As Society Nears Breaking Point, the Politics of Fear Returns—Once Again
At a moment when Iranian society is strained to the brink by structural poverty, organized repression, economic collapse, and political deadlock, the so-called reformist faction has once again stepped forward with a familiar face and a worn-out prescription. Former regime president Mohammad Khatami is again promoting the long-discredited notion of “reform from within the system,” warning ominously that Iran itself will be destroyed if the current order collapses. The central question is unavoidable: is this concern truly about Iran’s fate, or about the survival of the regime?
These claims have been repeated so often over the years that they no longer even function as propaganda. A society that has lived through repeated failures of reform no longer hears these warnings as compassion or foresight, but as a desperate attempt to rescue a regime standing at the edge of collapse. The reality is that the regime’s supreme leader Ali Khamenei and the power structure under his control face a multidimensional crisis, and such rhetorical maneuvers are neither capable of resolving it nor of intimidating a population that has already crossed the threshold of fear.
Historically, these alarmist narratives have always surfaced when the danger of mass uprising became real. From Khatami to Rouhani and beyond, figures associated with this faction have repeatedly warned of “the collapse of Iran,” “disintegration,” and “chaos.” The objective has never been subtle: to manufacture psychological fear and prevent revolutionary movement within society. It is the language of weakness, not confidence.
The truth was stated with unusual honesty by one of the reformist camp’s own figures, Sadegh Zibakalam, when he openly admitted: “If this system falls, we will be ruined.” That sentence encapsulates the reformist position in its entirety. What they fear is not the disintegration of Iran, but the loss of their own status, protection, and relevance within the existing order.
Recent experience further exposes the hollowness of their claims. During the twelve-day war, Iranian society simultaneously rejected the regime as a whole while also refusing foreign military intervention, maintaining national cohesion under extreme pressure. Claims that regime change would lead to Iran’s fragmentation are therefore less a reflection of reality than a psychological weapon wielded by the ruling structure. In fact, it is the regime itself that has systematically sown social, ethnic, and class divisions—a strategy that has repeatedly failed. The fall of this system would not result in disintegration, but would instead create the conditions for nationwide unity through a transformative popular revolution.
The futility of “reform from within” is not a theoretical argument; it is the accumulated result of decades of lived experience. If this system possessed even minimal capacity for reform, tangible evidence would have appeared long ago. Instead, what the Iranian people have consistently encountered is the continuity of repression, poverty, and injustice.
Pseudo-reformists imposed heavy costs on society through hollow promises, while in practice extending the lifespan of the regime. Even recent admissions from within this camp confirm this reality. In one public debate, a reformist figure acknowledged that people now resent reformists more than hardliners, precisely because reformists recycle the system through deceptive promises and managed hope.
Khatami is fully aware of this widespread public hostility. He knows that the slogan “Reformist, hardliner—the game is over” is not rhetorical excess, but the distilled outcome of historical experience. Yet he persists, as he always has, in claiming that the majority of society still prefers reform—an assertion that social reality has long since invalidated.
A review of governments that came to power under labels such as reform, moderation, or engagement clearly demonstrates the dead end of this path. Rafsanjani’s era of so-called “economic adjustment” deepened class divides, expanded poverty, and generated enormous wealth for a narrow elite, while simultaneously intensifying the security state and exporting state-sponsored terror. Khatami’s presidency, despite unprecedented international support, ultimately paved the way for Ahmadinejad and the further consolidation of absolute clerical dictatorship. Had reform under Khatami contained any genuine transformative capacity, Ahmadinejad would never have emerged.
Rouhani’s government, branded as “moderation,” followed the same trajectory. Under his presidency, some of the largest popular uprisings were brutally suppressed, demonstrating once again that the difference between factions was cosmetic, not structural. With Raisi’s ascent, the regime’s naked brutality became impossible to conceal, completing a familiar cycle: personnel change without any alteration in the nature of power.
Today, Khatami attempts to distance himself through vague criticisms and indirect reproaches of Khamenei, attributing the failure of reform to deviations from “republicanism.” But these arguments are exhausted and unconvincing. Public memory has not faded.
The Reform Front’s support for Pezeshkian in the most recent staged election was yet another iteration of the same political theater. Their claims of supporting him without seeking power quickly collapsed once they encountered the rigid limits imposed by the Supreme Leader and received no share of authority. What followed—attacks on ministers, criticism of foreign policy, and calculated distancing—was rooted not in principle, but in frustration over denied access to power.
This pattern is entirely familiar. In moments of existential threat, all regime factions close ranks behind the Supreme Leader and participate in suppressing society. Their internal disputes are not signs of pluralism, but symptoms of a system-wide impasse.
There is no fundamental difference between the pseudo-reformists and Khamenei’s inner circle. Wherever power and wealth are at stake, they have consistently demonstrated their willingness to preserve the system. For them, maintaining the regime means preserving personal security, privilege, and relevance. They understand clearly that in a post-regime Iran, they would have no place.
Opposing them stands a genuine, organized, regime-change force that rejects any accommodation with clerical rule and works continuously for its overthrow. The reformists’ function is precisely to neutralize this force—through quasi-democratic performances meant to normalize the regime and buy time.
Despite acknowledging widespread public discontent, all factions of the regime continue to warn society against revolution and uprising. Yet successive revolts and the persistence of social resistance demonstrate the failure of this narrative. When even the most basic freedoms are denied, revolution becomes not a choice, but the only remaining option.
This trajectory began in 1981, was delayed—but never abandoned—by the reformist diversion, and has now returned to the center of social consciousness. The only viable solution to Iran’s current crisis is the complete overthrow of this fascistic system—a solution that, given the objective conditions of society, is no longer distant.
In authoritarian systems, the presence of ostensibly reformist factions is often essential to prolong dictatorship. Iran’s experience shows that this mechanism has lost its effectiveness. Society has moved beyond reform. The future is no longer sought within the system, but in freedom—freedom made attainable through an organized resistance recognized as a democratic alternative, capable of establishing liberty and democracy in Iran and bringing the usurpers of the people’s rights and the killers of Iran’s children to justice.
