girl dressed in a black chador, holding a portrait of Khamenei the father combined with an image of Al-Aqsa Mosque, bearing the inscription: “The liberation of Al-Makdes is near.” When some colleagues greeted her, wishing her “Iran’s victory,” she replied that what she truly seeks is “the victory of Islam.”

In San’at Square, a cleric addresses the crowd from a pulpit, while a screen mounted behind him displays charts comparing birth rates in Iran with those of “Israel” and the United States, warning against the dangers of population-control policies.

This transformation of gathering points into a structured form of political and revolutionary mobilization represents an investment in a reservoir of confrontation and in a popular stance that rejects compromise. At the same time, it complicates any attempt to sustain coexistence between the revolutionary current and segments of society that prioritize living standards over foreign policy positions, as well as others more concerned with personal freedoms and inclined toward a liberal social model closer to contemporary Western lifestyles – some of whom aligned themselves with the state during the war.

This latter group has just secured a small victory over the system through the suspension of enforcement against women not complying with the hijab law, a move that has effectively reinforced its “normalized” presence in the public sphere.

It would be simpler if we were not dealing with the Iranian model of the “permanent revolution,” which distinguishes the Islamic Republic from other systems born out of revolutions. This model assumes that the revolutionary mission did not end with the seizure of state power, and that the system’s legitimacy is rooted in using that power to continue fulfilling these missions – including, externally, supporting the oppressed, and internally, reshaping Iranian society into an ideal Islamic model.

The more important perspective today lies in trying to understand this coexistence, along with its new developments, through a refreshed lens- one that moves beyond the traditional reading of an inherent contradiction between two social identities tied to lifestyle, often seen as the foundation of political tension. While the adhesive that has temporarily contained these contradictions in this period has been a sense of nationalism in response to external aggression, and the belief that the Islamic Republic is the most capable system of confronting hostile ambitions and preserving Iran’s unity and independence, the question of whether this state of affairs can endure becomes more pressing once the “wartime phase” comes to an end and the new leadership defines its approach to domestic affairs.

As for predictions that speak with certainty of an inevitable collapse of this coexistence, they may amount to a premature simplification in a country that is, by nature, accustomed to managing complexity and navigating multiple, interwoven layers of reality.

And “complexity” in Iran is institutionalized. It is reflected in the diversity of its institutions and manifested in the clear differences between the revolutionary and national languages. One example is what is said to foreign journalists by a spokesperson for the Khatam Al-Anbiya Headquarters and what is said in response to the same question by an adviser at the Ministry of Foreign Affairs.

Iranian officials do not hesitate, even when commenting on government positions, to use phrases such as “in my personal opinion” to express views that are critical rather than justificatory. This goes beyond mere evasion or accommodation of the questioner; it points to a certain internal dynamism within the decision-making structure and a plurality of orientations. This was particularly evident in the stance on the negotiation process.

The body of Sayyed Ali Khamenei departs Tehran – the city from which he ruled as president for years and as jurist – ruler for decades – returning to his birthplace in Mashhad in the east of the country. Yet what the architect of modern Iran left behind will remain in the nation’s political capital, accompanying generations of Iranians to come.