Iran’s Supreme Leader Ali Khamenei took part in a Muharram mourning ceremony at his compound in Tehran on Saturday, appearing before a select audience for the first time since Israeli attacks began on June 13, photos and videos released by his office show.
His attendance breaks weeks of absence, during which he issued only prerecorded video messages amid reports he had been moved to a bunker for security reasons.
“The Hussainiyah exploded (with emotion) when the Supreme Leader arrived… The waves of this explosion will reach Tel Aviv and the White House — a powerful surge of devotion, love, and longing from the people for their leader,” said a member of Khamenei’s office when describing his first public appearance since the start of the war with Israel.
Iranian eulogist Mahmoud Karimi sang the patriotic song "Iran, Iran" upon Ali Khamenei's request, he said at the beginning of performing it at the Saturday ceremony.
Critics say the Islamic Republic selectively invokes patriotic and nationalist sentiments during times of war and crisis to rally support, while otherwise suppressing such expressions in favor of promoting loyalty to the broader Islamic ummah.
Widespread blackouts have returned to Iranian homes and public facilities, days after the war with Israel ended, exposing the fragility of the country’s power infrastructure, which had briefly held up while much of the country was shut down.
Officials now cite rising demand and long-standing shortfalls in generation capacity as the cause.
The grid is unable to meet current consumption levels, prompting scheduled two-hour power outages daily, Iran's state electricity company chief, Mostafa Rajabi Mashhadi said. “The demand exceeds production,” he said, adding that outages would decrease only if energy use fell.
“The shortages will ease whenever the energy crisis is reduced to a minimum,” he said, a vague promise that has done little to calm public anger.
Iranian citizens have begun circulating videos of renewed blackouts in cities like Ahvaz, where summer temperatures regularly exceed 50°C.
“After the war ended, the Islamic Republic went back to factory settings,” one resident said in a video sent to Iran International.
Electricity generators, once confined to bakeries, were now being used by most businesses, driving up noise and pollution, he added.
Subsidy system overhaul planned
In parallel, Mohammad Bahrami Seifabadi, a lawmaker on the parliamentary energy committee, unveiled a new two-tier pricing scheme for power and gas.
“Each person will have a fixed energy quota and pay full cost beyond that,” he said, framing it as a replacement for Iran’s current subsidies system.
“Instead of subsidizing consumption, energy support will go to each national ID and individual,” Bahrami added.
Temporary stability during war
Power outages had temporarily eased during the recent 12-day confrontation with Israel, with many workplaces shut. Officials implied the grid had improved, but analysts say the drop in usage, not any reform, was responsible.
“Power cuts during the war were because everything was closed, but the government claimed the credit,” said Reza Gheibi, an Iran International journalist. “Now the deficiencies are back in the open.”
Energy Minister Abbas Aliabadi promised earlier this week that nighttime blackouts would be minimized. “If necessary, disruptions will occur more during the day,” he said in early June.
Successive Iranian summers have seen repeated electricity shortages, often described by officials as “imbalances” between supply and demand.
Energy experts attribute the crisis to underinvestment, dilapidated infrastructure, and a chronic failure to expand power generation, which is estimated to lag by roughly 14,000 megawatts.
A resident of Ahvaz said the latest outages have been especially punishing: “It feels like they are making us pay for the war with Israel.”
Supreme Leader Ali Khamenei’s declaration of victory in the recent war with Israel and the United States continues to be met with disbelief and ridicule by many ordinary Iranians who mock his televised remarks from a hidden location.
In dozens of messages sent to Iran International's submissions line, Iranians lambasted Khamenei for what they called a false triumph narrative delivered from underground.
“This shameless coward sends messages from a rat hole while the Israeli prime minister walks among his people,” one person said. “Even a kid can tell what really happened.”
In a June 26 speech broadcast from an unknown location, the 86-year-old theocrat said Israel “was nearly brought to its knees" and that Iran had dealt the United States “a harsh slap”.
“If he’s telling the truth, let him come out and speak," another person told Iran International. "He’s still hiding in the sewers."
Mockery was sharp and specific in almost all messages. Another described the leader as “a baby-faced coward high on his own smoke, completely out of touch.”
A leader underground, a public exhausted
A Tehran resident added: “We’ve lived under this regime for nearly fifty years. We’ve learned to reverse everything they say. If he says we crushed them, it means we were crushed.”
Khamenei’s continued isolation was a recurring theme for contributors.
“He hasn’t seen sunlight for weeks. He’s delusional from being underground too long,” one message read. “Come up and see if even a dozen people still believe your story.”
Several messages questioned why, if victory had truly been achieved, key Iranian figures like Foreign Minister Abbas Araghchi reportedly had to request safe passage from Israel just to leave Iranian airspace. Others said even funeral processions of senior commanders were clearer signs of defeat than any speech.
“You weren’t leading anything,” said another viewer. “You hid while others died. Then you reappeared to lecture us from a camera.”
“We’re tired. We’ve survived forty-six years of war, lies and plunder. Enough,” said another.
One contributor predicted there would be no refuge from an inevitable popular backlash: “One day, the people will raise a new flag with bare hands. That day, there will be no bunker and no lie left for you to hide behind.”
Ali Khamenei has not appeared at any public gathering or event since the start of the 12-day war with Israel. He skipped the funerals of slain military commanders and nuclear scientists, and did not even attend the annual mourning ceremonies held at the Hussainiyah in his Tehran compound.
A senior Iranian official said the country must go beyond platform filtering and fully implement a “national internet” system to protect citizens from what he called foreign digital espionage, Iranian media reported on Thursday.
Mostafa Mirsalim, a member of the Expediency Council and former presidential candidate, said foreign messaging apps were “tools of Zionist surveillance” and urged the public to abandon them.
“Filtering alone is not sufficient,” he said. “The government’s main goal is to launch a reliable national information network, and we hope this will be realized soon with the help of our experts.”
The proposal follows widespread internet disruptions during Iran’s 12-day war with Israel, which reignited public criticism of state censorship and shutdowns.
Officials have defended the blackout as necessary for national security, warning that VPNs used to bypass restrictions may themselves be exploited by foreign intelligence.
“People should stop using these platforms voluntarily,” Mirsalim said, adding that government restrictions would be unnecessary if citizens acted “wisely.”
Iran has long promoted the idea of a “national internet,” officially known as the National Information Network — a domestically controlled infrastructure that can operate independently of the global internet.
Critics say it would allow authorities to disconnect Iran from the outside world during protests or conflict, and further isolate users from uncensored information.
The war has paused, but the collapse has not. Shaken by defeat in the streets, across the region, and from the skies, the Islamic Republic now stands weakened and exposed. The pillars that once held it up, ideology, reach, and fear, are cracking.
The Islamic Republic has begun sealing itself off from the world.
Today, Iranian state media announced that President Masoud Pezeshkian signed a law suspending cooperation with the United Nations’ nuclear watchdog, the IAEA. Inspectors will no longer be allowed access to Iran’s contested nuclear facilities. This decision comes just days after Israel and the United States inflicted unprecedented damage on those very sites during a 12-day campaign.
The move heightens the risk of war but also underscores a deeper truth: something irreversible is unfolding.
What began as a 12-day campaign of missile strikes, drone attacks, and air raids has paused, but only just. A ceasefire is in place, yet it may be more fragile than ever, liable to collapse at any moment. Most of Iran’s nuclear facilities were struck during the offensive, but the true extent of the damage remains unclear. If Iran still retains sufficient capacity, it may now accelerate uranium enrichment, not only to gain leverage in future negotiations but to reestablish deterrence in the face of overwhelming vulnerability. With inspectors barred under the new law, suspending cooperation with the IAEA, the next phase of this confrontation may shift from visible strikes to hidden centrifuges.
Yet, beneath this high-stakes brinkmanship, lies a regime already in retreat. The Islamic Republic’s collapse is no longer a distant scenario; it is underway. Over the past three years, Iran has suffered three strategic defeats: one from below, one abroad, and one from above. Each shattered a pillar of its power, ideological control, regional reach, and deterrent capacity.
Blow from above
The most recent blow came from the skies.
In a twelve-day campaign, Israel, joined in the final phase by the United States, inflicted the most severe damage the Islamic Republic has endured since its founding. Iran’s air defenses were dismantled, missile infrastructure crippled, and its nuclear program set back by years. Senior IRGC commanders and nuclear scientists were killed in strikes deep inside Tehran.
What shocked Iran wasn’t just Israel’s reach, it was Washington’s decision to join in. For decades, Tehran’s core strategic doctrine rested on the belief that the United States would avoid direct confrontation. That doctrine, built on proxy warfare, ambiguity, and the assumption of American restraint, has now collapsed. The red lines Iran once counted on no longer exist.
It wasn’t just military damage; it was a collapse of assumptions.
The Islamic Republic will attempt to rebuild. But its adversaries, having demonstrated their reach, might not allow it. The ceasefire is brittle. More fire will follow.
Symbolically, the clerical establishment is entering a new phase of uncertainty. During the war, Supreme Leader Ali Khamenei went underground and has only appeared through pre-recorded messages from undisclosed locations. Even if he reemerges, the precedent has been set: the threat to his personal safety is now constant. Israel has changed the rules of the game. Nowhere, and no one, is beyond reach.
That new reality is already reshaping how the Islamic Republic functions. Khamenei has quietly appointed a new commander to lead the Khatam al-Anbiya Central Headquarters, the central entity in the command chain of Iran's armed forces. Yet the Islamic Republic has withheld his name; two of his predecessors were killed within days of each other. For the IRGC, long accustomed to operating in the open, this marks a profound shift. At least for now, it must act like a force in hiding.
Collapse abroad
But the unraveling didn’t begin in the air.
In December 2024, Iran was forced to withdraw from Syria after the fall of its last meaningful ally, Bashar al-Assad. Years of investment, billions of dollars, thousands of fighters, and hundreds of IRGC casualties vanished in weeks. Israeli airstrikes, shifting Arab alliances, and regional backlash reversed a decade of expansion.
This was Iran’s Afghanistan moment.
Just as the Soviet retreat in 1989 exposed the limits of empire, Iran’s expulsion from Syria marked the collapse of its revolutionary reach. It wasn’t a tactical withdrawal. It was a reversal of ambition.
The retreat also delivered a psychological blow to the Islamic Republic’s support base. Analysts and ideologues who had long defended Iran’s presence in Syria as a strategic depth and moral imperative suddenly found themselves without a narrative. On state media and affiliated platforms, questions began to surface, not from critics, but from within: Why did we fail? What was the sacrifice for? This erosion of confidence among Islamic Republic loyalists has further hollowed out the ideological core that the system depends on to survive.
Revolt from within
But the deepest rupture came from inside.
In 2022, the death of Mahsa Jina Amini in custody sparked the Women, Life, Freedom movement. Since then, women across Iran have discarded the hijab in open defiance, and the Islamic Republic has not been able to stop them.
Today, unveiled women walk freely in major cities. The morality police, reactivated to enforce hijab laws, are failing. A regime built on obedience can no longer uphold one of its core pillars.
This wasn’t reform; it was rout.
Western governments largely missed it. Even amid the recent war, foreign correspondents in Tehran walked past unveiled women and reported nothing about it. Some even appeared on camera in hijab, respecting the Islamic Republic’s rules while ignoring the population’s defiance and a newly established norm.
But Iranians have not been silent.
During the Woman, Life, Freedom movement, the diaspora flooded the streets from Berlin to Washington. Berlin alone saw 100,000 protesters. These weren’t rallies about sanctions, they were calls for liberation. After the June strikes, Islamic Republic loyalists abroad attempted anti-Israel rallies. They failed. Iranians know the enemy isn’t Israel, it’s the Islamic Republic.
Inside Iran, the clerical establishment’s grip on public mourning has weakened. Funerals of IRGC commanders, once orchestrated as national rituals, drew subdued crowds. The state sought grief. It was met with apathy.
Still, in Western capitals, some continue to echo the Islamic Republic’s slogans. Cloaked in the language of “resistance,” they defend a system that even Iranians have rejected. As the Islamic Republic’s pillars crumble, these foreign sympathizers cling to a myth its own people have already abandoned.
A regime in freefall
Three defeats. Three broken pillars.
The clerical establishment has lost its ideological hold, its regional reach, and its deterrent capacity. It still censors, still imprisons, but no longer inspires fear or belief. What remains is brittle. What’s emerging is not reform. It’s freefall.
Diplomatically, Iran is more isolated than ever.
The suspension of cooperation with the IAEA may be aimed at gaining leverage, but it risks backfiring. A renewed referral of Iran’s nuclear file to the UN Security Council looms. European powers are considering triggering the snapback mechanism under the 2015 nuclear deal. Despite tough talk, Tehran is likely to return to negotiations with Washington, but from a position of historic weakness.
Its nuclear program is damaged. Its missiles have been exposed. Its leverage is gone.
This is not a regime to be recalibrated. It is one in structural decline, squeezed from above by military humiliation and from below by cultural revolt. To analyze today’s Iran using yesterday’s paradigms is to misread a rupture that is already underway.
Beyond Iran
The consequences won’t stop at Iran’s borders.
The 1979 Revolution reshaped the Middle East. It empowered political Islam, displacing secularism and nationalism. From Beirut to Baghdad, the Islamic Republic exported a militant, ideological model.
Its collapse could reshape the region again.
Today, Persian Gulf states are racing to modernize, digitize, and diversify their economies. Massive investments are flowing into infrastructure and artificial intelligence. Western governments are betting on a post-ideology Middle East. A transformed Iran could be the region’s missing piece.
Iran is not a failed state in waiting.
It is literate, urbanized, and cohesive. Islam shapes its culture but doesn’t define its identity. Even the Islamic Republic’s base lacks the fanaticism seen in other collapsing states. Iran is filled with engineers, doctors, and entrepreneurs, people who have thrived everywhere except at home.
They are not the risk. They are the alternative.
The fall of a repressive regime aligned with Moscow and Beijing would not bring chaos. It would bring renewal, for Iran, for the region, and for a world that has waited too long for both.
In the aftermath of a 12-day war with Israel, Iranian leaders and media are celebrating an unusual show of nationwide solidarity, but some warn that this calm—marked not by rallies but by silence—may soon give way to a deeper reckoning.
On Thursday, President Massoud Pezeshkian thanked all Iranians for their restraint during the conflict, including political prisoners.
The relative moderate was, in effect, praising the absence of street protests even as the state failed to protect civilians or address their fears.
Sociologist Saeed Moidfar, chairman of the Iranian Sociological Association, countered with a stark warning: “Unless the government takes serious steps to bridge the widening gap between the system and the people, the war’s end may not bring peace—but rather a fresh social crisis.”
A nation on display
Since the ceasefire, the vocabulary of Islamic ideology has yielded to an appeal to national identity. Headlines now lead with “Iran,” pushing aside references to Islam.
Even in Supreme Leader Ali Khamenei’s latest speech, the phrase “Islamic Iran” appeared only once, with no further mention of Islam.
State-affiliated outlets echoed the shift.
Reformist dailies Etemad and Arman Melli ran front-page features lauding “national coherence” and praising public figures who promoted solidarity.
In a symbolic flourish, the Tehran Symphony Orchestra performed the patriotic anthem “O Iran” beneath the Azadi Monument.
Dozens of artists and cultural figures gave scripted interviews celebrating the country’s cultural legacy. Etemad devoted an entire front page to their portraits.
A government in debt
Calls for unity came with a growing sense that the state now owes the public something in return.
Reformist sociologist Hamid Reza Jalaipour urged the state “to reward the people after the cease-fire as a gesture to strengthen national unity.”
Even some conservatives echoed the theme.
“It is now the government’s turn to respond to the people’s resistance during the war,” former newspaper editor and pundit said—a tacit admission that officials failed to shield citizens from missile strikes.
The elephant in the room
Members of parliament have also been busy readjusting to the post-war reality—calling for changes to show they stand with the people, even as they unanimously voted to sever Iran’s cooperation with the UN nuclear watchdog to affirm their ‘revolutionary’ credentials.
“The government must overhaul both its economic and foreign policies,” national security committee member Ahmad Bakhshayesh Ardestani said, calling for urgent measures to rectify failure and improve people’s livelihoods.
Committee colleague Behnam Saeedi also urged policies that would ease economic pain and “reconcile with critics alienated from the system.”
In nearly every appeal for reform, the word “government” functions as a cautious euphemism. Almost no one dares name the real decision-maker.
Supreme Leader Ali Khamenei bears ultimate responsibility for leading Iran into this war. His directives, even implicit gestures, determine the country’s foreign, military and economic policy.
Only he can authorize a course correction—something few expect him to do.
For now, Iran’s leadership is leaning on a language of inclusion and patriotism. Whether or not it lasts, and whether it can translate into meaningful change, remains uncertain.