Can the Cat Become Pious?

The Islamic Republic under the pressure of war, sanctions and a leadership crisis: which of the government's claws are still at work?

After years of repression, executions and confrontation with the public and the world, has the Islamic Republic recognised the need to change its behaviour? Or have the pressures of war, sanctions, economic crisis, social discontent and uncertainty over the leadership forced it to present a new face in order to retain power?

And the more important question: if this change is real, why are the claws of repression still at work in prisons, courts, the security apparatus and on the gallows?

In the satirical poem The Mouse and the Cat, commonly attributed to Obeyd Zakani, a cat notorious for hunting mice sets off for the mosque after killing and eating a mouse. He washes his face and paws, worships and repents of his past.

News of his repentance reaches the mice. They are so delighted that they set out to visit the cat, bearing gifts, unaware that the same familiar claws and teeth await them.

The cat had become pious, but he had not given up hunting.

Centuries have passed since that tale. Today, too, the Islamic Republic, caught in simultaneous crises, is showing signs of greater flexibility at home and a willingness to negotiate abroad. But is it the rulers' behaviour and beliefs that have changed, or merely their way of retaining power?

When the cat comes under pressure

The Islamic Republic now faces a combination of economic, military, political and social pressures.

For 2026, the International Monetary Fund has projected a 5.4 per cent contraction in real gross domestic product and inflation of 68.9 per cent. War, sanctions, restrictions on oil exports and the depreciation of the national currency have also added to people's difficulties in making ends meet.

There is considerable uncertainty at the top of the power structure as well. Mojtaba Khamenei, who became Supreme Leader after Ali Khamenei was killed in the February 2026 attacks, has been absent from public view for months, his whereabouts unknown. Reuters reported on 28 August that, since his appointment, no independently verified image or audio recording had been released to establish his presence and condition. Government officials say he is still making decisions, but the leader's prolonged absence has raised questions about his actual condition and how the country is being governed.

Under such circumstances, continuing to confront both society and the outside world carries a heavy cost. Easing some domestic crackdowns and seeking negotiations abroad may be a way to manage the crisis, without necessarily indicating a reassessment of the principles of government.

A cat that shows its claws less often in the street

One of the clearest examples of a change in the government's behaviour concerns compulsory hijab.

Hijab patrols are no longer present on many streets as they once were. More women are appearing in public without compulsory hijab, and the government has been unable to restore fully the situation that existed before the Woman, Life, Freedom uprising.

But should this change be credited to the government's kindness?

Women who stood up for the right to choose what they wear paid a heavy price. Arrest, threats, exclusion and violence could not deter them from demanding this right.

What we see on the streets today is therefore, above all, the result of social resistance and the rising cost of direct confrontation, rather than the rulers' generosity.

A Deutsche Welle report in October 2026 also indicates that, despite a reduction in some street-level crackdowns, compulsory hijab remains in force, with some of the pressure shifting to workplaces, public services and businesses.

It is as though the cat has accepted that it can no longer hunt in the middle of the street as it once did, yet has still not relinquished its right to hunt.

This retreat should not be credited to the government. Part of it is an achievement of a society that has refused to return to the past.

Which of the Islamic Republic's claws are still at work?

To assess whether the government has really changed, we cannot look only at the streets. We must examine what is happening in prisons, courts and the security apparatus.

According to Amnesty International, at least 2,159 people were executed in Iran in 2025, more than double the number the organisation recorded in 2024.

But the issue is not simply the number of executions.

Does the value of a human life depend on the charge against that person? Does someone convicted of murder or drug-related offences have less of a right to life?

Whatever the charge, the death penalty is the deliberate and irreversible taking of human life on the government's orders. Opposing it does not mean disregarding victims' rights or denying the need for lawful punishment. It means opposing the judiciary's power to end a human life.

In political cases, the issue takes on further dimensions, when people face security charges and the death penalty because of their beliefs, civil society activities or protests.

In its September 2026 report, the United Nations' Independent International Fact-Finding Mission examined the suppression of protests that began in December 2025 and documented instances of killings, arbitrary detention, torture and violations of fundamental rights. The mission characterised a number of the government's actions as crimes against humanity.

Repression is not confined to arrests and executions. Internet shutdowns can also deprive millions of citizens of contact with their families, access to information and the ability to report on violence. The UN report referred to extensive restrictions on communications during the protests and the war.

Restoring internet access, without limiting the government's power to shut it down again, offers no guarantee of freedom of communication.

The government's claws are not confined to the hands of officers on the street. They are also present in restrictive laws, detention centres, courts, gallows and mechanisms for controlling information.

As long as these powers remain unrestricted and the institutions responsible are not held accountable, a reduction in overt crackdowns cannot guarantee citizens lasting security.

The pious cat before the world

In foreign policy, too, the Islamic Republic has placed greater emphasis on the language of negotiation and de-escalation.

On 26 October 2026, officials from Saudi Arabia, Türkiye and Pakistan met officials of the Islamic Republic in Tehran to discuss ways of reducing regional tensions and preventing the conflict from spreading.

Negotiation is not, in itself, a sign of deception. Preventing war and protecting civilian lives are humanitarian imperatives, and any agreement that reduces violence can have positive results.

But there is a difference between negotiating to ease external pressure and reforming the government's relationship with its citizens.

A government under the pressure of war, sanctions and economic crisis may adopt the language of diplomacy to reduce the costs of confrontation.

Yet is the same government that negotiates to win the trust of foreign states also prepared to recognise the rights of its opponents? Can it engage in dialogue with protesters in the same way that it negotiates with foreign governments?

Negotiation can be a rational decision to prevent war. On its own, however, it does not answer citizens' demands for freedom.

Who believes the news of the cat's repentance?

In the tale of the mouse and the cat, the issue is not only the cat's repentance. There is also a mouse who carries the news to the others, and mice who set out to visit him with gifts before testing whether it is true.

In politics, too, a government's announcement that it has changed is the beginning of scrutiny, not its end.

The media, analysts and foreign governments may welcome de-escalation, but they must not overlook the distinction between a temporary retreat and fundamental reform.

Real change means that people's rights no longer depend on the government's interests of the day: restrictive laws are reformed; the judiciary and security apparatus are held accountable; freedom of expression and protest are guaranteed; and the government cannot simply resume its former methods whenever it wishes.

What has happened on Iran's streets is, to a large extent, the result of social resistance. What we see in foreign policy may reflect a necessity to ease pressure. And what continues in prisons, courts and the security apparatus shows that the instruments of repression remain intact.

These three realities must not be confused with one another.

In the old tale, the mice put their faith in the cat's piety and forgot his claws.

Today, too, the central question is not simply why the Islamic Republic is presenting a different face, but what pressures have compelled it to make this change.

Until the claws of repression are clipped, the garb of piety cannot be taken as a sign that the hunting has ended or that its ways have changed.