Sowing the Seeds of Change: War and Assassinations of Leaders in the Heart of Iran

On the morning of February 28, 2026, the streets of Tehran were shaken by the sound of massive explosions, and columns of smoke rose from the presidential palace and other security headquarters. This was the beginning of the comprehensive war launched by the United States and Israel against Iran, a war that was not merely a traditional military confrontation, but an attempt to reshape power and legitimacy within the Iranian Republic.

At the heart of this war were two strategic targets: Supreme Leader Ali Khamenei, the symbol of the Islamic Revolution and the symbolic power of the regime for decades, and Ali Larijani, Secretary of the Supreme National Security Council, the bridge between different political currents and the “living memory of the regime.” Their assassinations were not merely the elimination of individuals, but a direct blow to the symbolic legitimacy upon which the regime had relied since the revolution.

With Khamenei's fall in the first strike, the regime felt an internal earthquake. It was not just an administrative vacuum, but a complete shaking of the revolutionary narrative built on the symbolism of leadership. Weeks later, Ali Larijani's assassination doubled the shock: the new leadership lost the ability to invoke the symbolic capital that connected the various institutions and wings of the regime.

The absence of these symbols not only creates an administrative vacuum but also opens a gap in the symbolic legitimacy on which the regime depends. New leaders, no matter how competent, do not automatically inherit symbolic legitimacy, nor can they evoke the same internal acceptance, especially in a system that derives much of its strength from revolutionary memory and religious symbols.

In this context, the problem of balancing power centers emerges: the Iranian Revolutionary Guard Corps, the religious establishment, and the official political structure form a delicate triangle of influence. The absence of a unifying figure to maintain this balance could transform implicit coordination into overt competition, leaving the door open for an unstable redistribution of power.

This loss of a fundamental pillar for the regime opens a window for the internal opposition to mobilize itself and rebuild political bases upon which it can rely in the battle for change. This was not a coincidence, but one of the most important goals of the war: to cut off the regime's continuity and shuffle the cards within it. The new leadership will not automatically gain legitimacy, because the system is fundamentally built on Shiite religious symbolism, where historical figures and supreme leaders are revered and become the focal point of the revolutionary narrative.

This gap is not just an opportunity, but a critical time window for the opposition to reorganize itself. However, its ability to transform from merely a voice of protest into an influential force remains linked to several factors: its level of internal cohesion, the pressure of the security system, and economic conditions that form the crucial backdrop for any political transformation.

After the regime ensures its relative stability and the voice of the opposition fades, repression transforms from a temporary tool into a painful machine of oppression against the people. Initially, the use of the security grip decreases because it is only minimally needed, benefiting from the weakness of the opposition. But with the restoration of its internal influence and the reassurance of the ruling elite, it often tends to strengthen its grip on the streets, using repression more clearly and effectively to eradicate any signs of protest.

This approach, despite its temporary effectiveness, carries a dangerous paradox: every repressive step can lead to the resurgence of the opposition and ignite the spirit of resistance among citizens. Strict restrictions on expression and political movement, instead of ensuring long-term stability, can ignite hidden anger and create new forces capable of challenging the regime.

From here, we find ourselves at a sensitive stage where the United States and Israel may see that the undeclared goal of the war has been achieved. The strikes and assassinations were not merely military operations, but sowed the seeds of change within Iran: undermining symbolic legitimacy, creating a leadership vacuum, and providing an opportunity for the opposition to reorganize itself. At this stage, military escalation may cease, not because the war has ended, but because the strategic goal — destabilizing the regime and shuffling the cards within it — has already been achieved.

In the end, the Iranian regime faces a delicate equation: strengthening its grip to ensure its short-term continuity, or risking opening the door to opposition and internal conflicts in the medium term. It is a sensitive crossroads between the legitimacy of the past and the pressures of the present, between the symbolism of history and the weight of reality, where the fate of the regime is not decided by falling or remaining, but by redefining itself: what will remain of the revolutionary spirit, and what will change under the weight of events? The answer to this question will determine the shape of the next phase — a phase that may be the most precise and complex since the founding of the Republic.