After panic and anger, Tehran dares to imagine life without the regime

Rana Rahimpour

After panic and anger, Tehran dares to imagine life without the regime

The failure of air defence and the scale of the Israeli strikes has done what decades of protest could not – hurt Iran’s ruling elite


It was another sweltering summer Thursday in Iran. As on many weekends, young Iranians gathered in flats and restaurants, sipping counterfeit vodka, playing music and trying to laugh, masking the dread and exhaustion of living under a regime they detest. But on the morning of 13 June, at around 3am, that fragile veil of normalcy was shattered.

Across Tehran and several other cities, thunderous blasts ripped through the dark. Some residents thought it was a storm. Within minutes they realised it was far more ominous. Israel had launched an unprecedented aerial assault, striking dozens of targets across the country in the most significant attack on Iranian soil since the Iran-Iraq war.

While the Israeli military claimed it was targeting military and nuclear facilities and senior commanders of the Revolutionary Guards, the blasts hit residential areas too. Images and videos of damaged apartment blocks and debris-strewn streets quickly flooded social media. Panic gave way to anger. For Iranians, used to repression and crisis, this was something new: direct war – loud, close and unavoidable.

By morning, Iranian state TV confirmed the death of Major General Hossein Salami, commander-in-chief of the Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps (IRGC). Soon after, more familiar names followed: Major General Mohammad Bagheri, chief of staff of the armed forces, and Brigadier General Amir Ali Hajizadeh, head of the IRGC’s Aerospace Forces.

Commander-in-chief of the IRGC, Hossein Salami, second left, and Iran's chief of general staff Mohammad Bagheri, far right, are among the Iranian military chiefs killed in the Israeli attack. Getty

Commander-in-chief of the IRGC, Hossein Salami, second left, and Iran's chief of general staff Mohammad Bagheri, far right, are among the Iranian military chiefs killed in the Israeli attack. Getty


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Many of these men had been central to Iran’s violent crackdowns on peaceful protesters over the years. For many Iranians, especially the youth and those in exile, their deaths felt like long-awaited justice. On social media, some posted cautiously celebratory messages. Others remained silent, wary of arrest, as the regime swiftly warned citizens against sharing any content about the attacks online. “But I can’t pretend I’m mourning the commanders who ordered the killing of protesters,” said Narges, a 28-year-old activist who fled Iran in 2022. “There’s a difference between war and justice.”

But outrage wasn’t limited to the Islamic Republic. Critics of Israel, including many who oppose the Iranian regime, raised concerns over civilian casualties. Official Iranian media reported that several women and children were among the dead, though precise numbers remain undisclosed. Benjamin Netanyahu’s promises of freedom from tyranny rang hollow to some, especially in the shadow of Israel’s brutal military campaigns in Gaza.

Yet for a large segment of Iranians, a different question has taken centre stage: where was the defence? Despite the country’s boasts of indigenous missile systems and Russian S-300 units, no sirens wailed, no air defences responded. Israel’s previous strikes had reportedly crippled key defence infrastructure, but the absence of any warning this time has led to widespread disbelief and speculation.

Meanwhile the attacks laid bare an open secret: the lavish lifestyles of Iran’s elite. Many of the commanders killed lived in high-rise penthouses in north Tehran – Farmanieh, Kamranieh, and towers like Jahan-e Koodak. Videos circulated showing luxury interiors, panoramic views and high-end furnishings. “We’ve been told to tighten our belts for years while they lived in glass towers,” said Amir, a university student in Karaj. “Now those towers are crumbling. It’s poetic almost.”

That night, my parents in north Tehran were also woken by an explosion. My father, disoriented, guessed it was thunder; my mother replied that it was a bomb. And with that, it felt like a new chapter had begun.

Since Friday morning, Israel’s military has said it deployed about 200 fighter jets to strike more than 100 targets across Iran, accompanied by covert Mossad operations inside Iranian territory to disable air defences and missile systems.

As AP News reports: “Israeli security officials said the Mossad smuggled weapons into Iran ahead of Friday’s strikes … [They] established a base for launching explosive drones … to target missile launchers at an Iranian base near Tehran,” working in tandem with hundreds of aircraft.

The scale is staggering. Entire lines of command appear to have been wiped out. The IRGC’s once-unshakeable dominance is wobbling. This shift is particularly significant for Iranians, who, after decades of failed protests, had come to believe that the regime’s grip could not be loosened without external force. From the 2009 Green Movement to the more recent Woman, Life, Freedom uprising, they have faced bullets, prison and silence at the hands of the regime. Now Israel’s campaign is doing what protests could not: striking at the very top.

And yet that brings its own discomfort. Foreign military intervention is rarely clean or without cost. The shadow of war looms over every street in Tehran. Shops are half-empty, parents keep children indoors and power cuts are more frequent. On the horizon, the fear of a wider regional war is real.

But beneath the fear there is a strange clarity. People are talking. About what it might mean to live without the Revolutionary Guards. About who might fill the vacuum. About whether this could be the beginning of the end. It is too early to know. But the silence that used to dominate such conversations – a silence built on fear – is beginning to break.

Photograph Meghdad Madadi/Tasnim News /AFP via Getty Images, Iranian Leader Press /Anadolu via Getty Images)


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