IRAN
With Khamenei dead and strikes entering a third day, the Islamic Republic is shaken but intact. Its fate now rests on a contested hardline succession – and on whether popular unrest takes hold.
AS US and Israeli strikes continue for a third day and Iran reels from the killing of Supreme Leader Ali Khamenei, the Islamic Republic is confronting the most profound leadership crisis in its modern history.
Yet, despite the decapitation of the man who sat at the apex of Iran’s clerical, military and political system, the regime is not in immediate collapse.
“I don’t think it’s guaranteed to be in its death throes,” says Middle East analyst Megan Sutcliffe. “The wheels have not come off just yet.”
The scale of the decapitation campaign has only deepened. Iranian state television reported that the country’s armed forces chief of staff, Abdolrahim Mousavi, was killed in the strikes.
Khamenei’s death has removed the single most powerful figure in Iran’s post-revolutionary order. For more than three decades he arbitrated between clerical factions, commanded the loyalty of the Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps and defined the ideological direction of the state.
The commander of the Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps, Gen Mohammad Pakpour, and defence minister Aziz Nasirzadeh were also reported killed, according to sources familiar with the matter.
Together with Khamenei’s death, the removal of so many senior figures represents an unprecedented blow to the upper tier of Iran’s military and political leadership.
His sudden removal under sustained external attack has forced succession from long-managed inevitability into abrupt reality.
In the hours that followed, an interim leadership council assumed authority and the Assembly of Experts reconvened to guide the transition. Senior military posts vacated in the first wave of strikes – including the armed forces chief of staff and the commander-in-chief of the IRGC – have already been filled, suggesting that core command structures remain intact.
Retaliatory patterns have followed established operational cycles, with ballistic exchanges intensifying after nightfall.
The question now is not whether the regime has been shaken – it has – but whether pressure from outside can trigger rupture within.
In Washington, President Trump has spoken of creating “the conditions” for regime change, raising speculation that the United States might adjust the tempo of strikes to allow space for unrest to gather.
Lewis Galvin, Chief Americas Analyst, says the White House appears to be operating flexibly rather than following a defined blueprint.
“If there’s an emerging protest movement brewing through the usual channels, I think he will facilitate it,” Galvin says.
“But if there’s no suggestion of protests being formed or carrying weight, I don’t think it becomes a factor.”
Trump, he argues, is acting in what he calls “opportunity territory”.
“He doesn’t have a plan for regime change, but he openly said he wants to create the conditions. If protests start brewing, I think he’ll try and stoke the flame.”
Sutcliffe is more sceptical about how quickly that moment might arrive. Iranian cities have faced repeated bombardment, and civilian infrastructure has been damaged.
But protest movements in Iran have historically been driven by economic grievance and domestic political anger rather than foreign strikes.
“At the moment, prospects for anti-government protests are pretty low,” Sutcliffe says. “While airstrikes are ongoing and there are acute security concerns, people are far more likely to stay home than mobilise.”
She adds that the calculus could shift only if the military tempo changes.
“If airstrikes cease and infrastructure damage triggers shortages and further economic deterioration, that’s when we could see conditions that are more conducive to protest,” she says.
“But at the moment, we’re not there.”
For Gulf governments, the stakes extend far beyond Tehran’s internal politics.
Regional capitals have long feared that direct confrontation could produce something worse than managed hostility: state fragmentation.
A fractured Iran on the edge of the Strait of Hormuz – one of the world’s most critical energy corridors – would present a systemic shock to global markets and regional stability.
The concern in the Gulf is not simply escalation, but implosion.
And that risk lies in the succession process itself.
Several clerical figures are reportedly being discussed as potential successors.
Crucially, all are hardline candidates rooted in Iran’s principlist establishment, with longstanding hostility toward the United States and deep ties to the clerical and security elite.
There are no obvious moderates waiting in the wings.
Any transition is therefore more likely to represent continuity of doctrine than ideological transformation.
That does not mean it will be smooth.
“The longer that transition takes, the more challenging it’s going to be to maintain rigid command and control,” Sutcliffe says.
Iran’s system is built not only on institutions but on ideology — specifically the doctrine of the guardianship of the jurist.
That ideological cohesion has historically discouraged elite defection, particularly within the Revolutionary Guards. Yet succession is also deeply factional, shaped by patronage networks, clerical seniority and competing centres of influence within the security establishment.
If rivalry between hardline contenders becomes prolonged or bitter, the danger shifts from popular uprising to elite fracture. Commanders uncertain about political backing could begin acting more autonomously. Patronage blocs may compete for leverage. Central authority could erode from within rather than collapse from below.
That is the inflection point analysts are watching.
“If the succession turns into a prolonged factional struggle,” says Sutcliffe, “that’s when the stability of the Islamic Republic is truly at risk.”