The Islamic Republic has always lived in a state of “critical moments.” Much like the revolution, its crises change form or multiply but never seem to end. So, why hasn’t the political system faced the risk of destabilization? In recent years, the widening class divide, systemic government corruption, and international pressures have fueled public discontent, sparking sporadic nationwide protests.
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Why has the government managed to control these protests so far? Over the past four decades, the monopoly on information has slipped from the government’s hands. External media, especially satellite channels, the proliferation of the internet, and frequent international travel have profoundly transformed the flow of information and public awareness. Even official or semi-official media daily reports on the economic corruption of government officials and affiliates, exposing elements of the repression against political dissidents and civil activists. A large segment of society is simmering with frustration over current affairs. And yet, why doesn’t the deepening sense of despair among the public lead to a break from passivity? Is there any prospect for regime change and the establishment of democracy?
Finding answers to these questions is challenging without agreement on the concept of “revolution” and a clear definition of the Islamic Republic’s nature.
The term “revolution” has sometimes been conflated with popular uprisings, coups, religious wars, or radical governmental reforms, leading to ambiguity. Here, we use “revolution” to refer to a widespread mass movement that, often through force and violence, ends the fundamental elements of a political system to replace it with a desired new order. According to Lenin, revolution occurs when people are no longer willing to endure life under the established system, while the rulers’ ability to exert power through existing means has eroded. Therefore, widespread poverty and misery do not necessarily lead to popular rebellion or regime collapse. On the contrary, general despair can, under certain conditions, sustain the ruling class by portraying it as the sole hope for guaranteeing basic needs like bread and security.
The Islamic Republic is neither a democratic system nor a fully authoritarian one; rather, it belongs to the family of regimes that political scientists today refer to as “hybrid regimes.” This model combines democratic institutions with authoritarian mechanisms. Just as hybrid vehicles use two types of energy sources, hybrid regimes rely on both ideological structures and coercive power, allowing them to navigate serious challenges without resorting to fundamental reforms or risking collapse by fully closing off reform options.
Other terms for these regimes include “competitive authoritarianism” or “electoral authoritarianism.” Most regimes that emerged after the fall of the Eastern Bloc and the end of the Soviet Union—such as in Russia and certain developing Latin American countries—serve as examples of hybrid regimes. Ironically, several of them result from velvet revolutions or forceful overthrows that, in practice, have merely given new forms to the toppled totalitarianism. Many of these regimes have survived for decades, and signs of cracks or collapse in their structure remain relatively scarce.
The hybrid regime possesses a democratic form but a totalitarian substance; it represents a flawed and committed democracy where a closed circle of elites competes for power, utilizing elections and democratic institutions as tools for legitimization. Although elite competition is serious, the electoral process cannot be described as fair or free.
The central role of the Supreme Leader is such that he embodies the state. In the discourse of the Islamic Republic, the leadership is sometimes referred to as “the system.” The true seat of government is the “Leadership House.” According to expediency, the Leader serves as the supreme legislative authority oversees its implementation, and has the right to abrogate it. Special emergency measures and authoritative decrees can turn any situation into an exceptional condition, suspending the law in the process. The application of the constitution is ceremonial and conditional. Centers of power dominate government institutions and powers and lack the conventional authority and independence found in democratic countries, including the judiciary, which is dependent, law-violating, and an appendage of the regime’s hardcore. The system is designed in a discriminatory and privilege-bestowing manner, with ethical blindness being a prominent characteristic.
Unlike the totalitarian regimes of the twentieth century, hybrid regimes exhibit creative ideological flexibility. While promoting skepticism toward Western culture, they often surpass others in their Westernization efforts. By reducing the ideological energy needed to mobilize the public, they either blow the horn of extreme nationalism or evoke religious sentiments to compel even opponents of the government to align with their domestic and foreign policies.
The ideological principles of quasi-authoritarian regimes are theoretically confused and ambiguous, and in practice, they are applied arbitrarily. The theoretical ambiguity and operational irregularity lead to a reduction of ideology to a form of personality cult. Commitment to the ruling system is interpreted as loyalty and allegiance to its powerful individuals and institutions, especially the leadership. Citizens’ freedom to participate in the political process depends on their closeness and loyalty to the pillars and centers of power. To gain access to the power stronghold, personal allegiance and loyalty are more crucial than commitment to ideology.
Politics entails the equal participation of all citizens in defining the common good and making decisions for national interests. Democracies define the state from the perspective of such politics. However, in regimes like the Islamic Republic, politics is defined from the viewpoint of the state. The ultimate goal of the government and the philosophy of law is not to protect national interests and citizens’ rights but rather to serve an abstract notion like “the people” and—in the case of the Islamic Republic “the pure Islam of Muhammad.”
Hybrid regimes build the most powerful and extensive intelligence and security apparatuses to scrutinize not only government departments and organizations but all public spheres under a security and military microscope. Civil society institutions and organizations are free to operate, but they function within the framework of strict oversight and unwritten rules imposed by the government. Civil society is alive but weak, able to push back against the state and impose its demands only in exceptional conditions or through a slow and limited process. The government considers limited freedom of expression for a few opponents only to project an image of being democratic.
In hybrid regimes, media that are classified as non-governmental enjoy greater freedom of action, yet they are subject to the soft control of security and oversight apparatuses and sometimes become platforms for their propaganda. In this context, social media plays a dual role. On one hand, they break the state’s monopoly on information, while on the other, they create a fertile ground for the growth of populism, compensating for the weaknesses of traditional state institutions in mobilizing the public.
Leaders, much like Machiavelli, believe that “people are ungrateful, deceitful, cowardly, and self-serving.” In past totalitarian regimes, the tools of governance for exerting power combined repression with loyalty: if the state could not win someone’s or some group’s loyalty, it would resort to repression. However, in hybrid regimes, the existence of electoral mechanisms allows for a broad space for the continuous emergence of populism, especially during election campaigns when public opinion is excited and takes to the streets. When the public’s hope in the government’s effectiveness wanes, a new wave of populism can arise.
Indicators suggest that, on one hand, a significant portion of the population does not see the overthrow of the Islamic Republic as the only unavoidable option, and on the other, the complex mechanisms of power exercised by the Islamic Republic are effective in managing society and controlling discontent fluidly. Thus, the state manages to temporarily seize public hope and trust, thereby restoring its legitimacy, even if only relatively. Formerly popular officials, ousted from the centers of power, appear as critics and reformers, silently becoming the only official opposition in the country. Compared to the opposition outside the government, they enjoy greater privileges and freedoms. Here, we face inherently authoritarian regimes alongside practically dependent reformists who compete in electoral conditions as the “ruling party” against “virtual opposition” or managed dissent.
Outside of the government, there are significant individuals or social groups that benefit from cooperation and collaboration with the state in various fields. Since the ideology is incoherent and flexible, cooperation with the state does not necessarily require a “practical belief” in its ideology. One can define shared interests with the government out of personal, nationalist, or group motives, and consciously or unconsciously contribute to strengthening its social base, even while maintaining skepticism and disbelief in the ideology.
In many cases, entering the state network serves as a means to acquire wealth; thus, the degree of loyalty of each state official and government authority to the ruling ideology varies. In collaborations between individuals and groups with the government, personal and group profit motives often play a stronger role than ideological faith and commitment.
Economic and cultural corruption extends beyond the officials or direct affiliates of the government. The identity and success of a significant portion of ordinary people are indebted to various forms of structural corruption. The benefits that different social classes, even those dissatisfied and critical of the government, derive from state corruption bind them to the regime with an invisible chain. Unlike Soviet communism, hybrid regimes do not have class-based attachment or commitment. Therefore, they can have common or opportunistic interests with any social class or group. Moreover, disillusionment and frustration with the government are not confined to a specific class. Political alliances are not limited to groups and institutions within power; some governmental institutions can be powerful allies of social institutions and powers, such as religious institutions. Consequently, the state is not the sole absolute decision-maker; powerful institutions outside the government influence the decision-making process.
These countries are governed by a type of rentier capitalism. Wealth is arbitrarily redistributed among the old and new elites of the political system. New elites use legal mechanisms to temporarily nationalize private wealth, only to privatize it again for their benefit and that of their clients.
Hybrid regimes appear to respect international laws, but in practice, they maintain a cunning, cynical, and hypocritical approach toward the global community. While they combat the West, they are not isolationist. They actively seek to establish a relationship, albeit not a robust one, with Western countries and look for allies among similar regimes. The domestic and foreign policies of these regimes are based on pragmatic radicalism, meaning they continually test the limits of risk and evaluate profit and cost to advance their unilateral desires.
The state’s flexibility and unpredictability insulate it from pressures exerted by civil society or the international community. Neither ideology nor the constitution, but rather the will of the leadership is the sacred principle of the regime. The compass of the state’s ship orbits around expediency. Political language represents the authentic body of power. In the mirror of ambiguities, the multi-faceted and meaningless political language of these regimes reveals the mixture and confusion of their ideological foundations and concepts.
The Islamic Republic, as one of the current hybrid regimes, is a quasi-totalitarian religious-security system. Despite its struggle against the “cultural invasion” of the West and its relentless battle against modern culture and humanities, it has an insatiable appetite for modern technology, especially military and armament industries. With an instrumental view of modernization, it sees cultural confrontation as a softer form of military warfare. Alongside its determination to acquire costly and consequential nuclear and military technology, it also regards the acquisition of cultural technology as a security necessity. Intending to control public opinion or engineering society, it generously and indiscriminately invests in acquiring advanced “soft power” technologies.
Common interests between the government and individuals, institutions, and groups outside of it blur the lines between the government and the people. For example, in today’s Iran, the clergy, despite its lack of uniformity, benefits immensely from the Islamic Republic. Although many government officials and agents are clerics, the clergy institution is officially outside of the government and under its management and supervision. However, it is difficult to classify the clergy as either inside or outside the government, especially since the Iranian government derives its legitimacy not only from the ideology of the guardianship of the jurist but also from the recognition of Shia Islam as the state religion in the constitution.
Thousands of cultural institutions and economic enterprises are under the control of the Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps (IRGC), but they are managed by academics, merchants, and civilians who quantitatively outnumber the official personnel of the IRGC several times. On the other hand, the indistinct boundaries between the private and public sectors, along with structural and administrative complexities, make it nearly impossible to discern the line between the government and civil society.
Importantly, the shared interests with the government should not be limited to material and economic wealth. The ruling regime, just as it has an unquestionable dominance over national assets and the public economy, also seeks to monopolize symbolic capitals: from prominent positions in the social hierarchy to the methods of producing and distributing symbolic capitals in the realms of religion, culture, and national identity. For example, becoming a movie star or expanding the reach of religious authority cannot be achieved without considering the sensitivities, needs, and expectations of the government.
It should not be forgotten that, as is the case with the Islamic Republic, ongoing crises are not always a threat to the stability of the political system. It can be said that the regime’s survival is tied to the persistence and renewal of crises. The crises of the past 40 years in Iran have not always been accidental and unintended; rather, in many cases, they have been deliberately and systematically produced. The social relations system and the logic of the market for symbolic goods are largely subject to the desires and will of the government, to the extent that even Iranians traveling and migrating to other countries must behave “according to decorum” and within the frameworks and prohibitions set by the regime, otherwise they are punished by being denied free access to this market. Social actors, without any intention or awareness, spontaneously act within the framework defined by the government and in line with its policies. The quantity and sometimes the social strata of citizens who reproduce and distribute its values in total disbelief of the ideology are far greater and more influential than those who are committed to the ideological foundations of the regime and its leaders.
Evidence shows that, on one hand, a significant portion of the people do not see the overthrow of the Islamic Republic as the only inevitable option before them, and on the other hand, the complex mechanisms of power exercised in the Islamic Republic are effective in containing society and managing fluid discontent. The costs of a revolution against the regime are high due to its ability to use violence, without even having a guarantee for the success of the revolution, even if the costs are accepted.
Today, the notion of overthrow as the only immediate solution has little appeal. One reason is that neither the revolution nor the eight-year war has faded into the distant past and still remains alive in the collective memory. The traumatizing and horrifying effects of these two events have not lost their unsettling novelty in the lives of many people, including the younger generation.
Today’s Iranian society has become highly atomized. The spirit and social solidarity necessary for a public mobilization against the government do not exist. Individuals, despite increasing difficulties, generally try to lead their daily lives in a way that keeps them as far as possible from harm.
It should not be overlooked that, as is the case with the Islamic Republic, ongoing crises are not always a threat to the stability of the political system. It can be said that the regime’s survival is tied to the persistence and renewal of crises.
The only peaceful and effective way to change the regime is to restore the self-confidence of civil society and its efforts to rely on itself. Cutting off the common interests of civil society from the current semi-authoritarian regime is an unavoidable necessity and a daunting task.
Voluntary crises play a role similar to shock therapy. Shock torture resets the brains of the prisoners, bringing their minds to a zero-degree state and neutralizing their resistance, preparing them to comply with the interrogator’s demands. Similarly, shock crises suddenly prevent society from thinking and render it defenseless against the superior authority, namely the tyrannical and totalitarian state. At this point, society sees the state as both a source of pain and a remedy, as the way out of the deadlock cannot come from the exhausted capabilities of society, and no haven is seen other than in the embrace of the state. The severe shock drives the people to the peak of confusion. The sudden disorientation and anxiety can only be alleviated by a controlling force. The crisis regime is a machinery of enemy-making and a factory of fear. The subjugation of society and its surrender to the state are reconstructed through delusion and fear. The enemy is not only the enemy of the government but also equally hostile to the people and the government. The regime tries to present the problem not as a domestic foe—which is real—but as a fictional monster lurking behind the door. The common enemy of the people and the regime appears to be more terrifying than the regime itself. The worsening of the crisis is seductive and even encourages the regime’s opponents to suspend their demands and rise to defend the “principle of the system” and “the existence of the country.”
Nevertheless, the weakness of the likelihood of revolution in the future does not imply the eternal survival of the Islamic Republic. Not only does the policy of internal repression have a limited lifespan, but the regime’s regional and international ambitions also potentially threaten its durability. Depending on various internal and external factors, regime change could occur through means other than revolution. A coup, the death of leadership, and military confrontation with a coalition led by the United States are among these possibilities, each of which could independently turn the last page of this chapter.
The regime can fall without effective intervention from civil society, but its replacement with democracy necessarily requires civil society. With the disarray and fragmentation of civil society, regime change will not transcend a superficial and formal transformation; instead, with the collapse of the Velayat-e Faqih, its hardcore will resurface under a new name and identity, taking control of the country.
Cutting off the common interests of civil society from the current semi-authoritarian regime is an unavoidable necessity and a daunting task. A revolt against the Islamic Republic can only succeed by denying its entrenched values and norms. The legacy of totalitarian systems includes fragmentation (schizophrenia), delusion, self-absorption, and disconnection from reality (psychosis). Evidence shows that many Iranians have become sensitive to this ominous legacy and are seeking ways to address and remedy it. Nevertheless, for effective civil resistance, we primarily need a moral and spiritual revolution; a revolution aimed at achieving freedom from absolutism, ending the suppression of individual will, and standing against the homogenization of citizens.
Such a transformation is possible through a conscious commitment to reality and critical rationality; that is, the courage to know and to emerge from self-imposed immaturity. The principled honesty of civil society leaders with themselves and their citizens ignites the light of hope in politics and unites brave hearts and free souls.
The original version of this article was published on Radio Farda. The opinions expressed in this note do not reflect the views of Radio Farda.
