Tehran’s unity spectacle masks growing rift with people

In the aftermath of a 12-day war with Israel, Iranian leaders and media are celebrating an unusual show of nationwide solidarity, but some warn that this calm—marked not by rallies but by silence—may soon give way to a deeper reckoning.

On Thursday, President Massoud Pezeshkian thanked all Iranians for their restraint during the conflict, including political prisoners.

The relative moderate was, in effect, praising the absence of street protests even as the state failed to protect civilians or address their fears.

Sociologist Saeed Moidfar, chairman of the Iranian Sociological Association, countered with a stark warning: “Unless the government takes serious steps to bridge the widening gap between the system and the people, the war’s end may not bring peace—but rather a fresh social crisis.”

A nation on display

Since the ceasefire, the vocabulary of Islamic ideology has yielded to an appeal to national identity. Headlines now lead with “Iran,” pushing aside references to Islam.

Even in Supreme Leader Ali Khamenei’s latest speech, the phrase “Islamic Iran” appeared only once, with no further mention of Islam.

State-affiliated outlets echoed the shift.

Reformist dailies Etemad and Arman Melli ran front-page features lauding “national coherence” and praising public figures who promoted solidarity.

In a symbolic flourish, the Tehran Symphony Orchestra performed the patriotic anthem “O Iran” beneath the Azadi Monument.

Dozens of artists and cultural figures gave scripted interviews celebrating the country’s cultural legacy. Etemad devoted an entire front page to their portraits.

A government in debt

Calls for unity came with a growing sense that the state now owes the public something in return.

Reformist sociologist Hamid Reza Jalaipour urged the state “to reward the people after the cease-fire as a gesture to strengthen national unity.”

Even some conservatives echoed the theme.

“It is now the government’s turn to respond to the people’s resistance during the war,” former newspaper editor and pundit said—a tacit admission that officials failed to shield citizens from missile strikes.

The elephant in the room

Members of parliament have also been busy readjusting to the post-war reality—calling for changes to show they stand with the people, even as they unanimously voted to sever Iran’s cooperation with the UN nuclear watchdog to affirm their ‘revolutionary’ credentials.

“The government must overhaul both its economic and foreign policies,” national security committee member Ahmad Bakhshayesh Ardestani said, calling for urgent measures to rectify failure and improve people’s livelihoods.

Committee colleague Behnam Saeedi also urged policies that would ease economic pain and “reconcile with critics alienated from the system.”

In nearly every appeal for reform, the word “government” functions as a cautious euphemism. Almost no one dares name the real decision-maker.

Supreme Leader Ali Khamenei bears ultimate responsibility for leading Iran into this war. His directives, even implicit gestures, determine the country’s foreign, military and economic policy.

Only he can authorize a course correction—something few expect him to do.

For now, Iran’s leadership is leaning on a language of inclusion and patriotism. Whether or not it lasts, and whether it can translate into meaningful change, remains uncertain.