The Leader Is Dead, the Successor Shrouded in Uncertainty: A Riddle the Islamic Republic Cannot Solve S. Rouzbeh ۱۴۰۵/۰۲/۰۳ S. Rouzbeh asks whether the Islamic Republic, after nearly half a century of rule through authority, threats and sanctity, can no longer even close the chapter on its leader’s death. Delayed burial, uncertainty over the burial site and the successor’s absence from public view raise questions about succession, decision-making and a regime caught in its own web of lies, hypocrisy and propaganda. S. Rouzbeh – Is a government that has ruled for nearly half a century through the language of authority, threats and sanctity now unable even to close the chapter on its leader’s death? Is the delay in the burial and the uncertainty over the burial site merely a security consideration, or a sign of a deeper crisis in succession within the power structure and the regime’s ability to make decisions? And does the successor’s remaining hidden, alongside unconfirmed rumours of a secret burial and the failure to announce the grave’s location, not send a message to society and the world that, at the most sensitive moment in its existence, the Islamic Republic has become trapped in a web of lies, hypocrisy and self-created propaganda? What we see today is no ordinary administrative delay. Reports indicate that, after Khamenei’s death was announced, a farewell ceremony and funeral procession were due to be held in Tehran, but these were postponed. At the same time, other reports stressed that Mojtaba Khamenei had been named as successor, but remained out of public view, while his actual role was still shrouded in uncertainty. After Khamenei was killed in US and Israeli attacks, the Islamic Republic’s power structure has been under pressure from war, negotiations, internal divisions and doubts about Mojtaba’s real standing. In a normal system, a leader’s burial is not simply the interment of a body; it is the moment when one era closes and another begins. At that scene, the past is supposed to be buried and the future revealed. The successor is supposed to be seen and heard, the circle of power is supposed to line up beside him, and the system is supposed to tell the people and the world that the transfer of power has been completed and the government remains in control. But in the Islamic Republic’s case, precisely where it should have shown the greatest resolve, the greatest uncertainty is apparent. This inability to bring the scene to a close has itself become news and a sign. This brings us to the first important question: is the government afraid of the ceremony itself? This is a very serious possibility. If a large, public funeral is held, everyone’s attention will immediately turn to the successor. If he does not appear, questions about whether he is alive, his health, or how much actual control he has over the power structure will multiply. If he does appear, but in a limited, subdued or unusual way, that too will expose the crisis rather than project authority. For a regime caught in crisis, uncertainty may therefore seem less costly than a clear but unfavourable image. Recent reports, too, have spoken of persistent doubts about Mojtaba’s condition, his remaining out of sight and fear … The second question is whether the regime itself has yet been able to construct a defensible narrative linking the death of the previous leader to the succession of the new one. This is the key point. From the outset, Mojtaba Khamenei has faced the heavy shadow of dynastic, family succession. In effect, a system that once rose to power with an anti-monarchical slogan now faces the accusation that it has transferred power along family lines under the cover of a religious institution. If this succession were politically and religiously secure and accepted, the government should have been able to close the scene with a large funeral and a carefully managed appearance. Its failure to do so strengthens the possibility that even within the system itself, no coherent and confident account of this transfer has yet been formed—and perhaps that this is a great lie and deception. The third question concerns rumours that have not yet been confirmed. On the one hand, there are rumours that Khamenei was buried in secret and that the location will be announced at a suitable time. On the other, because the government has yet to clarify the final location and arrangements for the burial, this information vacuum has given those rumours life. We should be precise: these claims have not, so far, been officially and independently confirmed. But the emergence and persistence of such rumours are not meaningless either. When a government cannot offer a clear, consistent and convincing account of even the most basic matter—the location of its leader’s grave—it hands the political space over to conjecture, rumour and interpretation. This is not a sign of authority; it is a sign of an absence of authority, weakness, confusion and disarray. Another question immediately arises here: is the Islamic Republic afraid of the people too? The likely answer is yes. A country under pressure from a battered economy, a currency crisis, the threat of a naval blockade, the heavy costs of proxy forces and the constant fear of social uprisings would naturally see even a funeral as more than a religious rite. For such a government, any large gathering could become a scene of protest, division, defections or, at the very least, a display of its lack of authority. That is why what should be a mourning and burial ceremony has turned into a security, political and psychological riddle. Today the government is itself grappling with the combined pressures of war, negotiations, domestic crisis and potential unrest. The government’s own propaganda has further complicated the situation. The broadcast of images asking people to contribute money towards building a shrine and mausoleum for Khamenei—even if this is not conclusive evidence of an official policy—places an obvious contradiction before us: the burial has still not been settled, the successor has not appeared publicly and naturally, yet the next stage—sanctification, building a shrine and raising money for a mausoleum—has already been brought into play. This means that, even in the death of its leader, the regime wants to generate religious and emotional capital before resolving the political crisis. But when this haste to sanctify is accompanied by uncertainty over the burial itself, it exposes the contradiction more than it creates authority. The reality is that the Islamic Republic now faces what is colloquially called ‘one thing piled on top of another’. It has the succession crisis, uncertainty over the war and ceasefire, economic pressure, the cost of proxy forces, repeated street crackdowns intended to intimidate the people, fear of an uprising, and an inability to close a chapter that any system should have brought to a close within a few days. This accumulation of crises has trapped in its own web the apparatus that kept itself going for years through lies, hypocrisy, ambiguity and propaganda. Every move is costly for it: if it holds a public burial, it must also show the successor; if it does not show the successor, rumours of his death will intensify; if it keeps the burial secret, its weakness will become more apparent; if it takes refuge in shrine-building and sanctity, the contradiction will grow more glaring. This situation is not a minor matter from a religious perspective either. In Islamic tradition and Shiite jurisprudence, the principle is to hasten the preparation and burial of the dead. Therefore, if the burial has not taken place, this prolonged delay is itself problematic; and if it has taken place but has been deliberately kept secret, that still means the government is avoiding a clear announcement of the truth. In either case, the political weight of the matter is considerable. The issue is no longer just the grave; it is the regime’s fear of the consequences of the grave itself. The conclusion, then, is clear. Today, amid the United States’ declaration of a unilateral ceasefire, the continuation of the naval blockade, the failure to export oil, and conditions of neither war nor peace, the regime finds itself in a position where it must solve this riddle. The central riddle is not simply where Khamenei has been buried or when he will be buried. The real riddle is why the Islamic Republic, with all its security, propaganda and religious apparatus, has still been unable to turn its leader’s death into a clear ending and the succession into a convincing beginning. Unconfirmed rumours of a secret burial may or may not be true; but the very conditions that gave rise to these rumours are a direct product of the government’s own conduct. What is certain is that the regime must resolve this riddle, because the continued uncertainty is no longer merely a delay in the burial; it is evidence of political weakness, internal fractures and fear of society. The leader is dead, the successor remains hidden and shrouded in uncertainty, and the system is caught in the web it wove with lies and false propaganda. This may be the clearest sign that, even at the most important moment in its existence, the Islamic Republic fears every move it might make next more than it controls events. Source: https://srouzbeh.com/en/posts/archive-63fb6728-7ae7-0094-f70e-f1560069520a Please credit the author and link to this edition.