After years of accumulated failures, Khamenei faces protests that seek removal, not reform—making repression riskier, compromise impossible, and every move politically costly.
Ali Khamenei, the supreme leader of the Islamic Republic, urgently needs to put someone—or something—back in its place. He is trapped in a growing pile of disorder. His system of rule has lost the capacity to bring projects to completion. And by “projects,” I do not mean only economic or infrastructure plans. Political and international projects are failing one after another, too. Even what once seemed effortless for him—issuing the order to crush dissent and having his security forces carry it out—has become disrupted.
During his leadership, he has faced many waves of protest. Until 2022, most of those crises never reached the point where he truly felt the ground shake beneath him. Perhaps 2009 was the exception. He trembled—just a little—but after a few months he regained control. And even then, in 2009, the confrontation had not yet become a zero-sum struggle—one in which the opposition seeks the leader’s removal rather than limited reforms within the system. The people protesting on the street ultimately wanted to curb his interference in elections, defend the basic possibility of semi-competitive elections within the framework of the Islamic Republic, and did not aim to remove Khamenei from the leader’s office.
From Reform Demands to a Zero-Sum Confrontation
But trouble begins the moment the state steps into a zero-sum confrontation. Protests that demand “the overthrow of the Islamic Republic and its leader” are not the same as protests over fuel prices, the looting of financial institutions, electoral fraud, newspaper closures, or the plea for a small measure of “political kindness.”
Entering a zero-sum confrontation means losing the option of bargaining, gradual concession-making, and crisis containment. From that point on, every retreat is read as weakness, and every push forward becomes costly.
Nothing Is in Its Place
Pandora’s box opened on January 3, 2020. Qasem Soleimani, the commander of the Revolutionary Guards’ external operations force, was killed near the exit of Baghdad airport. In a televised speech after the event, Hassan Nasrallah, then secretary-general of Hezbollah, said he had told his “Iranian friends” not to underestimate the assassination—it would be the beginning of major events.
Nasrallah was right. He surely understood the dangers of the new situation better than the leader of the Islamic Republic did.
From January 2020 to January 2026, Khamenei has been unable to put anything back in its place—or keep it there, or preserve it. He could not keep Soleimani—architect of his security doctrine—in place. He could not “put Soleimani’s killer in their place.” He could not protect Nasrallah’s life, and he could not keep Bashar al-Assad in place. He could not preserve compulsory hijab—even through killing, repression, and executions. He could not keep the nuclear program on track. He could not keep the economy standing. He could not keep his favored president alive. He could not keep his top commanders safe. He could not preserve the taboo against an Israeli strike on Iran.
After six years of being unable to keep anything firmly “in place,” what is such a leader supposed to do when faced with nationwide protests?
The 12-Day War and the Deepening of Dependence
A detached outside observer might say the logical move would be for him to sacrifice himself to save his system: cite illness and old age, say he is exhausted, claim he has no strength left, and gradually launch a managed post-Khamenei transition.
But that prescription underestimates the reality of today’s Islamic Republic. Even that scenario has become impossible. Until June 13, 2025 (the beginning of the 12-day war) such a plan could still have been carried out—protecting the Islamic Republic from a leader whose harm had begun to outweigh his usefulness. A path could have been opened, a crack created. But it is too late now. The twelve-day war drastically increased the system’s reliance on this failed leader.
What does that mean? The shock of the twelve-day war shattered a mental barrier: the Islamic Republic is not solid; it is like a candle flame in the wind.
Crisis of Governing Capacity
The Islamic Republic’s central problem is no longer a “legitimacy crisis.” It is a crisis of governing capacity. A system that cannot decide, implement, and manage the consequences of its decisions—even if it is repressive—has entered a phase of structural decline. A regime that cannot secure people’s basic bread—can it successfully carry out a relatively large project like a managed succession after Khamenei’s death?
The replacement of the image of “having control” with the image of “they fall today or tomorrow” is not a small matter. For a dictatorship, it is a nightmare. A large portion of dictatorial authority comes from the frightening image it projects. When that image collapses, the dictatorship begins its descent.
This situation has sharply increased the dependence of the few organs inside the Islamic Republic that still function on Ali Khamenei. The current system essentially does two major things. First, with great difficulty, it sells oil through clandestine channels that circumvent sanctions, using that insufficient money to fix things here and there, and still cannot meet the needs of the majority. Second, it builds missiles, upgrades pellet guns, tightens security measures around the leader and senior commanders, and waits—either for a military strike or for nationwide protests. In both tasks, the director is the current leader. Removing the director from a project with such limited functions means the collapse of the entire system.
As a system of governance, the Islamic Republic is suffering from escalating disorder—and it has no path or horizon for exiting it. This structural dead end has blocked both foreign and domestic policy horizons.
What does it want to do? Reach an agreement with the United States? Over what, and with what leverage? Build an economic bridge with China? How? Are the Chinese or Americans even willing to enter a stable bargain? And inside the country—what does it want to do? Continue its old defiance toward the people? With what money? Intimidate society? With what terrifying image?
The Temptation to “Put People Back in Their Place”
It was precisely this total inability to change the situation that led the leader, in his speech on January 3, 2026, to call protesters “rioters” who should not be spoken to, but must be “put back in their place.”
Khamenei wants, after six years in which “nothing has been in its place,” to achieve at least one result—to put something back where it belongs. You do not need to be a dictator to know that there is no wall shorter than the people’s wall.
Putting the economy back in order, neutralizing external enemies, and escaping a dead end are not easy tasks. But “putting the people back in their place” requires a certain amount of weapons and repression equipment, a judiciary that obeys and stands ready to execute, and a force capable of absolute ruthlessness.
Khamenei has used these tools many times, and he likely considers himself an expert at “putting protesters back in their place.” But even a skilled master can make mistakes.
What mistake? When the dictator’s frightening image has already collapsed in the public mind, “putting protesters back in their place” becomes an entirely different story. Facing protesting people at a dead end is not the same as facing them at a crossroads.
A master craftsman of repression may know well how to crush people at a crossroads. But this time he must prepare himself for many surprises.
Repression in a dead-end situation is not a tool for stabilizing power—it is an accelerator of its erosion. This time, the Islamic Republic is not standing at a crossroads. It is standing at the end of the road—where even the masters of repression face unfamiliar rules.
