From ‘Islamic Republic’ to ‘Iran’: Why the regime’s propagation of Iranian identity is just a strategic adjustment

The 12-day war between Iran and Israel last June marked a consequential flashpoint for the geopolitics of the Middle East. Like most major events, its larger consequences will become clear over the longer term. Yet, it has already prompted a rethinking of various security and nuclear policy assumptions where regional players need to reassess deterrence, proxy war, and even the nature and durability of their alliances.

The Iranian revolutionary regime finds itself in its most vulnerable position since 1979, despite claiming victory after the ceasefire. From a regional and geopolitical standpoint, all its proxies, including Hezbollah, abandoned Iran in its most existential moment. Support from global allies, such as China and Russia, or even fellow Islamic states, was virtually absent, aside from the usual diplomatic platitudes. Only marginal solidarity was shown by the Muslim Brotherhood, highlighting Iran's vulnerability externally. However, for Iran, the war has also meant consequential internal shifts.

In his first speech after the ceasefire, the Supreme Leader Ali Khamenei spoke of national unity and resilience. Yet, what stood out was his insistence on nationalism and patriotism. This may not appear remarkable in other cases, but it was significant in the case of Iran, where ideology and religion often prevail over national and nationalist ideals. As one observer noted, Khamenei’s speech used the word “Iran” over three dozen times while the word “nation” was used two dozen times. Conspicuously absent was the word “Islam.” Meanwhile, the only usage of the word “Islamic” was in reference to the country’s formal name, i.e., the Islamic Republic of Iran.

Similarly, a few days later, nationalism and patriotism were at the centre of the Ashura events, which commemorate the martyrdom of Hussein during the Battle of Karbala. Moreover, the funeral processions of military officials and scientists killed during the war overwhelmingly displayed nationalist symbols and imagery. Even though Khamenei skipped the funerals, his first public appearance since the war came on the eve of Ashura (the tenth day of Muharram). The Ashura events traditionally involve religious songs, but in an unconventional break from the past, Khamenei called up Mahmoud Karimi, a popular eulogist seen during such events, to request a recital of the patriotic anthem “Ey Iran” (O Iran). This decades-old anthem is full of Persian nationalist evocations and has been previously used by the regime at critical moments. A good example was in December 2022, during the height of Hijab protests after the death of Zhina (Persianized as Mahsa) Amini, a regime-sponsored performance of the anthem took place in Azadi Square in Tehran.

Such gestures may appear as a radical shift now, but the invocation of these symbols or reference to Iran’s pre-Islamic history has been a steady development. In recent years, they have represented a part of the broader and deliberate signalling by the regime to indicate and consolidate public support around national and Persian symbols. Historically, the Islamic Republic has had an uneasy relationship with its pre-Islamic past. The founder of the Republic, Ruhollah Khomeini, notably avoided glorifying the country’s monarchical past. Although he occasionally referenced pre-Islamic Iran, he cautiously avoided lionizing famous rulers, such as Cyrus or Darius. As his successor, Khamenei initially followed in his footsteps; however, since the early 2000s, a notable shift has emerged, in which Khamenei and senior officials have increasingly begun using figures from pre-Islamic heritage in their speeches.

Another striking example that emerged after the war was a billboard in Shiraz that depicted Sassanid King Shapur I, mounted on horseback, as he accepted the surrender of Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu, who was depicted in a kneeling position. This symbolism harked back to Shapur’s famous victory at the Battle of Edessa, where he defeated and captured the Roman Emperor Valerian in 260 CE. These patriotic celebrations of military prowess underscore the need to maintain internal unity and control by drawing on more familiar national, historical, and even pre-Islamic icons.

Besides such nationalistic discourse, the regime has also sought to project internal cohesion by illustrating unity across ethnic and cultural divides. In the days after the ceasefire, the state media widely circulated the featured images of Jewish soldiers in the Iranian military attending a briefing. While at another occasion, scenes depicted Iran’s Jewish community praying in synagogues to support Khamenei and the armed forces. The message was intended to show that Iran remained unified across ethnic and religious lines.

However, the projection holds glaring contradictions. The military service in Iran, be it Artesh (regular military) or IRGC, requires an individual to follow Islam and remain committed to Islamic ideals. The religious minorities can and do serve in the military as part of their mandatory military service. However, they cannot become career military officers once their obligations end. And hence, the depiction of Jewish soldiers in the army does not illustrate inclusivity but displays a rebranding of the dhimmi status of Jews in Iran, whose population since 1979 has consistently declined from around 100,000 to roughly 9,000 in recent years.

In the aftermath of the war, the Israeli army chief noted, “When dawn breaks, Israel must be ready to fight alone.” Despite all proxy alliances, the isolation of Iran during the war may have led Khamenei to the same conclusion that, despite the plethora of “moral” support, Iran also stands alone when it comes to fighting its battles. Therefore, as much as regime survival from outside is critical, internal survival is equally, if not more, crucial for the regime.

The entire discourse and discussions about the regime leaning towards nationalist and Persian identity, though critical, should not be misinterpreted as a wholesome ideological departure. The adoption of these nationalistic symbols, images, and historical narratives has occurred in parallel with existing Islamic frameworks, rather than as a replacement. In the same weeks that one sees Iranian identity as pronounced in the discourse, parallelly, the close associates of Khamenei, like Ahmad Khatami, Naser Makarem Shirazi, and other senior clerics, have been issuing fatwas to assassinate Trump, labelling him as Mohareb (enemy of Allah). Others have insisted on revising the fatwa on nuclear weapons. Therefore, from the regime’s perspective, if the push for Iranian identity and nationalism serves as a bulwark against internal dissent and helps the regime consolidate its position, the shift from ‘Islamic’ to ‘Iranian’ should be best understood as a strategic adjustment, not a doctrinal change.

 

The author teaches at the Centre for Political Studies, Jawaharlal Nehru University, New Delhi.

Middle East