Tragicomedy of Iranian Politics: An Opposition Without a Position
As many students at the University of Tehran risk their lives protesting the regime after one of their own was allegedly murdered by security agents, and as the drought-stricken people of Dehdasht struggle for survival—many of them arrested for daring to demand basic rights—a devoted band of royalist cheerleaders has apparently concluded that the real priority is declaring Reza Pahlavi the "leader of the revolution." Because, of course, nothing screams "revolutionary leadership" like watching from afar while others do the bleeding.
Ten days ago I wrote about Iran’s former crown prince and his ever-loyal entourage of sycophants working overtime, tirelessly lobbying and begging for a shred of legitimacy from the organizers of the Munich Security Conference. They triumphantly declared that he had an invitation—because, as we all know, if you say something enough times, it must be true. And yet, in an utterly unbelievable twist of fate, this towering statesman of global importance found himself hosting a glorified fan meet-up in one of Munich’s many vacant spaces. Meanwhile, actual world leaders were busy discussing trivial matters like the fate of Ukraine and Europe.
To make matters worse, anything he said in Munich seemed to backfire spectacularly. His attempts at delivering grand statements were met with more ridicule than reverence, and even his struggle to open a simple bottle of water became an instant meme—perhaps the most accurate metaphor for his political aspirations yet.
Inside this exclusive echo chamber, the prince’s hand-picked devotees—who, with their unhinged enthusiasm, could have easily been mistaken for a group of tipsy Halloween partygoers—dutifully spent their time hurling insults at his critics. Because, naturally, anyone who dares question his divine right to rule must be an agent of darkness, corruption, or worse—someone who simply doesn’t believe in fairy tales.
But wait, the prince’s transformation is still a work in progress! Lately, he has taken his self-mythologizing to breathtaking new levels, anointing himself as the reincarnation of Mahatma Gandhi—a radiant beacon of patience, wisdom, and, most importantly, humility. His latest saintly decree? Benevolently instructing his followers to stop calling him King Reza Pahlavi. Such self-restraint! Such modernity! And, in a move that will surely earn him a Nobel Prize in irony, he has demanded that his supporters practice kindness, avoid character assassination, and—brace yourselves—respect those who dare criticize him or, worse, fail to genuflect before the new Gandhi-in-the-making.
A friend pointed out, however, that the only real resemblance here is Gandhi’s minimalist dress code—because, much like the Mahatma’s simple loincloth, the prince’s logic appears to be wrapped in something strikingly similar to diapers. And let’s be honest, at this stage, the only thing more premature than his political aspirations is his grasp on reality.
Naturally, his followers, those ever-astute philosophers of our time, absorbed this divine wisdom with the same intellectual prowess as pre-evolutionary organisms attempting to crack quantum mechanics. One can only wish Orwell were alive to witness this masterclass in political absurdity—he might have tossed Animal Farm aside and penned Pahlavi’s Playground instead, featuring a self-appointed savior surrounded by an army of overzealous parrots squawking in unison.
And, as many of us expected, it didn’t even take 24 hours for his zealous followers to erupt in a symphony of outrage, hurling insults at anyone who dares not acknowledge the undeniable greatness of a giant—one who, ironically, struggles to cast a shadow larger than a mouse.
The Opposition That Isn’t
But enough about the self-absorbed prince and his battalion of deranged sycophants. What about the other players in this never-ending political tragicomedy? Well, actually… nothing. The Islamic regime, in its almost artistic ability to manipulate and divide, has managed to fragment the opposition so spectacularly that, mathematically speaking, the total sum of Iranian exile opposition figures now sits comfortably at less than zero. A true masterpiece in subtraction.
The old-school leftists remain trapped in their own endless ideological navel-gazing, forever arguing over revolutionary purity tests. The MEK—arguably the most organized opposition group—still carries the delightful distinction of having cozied up to Saddam Hussein in the 1980s, ensuring that most Iranians will never forgive them, no matter how many rebrands they attempt. Meanwhile, the so-called reformists have long been exposed as nothing more than condom-wrapped Islamists, desperately trying to make the theocratic dictatorship palatable while pretending they’re different from the hardliners.
Meanwhile, countless Iranians across Europe and North America are successfully running major businesses, excelling in academia, and even holding seats in legislatures in Norway, Sweden, Germany, and Canada. And yet, the smartest among them have adopted a remarkably effective survival strategy: staying as far away from the clown show of Iranian opposition politics as humanly possible. Who could blame them?
No Plan, No Problem!
And then there’s the biggest issue of all—there are no grand plans to govern Iran if the Islamic Republic collapses. Not that it will just magically fall on its own—miracles, sadly, seem to have retired early.
The Opposition’s Non-Position is a cause of frustration, and many just want something—anything—to replace the ayatollahs, without stopping to consider how dangerous the prince’s entourage can be. After all, swapping one form of blind loyalty for another doesn’t exactly scream progress. But who needs critical thinking when you can trade one authoritarian fantasy for a shinier, nostalgia-laced version with a royal seal?
But let’s imagine for a second that someone did come up with a viable, structured plan for post-regime governance. Would this be welcomed? Would exiled opposition figures finally rally behind an actual roadmap for Iran’s future?
Of course not! Any group that dares to present a real plan will be met with vicious attacks. Why? Because the prince’s ever-loyal advisory circle cannot afford for anyone—anyone—to be seen as a legitimate alternative. Their entire narrative hinges on one simple, unshakable belief: that the only solution for Iran is none other than the prince himself. It doesn’t matter if his grand strategy boils down to wishful thinking and royal nostalgia; in their eyes, no roadmap, no coalition, no expert proposal could ever rival the sheer brilliance of waiting for the people to spontaneously rise up and beg for their monarch to return.
And so, the tragicomedy continues.