Khomeini’s Fortress: Why the Regime Survived When It Shouldn’t Have

In the 7th century, following the Islamic conquest of Jerusalem in 637 CE, Caliph Umar ibn al-Khattab initiated one of the earliest examples of ideological fusion in Islamic history. By merging Islam with Arab identity, he created a powerful and cohesive framework that bound together diverse peoples, Persians, Aramaeans, Copts, Berbers, under a singular Arab-Islamic banner. Islam lent religious legitimacy to Arab imperialism, while Arabism provided Islam with a linguistic and cultural vehicle for dominance. This strategic merger shaped the socio-political architecture of the Middle East for centuries, entrenching the idea that religious and ethnic identities could be fused to assert and maintain power.

Centuries later, Ayatollah Ruhollah Khomeini would draw from a similar playbook, this time substituting Arabism with Persian nationalism. His genius lay in taking a faith with universal aspirations, Shiite Islam, and binding it to a national project: the reassertion of Persian identity and power. Khomeini did not merely lead a religious revolution; he engineered a new national identity in which Islam served nationalism and nationalism served Islam. The result was what could be called a Persian-Islamic synthesis, a new political religion that redefined what it meant to be Iranian.

Before Khomeini’s revolution, Iranian nationalism had already undergone major transformations. In the late 19th century, thinkers like Jamal al-Din al-Afghani called for a fusion of Islamic unity and local identity as a bulwark against colonial powers. This era emphasized cultural nationalism, rooted in Iran’s pre-Islamic heritage, and culminated in the 1906 Constitutional Revolution, a key moment that framed national identity in modern, secular, and parliamentary terms.

This momentum led to the rise of the Pahlavi dynasty in 1925, which pushed nationalism even further. Reza Shah emphasized Persian language, pre-Islamic history, and rapid modernization, while sidelining Islam and suppressing non-Persian ethnic identities. While well-intentioned in terms of modernization, Pahlavi nationalism came at the expense of religious and ethnic pluralism. The dynasty’s lack of royal lineage, its secular tilt, and its overreliance on authoritarian tactics left it alienated from the religious masses and key ethnic groups like the Talysh, who had traditionally played central roles in Iran’s Shiite leadership.

Khomeini’s rise in 1979 was not just a rejection of secularism, but a reengineering of the Iranian state. He fused Shiite theology with Persian pride, creating a powerful identity that could unite the fractured post-Pahlavi landscape. Though Islam is universal in doctrine, Khomeini made it local, redefining it as the soul of Iranian nationalism. This was clearest in his rejection of Arabic, even in Arab-majority provinces like Khuzestan. Agreements with Arab clerics like Sheikh Mohammad Taher al-Khaqani were discarded. Arabic was seen as a threat to Persian centralism, and religious minorities were pressured to conform. Khaqani’s death under house arrest in 1986 made it clear: Persian nationalism, not Islamic pluralism, would define the revolution’s direction. The Iran-Iraq War (1980–1988) was the crucible that solidified this identity. It allowed Khomeini to use both the language of martyrdom and patriotism.

Supreme Leader Ali Khamenei inherited this synthesis and refined it into a geopolitical doctrine. His vision of the “Axis of Resistance” presents Iran as the defender of Shiite Islam across the region. Yet behind this pan-Shiite front lies Persian dominance. Arab proxies, Hezbollah in Lebanon, the PMF in Iraq, may believe they’re fighting for Islam, but they are deeply aware of the Persian-centered power structure they serve. They tolerate it because it gives their own movements legitimacy and resources.

Inside Iran, ethnic minorities such as Kurds, Arabs, Baloch, and Azeris remain marginalized. The regime’s insistence on Persian as the official language and its curbs on cultural expression alienate vast segments of the population. Yet these same populations rallied in 2020 when Qasem Soleimani was killed by a U.S. drone strike. Soleimani was mourned not just as a devout Muslim, but as an Iranian hero. His legacy, despite being stained by regional violence, symbolized strength and sovereignty. That moment laid bare the full force of the Persian-Islamic identity Khomeini built: religion and nation fused to such a degree that even enemies of the regime found themselves drawn to its symbols.

The 2025 twelve-day war with Israel revealed deep cracks within the Islamic Republic, military setbacks, infrastructure damage, and the assassination of key IRGC leaders. Yet, no popular uprising followed. Why? Because Khomeini’s Persian-Islamic identity still exerts a powerful hold. Iranians have been conditioned to interpret external aggression as a dual offense—against their faith and their nation. Online enthusiasm for Reza Pahlavi II briefly surged, but it failed to translate into real-world mobilization. His Mazandarani heritage and the Pahlavi dynasty’s lack of royal lineage undermine his legitimacy in a society where historical and ethnic roots matter. In contrast, Supreme Leader Ali Khamenei draws strength from his Talysh background, an elite Shiite lineage that has wielded influence in Iran since the Safavid era.

This Persian-Islamic synthesis has proven far more enduring than any secular alternative, precisely because it fuses two powerful forces: divine conviction and national pride. It absorbs dissent, cloaks authoritarianism in the language of martyrdom, and commands loyalty even from those it marginalizes. And this is why the regime didn’t fall in 2025—not because it’s just, but because its identity is deeply embedded in the Iranian psyche. No opposition can succeed unless it offers a more compelling fusion—one that speaks not just to politics, but to the soul of a people who have long lived at the crossroads of empire, faith, and survival.

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