Initially, the war appeared to stabilise Iran’s politics. A wave of patriotism pulled rulers and ruled together after years of polarisation. Calls by Binyamin Netanyahu, Israel’s prime minister, for Iranians to rise up fell on deaf ears. But since the ceasefire on June 24th the multiplicity of opinions on how to preserve unity has made the country look more fragmented.
Mr Khamenei’s preferred option is cosmetic. To appeal to a population disenchanted with clerical rule, he is dressing his theocracy in nationalist clothes. During celebrations on July 5th for Ashura, the anniversary of the martyrdom of the Prophet Muhammad’s grandson, Hussein, and the republic’s holiest day, Mr Khamenei ordered a muezzin to drop his incantations and instead sing Ey Iran Iran, a rendition of a patriotic anthem that was popular before the Islamic revolution in 1979 and had since been suppressed. He has played Shia saints down and puffed up Iran’s pre-Islamic past. New billboards in city squares give ancient Persian myths modern themes. Mr Khamenei has also turned a blind eye to a new crop of television shows, including a wildly popular Persian version of “Love Island”, where unmarried couples flirt and make out. In parts of Tehran, the capital, headscarves and long coats for women feel like a relic of the past.
But such concessions are designed to reduce the demand for political change, not herald its coming. Earlier this month Mr Khamenei reappointed his crusty Friday-prayer preacher and his 99-year-old head of the Guardian Council, the latter for the 33rd time. After a few brief post-war appearances, the state broadcaster has removed reformists from its airwaves. Executions are up; a widely expected amnesty for political prisoners looks far off.
His diminishing power makes the country’s future increasingly uncertain https://t.co/E1nUPGW6G5
— The Economist (@TheEconomist) July 30, 2025