If rancor were dollars, the Islamic Republic would be flush. As Iran staggers toward 2024, the political infighting among principlists this year stands out for its nastiness, and it is likely to get even nastier as the Majles elections approach. Politics in Iran, as in a lot of places, has always been a contact sport, but it seems to have taken on a malevolent edge this year. This is more impression than verifiable fact. That said, in the past year Kayhan—hardly a paragon of understatement, it is true—has tarred former President Hassan Rouhani as a traitor whose statements are aligned more with the Mossad than the Iranian people, and a range of conservative commentators have taken shots at President Ebrahim Ra’isi’s wife for referring to the Supreme Leader’s wife as Iran’s “First Lady.” Perhaps, as the old nursery rhyme concludes, “words will never hurt me,” but the factions have been willing to use sticks and stones, too: back in January the regime executed a former deputy defense minister with close ties to former Supreme National Security Council Secretary Ali Shamkhani and former Majles Speaker Ali Larijani in what was likely a hardline move to discredit the two prominent conservatives. “Homogenized” government has hardly ushered in an era of political harmony—and the trend lines are going south.
The Islamic Republic’s factions have always been fissiparous, so the infighting was to be expected. And the nastiness is not unprecedented, in that, as we discussed in this space a couple of weeks ago, the hardliners have rarely hesitated to employ violence against their political opponents. But now the nastiness is in-house, between ostensible allies. The ideological differences among the different flavors of principlists are minor compared to the ideas and principles that divided conservatives from reformists. Perhaps that is part of the answer—hatred toward heretics of the same faith is always stronger than that toward infidels. But a more important reason is the advancing age of Supreme Leader Ali Khamenei.
His Nibs is 84 and, in the past, has been treated for prostate cancer. With each passing year, the likelihood grows that he will shuffle off this mortal coil and, for the first time since 1989, the Iranian political establishment will need to select—or “discover” as the more hardline ones would have it—a new supreme leader. As a consequence, the assorted magnates and grandees of the Nezam are jockeying for position, readying to advance their interests and secure their position in the transition to a new leader. This competition has raised the stakes of the endemic political competition in Iran and made the routine thrust and parry of Iranian politics more vicious.
Personal political ambitions certainly fuel the competition, but the issues at stake are larger than those mundane motives. The supreme leader determines the parameters of Iranian politics and policy. Khamenei’s death will represent the ultimate political reset. In his absence, new opportunities and directions, perhaps long foreclosed, become possible, or at least thinkable. In his second term as president, Rouhani once admitted that “no change in Iran is possible until the distribution of power is changed,” which was a subtle shot at the control exercised by Khamenei and the IRGC. A leadership succession, especially if it is prolonged, makes a redistribution of power in the Nezam possible, even if it remains unlikely. For those who see their political relevance and power ebbing away under the status quo, the transition to a new leader may constitute their best chance to change direction and halt their decline. A long shot is better than no shot at all.
Thus, the ongoing “purification” process pushed by the hardliners in the Paydari Front is not just about enforcing ideological conformity or securing more political sinecures for its members. It is a bid to pack the government with hardliners and maximize their ability to influence the succession. As reported last month in the PersuMedia Daily Summary, Paydari secretary-general Sadeq Mahsuli has begun to kvetch that President Ebrahim Ra’isi’s administration—arguably the most hardline administration yet, with a strong Paydari element—is not sufficiently revolutionary because it has failed to hire only “true” revolutionaries. This may also be a warning to Ra’isi, who is viewed as a potential successor to Khamenei, that he cannot take for granted the support of the Paydaris in a succession struggle.
It is likely as well that such calculations informed the efforts of Majles Speaker Mohammad-Baqer Qalibaf and conservative politico Gholamali Haddad-Adel to organize a new conservative coalition, the Assembly of the Awakening of Revolutionary Forces, referred to by its Persian acronym MAPNA. The Paydari Front has long been gunning for Qalibaf, and MAPNA—which gathered as many as 4,000 attendees at its founding convention in October—is Qalibaf’s vehicle to not only ensure his victory in the Majles election, but to organize a principlist alternative to the dogmatic Paydaris. Accordingly, MAPNA is emphasizing in its slogans robust participation in the election and unity, as well as efficiency addressing the nation’s problems without “sloganeering.” It’s a cleverly crafted message that in its calls for unity and strong voter participation shows fealty to Khamenei, but also stands in opposition to the Paydari’s exclusivism and perceived preference for a low voter turnout. And talk of solving problems without resorting to “sloganeering” is a dig at the ideological Paydaris—and Ra’isi—and a nod to Qalibaf’s past as a Tehran mayor who got things done like the building of a new freeway and the Tehran metro. Interesting, too, is Haddad-Adel’s apparent alignment with Qalibaf—who has been increasingly at odds with President Ra’isi—because Haddad-Adel is also the father-in-law of Mojtaba Khamenei, scion of the current Supreme Leader and another figure likely on the short list to succeed Khamenei pere.
The heavyweights in this struggle are, of course, both principlist groupings: MAPNA and the Paydari Front. The reformists, shattered and sidelined, seem unlikely to play much of a direct role in a succession. But in what is a clear example of a faction seeing in the succession an opportunity to improve its political prospects, Hasan Rouhani and his Moderation and Development party have become more active. In November, Rouhani announced he was aiming at the Assembly of Experts election, which will be held concurrently with the Majles election in March. The Assembly of Experts, composed of 88 clerics elected to 8-year terms, is the body with the constitutional authority to elect a new supreme leader; the Assembly to be elected in 2024 stands a good chance of exercising that authority sometime before its term is up. Speaking to a gathering of alumni from his administration, Rouhani not only announced his candidacy last month, but argued that if he and his colleagues could elect some 10 to 20 likeminded figures to the Assembly, they could affect the succession process. He’s not wrong: a bloc of 20 Rouhani allies would constitute nearly one quarter of the Assembly of Experts and would be in a strong bargaining position when it comes time to select a new leader. It is no wonder that hardline media have since howled for the Council of Guardians—who vet candidates for office—to disqualify Rouhani. Leaving nothing to chance, the Paydaris are agitating for Khamenei to designate his own successor—thus essentially taking the decision out of the hands of the Assembly. As noted in our featured article in this week’s newsletter, the Paydari Front has reached back to the dawn of Islam for precedents to bolster their case for Khamenei naming his replacement.
So, who is going to succeed Khamenei? Nice try—handicapping the succession in Iran is a mug’s game. Too much is unknown, and too much can happen while we wait for His Nibs to join the choir invisible. For a long time, Ayatollah Sayyid Mahmoud Hashemi Shahroudi was thought to be the front runner—and then he took himself out of the running by dying in 2018. Former Judiciary Chief Ayatollah Sadeq Amoli-Larijani, scion of a prominent and powerful clerical family, also looked to be on the fast track, but was derailed by allegations of corruption. Right now, the two names most often mentioned are President Ra’isi and Khamenei’s son Mojtaba. Ra’isi’s stock has taken hits due to his presiding over what many consider the Islamic Republic’s most inept administration so far. The Economist and the Emirates Policy Center in Abu Dhabi both make good cases for Mojtaba to be the one to watch. We’ll see.
The IRGC may well be the most important institution to watch when Khamenei expires. As an institution, the Revolutionary Guards know well how the succession to a new leader can change the fortunes of a person, group, or institution. In 1989, with the war with Iraq over, the Guards were uncertain about their role in a peacetime Iran. The new president, Ali Akbar Rafsanjani, was considering merging the IRGC with the Artesh, the regular armed forces, which would severely diminish the IRGC’s privileged status and autonomy. Khamenei, the new supreme leader, may have “saved” the guards. The newly elevated mid-level cleric was looking for a base of support, and the IRGC was looking for a patron. He told the Guards, “Without the IRGC, the revolution cannot be defended,” and a powerful alliance was made. The IRGC’s political and economic clout has grown immensely since then, and it will have a lot to lose if a new leader does not share Khamenei’s view of the Guards Corps as indispensable. That does not, however, provide any greater clarity as to who the IRGC might back for leader: both Mojtaba and Ra’isi have good ties to the Guards. Mojtaba, with his position in the Office of the Leader, may have the stronger power base—but the IRGC might prefer a weak leader, an empty suit willing to take his cue from the Guards, and that seems like a role Ra’isi was born to play.
Meanwhile, like the refugees in the movie Casablanca, we wait, and wait, and wait. But while we wait, we can watch the demolition derby that is Iranian politics under the Islamic Republic. Most of the advantages lie with the principlist factions, so the idea of a new supreme leader hatching a more democratic Iran seems like an outcome with very long odds, indeed. Still, in trying to counter the exclusivist Paydaris, more pragmatic conservatives may see it in their interest to promote greater participation by the people in the election, and that in turn may cause them to ease up on some of the more galling social restrictions. Alternatively, if the Guardian Council disqualifies Rouhani and any other prominent figure who might ruffle the status quo, further “Stalinization” of the Nezam is likely in store. If so, elections will increasingly become a decorative ritual rather than a means, however imperfect, by which the population can make their policy preferences known. Whatever the ultimate outcome, the messy process of getting there will affect the calculations and policy choices of Iran’s quarreling factions for quite some time. Like a train wreck, it won’t be pretty, but it will be hard to look away.
