A Coffin Instead of a Will: The Islamic Republic in Search of Legitimacy after Khamenei
S. Rouzbeh
۱۴۰۵/۰۴/۰۹

The absence of a will, confusion among the Assembly of Experts, the role of the IRGC and the unanswered question of Mojtaba Khamenei.

S. Rouzbeh

The absence of a will, confusion among the Assembly of Experts, the role of the IRGC and the unanswered question of Mojtaba Khamenei

Three simple but weighty questions confront the Islamic Republic these days:

If Ali Khamenei had a will, why has it not been published at the most sensitive moment in the transfer of power? If, under the Constitution, the Assembly of Experts is responsible for appointing the Leader, why are the IRGC and security headquarters more visible in the public arena than the Assembly of Experts? And if Mojtaba Khamenei is at the centre of the power equation, why has his presence or absence itself become a political mystery and a source of uncertainty?

These questions do not arise from mere curiosity. A system that, after Khomeini’s death, turned his will into a textbook, a propaganda document and an instrument of legitimacy now maintains a meaningful silence about the will of its second Leader. To date, no official written text of Khamenei’s political will has been published. This absence is itself striking in a structure that has always used texts, images and ceremonies to manufacture legitimacy.

Khamenei was not a man unfamiliar with death. He was 86 years old and had spent years at the head of a dictatorial system that made decisions about the lives and deaths of millions of Iranians (including banning the import of American and British vaccines and ordering the killing of protesters during demonstrations). Can we accept that such a person prepared no text or will for the day after him?

If a will exists, why is it not being read? Perhaps it contains something about succession, the IRGC, negotiations with the West, war or the future of the Islamic Republic that does not fit the new balance of power. Perhaps the text is so general and ineffectual that it cannot be used to manufacture legitimacy. In either case, silence costs the system less than publication.

But a third possibility may be more important: Khamenei deliberately left things ambiguous. In security structures, ambiguity is sometimes more useful than a document. A document ties the factions’ hands; ambiguity allows each group to present itself as the continuer of the ‘Leader’s path’.

At this point, the role of the Assembly of Experts should have become clear. Under the Constitution of the Islamic Republic, the Assembly is the body that must determine succession when the leadership becomes vacant. Yet what we see is not legal calm but political discord and confusion.

The statement by 66 members of the Assembly of Experts, followed by the Assembly secretariat’s response, made this crisis more visible. By opposing the reopening of the Strait of Hormuz, calling for the nuclear dossier to be removed from negotiations, and declaring Trump and Netanyahu ‘deserving of death’, 66 members of the Assembly effectively entered the field of threats and crisis-making instead of explaining succession and the future of power. A day later, the Assembly secretariat described the statement as outside the usual procedure and contrary to the preservation of unity, but did not explicitly reject its substance either. This means that the body which should speak for the law at a moment of transition is itself caught in ambiguity and division.

In such circumstances, Khamenei’s absent will takes on greater significance. No clear text from the previous Leader has been published; the Assembly of Experts has no unified voice; and the political stage is not free of the IRGC’s presence.

And now the bigger question:

Where is Mojtaba Khamenei!?

In any ordinary system, a son’s presence at his father’s funeral is natural; but here the issue is not merely familial. For years, Mojtaba has been presented as a power behind the scenes and one of the leading names in the succession debate. If he does not appear at the ceremony, his absence is itself a political message: that he, like his father and family, was killed at the site, leaving uncertainty behind. If he does appear, his presence could be an attempt to consolidate the official narrative. Even if a video or audio message is released, the central question remains: is this a real exercise of power, or merely the management of an image? In either case, the system’s weakness and helplessness will be laid bare, no matter how much noise it makes.

On the other hand, inviting foreign officials and delegations is not merely diplomatic protocol. When the IRGC is responsible for conducting the ceremony and the Foreign Ministry is mobilising to secure the attendance of foreign officials, their presence can serve as diplomatic cover and a visual deterrent for the system. In an atmosphere where security threats are taken seriously, the presence of foreign delegations can raise the cost of any potential incident for the parties involved, while also allowing officials of the Islamic Republic to present the scene as more international and controlled. The Islamic Republic wants to show that it is not alone; but the harder it strives to display legitimacy, the more pointed the question becomes: if legitimacy exists, why must it be rebuilt through a coffin, closures, streets, the IRGC and foreign guests?

In a country where people are living under the pressure of war, inflation, poverty, insecurity and psychological exhaustion, several days of closures, blocked routes and the organised mobilisation of crowds may be less a sign of authority than of disregard for people’s daily lives. People want bread, security, medicine and a future—not costly displays designed to conceal a crisis of legitimacy.

A funeral procession is not just a funeral procession. The coffin speaks in place of a will. The route of the procession takes the place of the Assembly of Experts. The IRGC sends a message in place of a text. An organised crowd is shown in place of the people’s vote. This is the point at which a death ceremony becomes a political operation; and no funeral procession, however large, can take the place of an answer.

A system that made a textbook out of Khomeini’s will, if it hides Khamenei’s will today, is telling the people itself that there is something within the corridors of power that must not be seen. And if there is no will, the question becomes heavier: what did a Leader who made decisions about other people’s deaths without hesitation leave behind for the day of his own death and for Iran’s future, other than destruction, killing, poverty, misery and …?

Perhaps the answer should be sought in this very silence—a silence more eloquent than any will.

Source: https://srouzbeh.com/en/posts/archive-b8225b12-bc67-3335-6507-cbe024085eb3
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