Iran International
President Massoud Pezeshkian’s increasingly public confrontations with Iran’s state broadcaster have exposed the limits of his authority, underscoring how one of the country’s most powerful institutions operates beyond the reach of its elected government.
The tensions erupted most visibly on Wednesday, when Pezeshkian angrily confronted the head of state television during a cabinet meeting, accusing the broadcaster of refusing to show his administration’s progress.
The exchange was being aired live before the broadcast was abruptly cut off.
During a visit to Golestan Province the following day, Pezeshkian became embroiled in a heated argument on live television with a provincial commander of the Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps (IRGC) over the military’s role in development projects.
This time, the cameras kept rolling. The commander looked directly into the lens and declared that the IRGC had fulfilled its duties—and that the government had not.
Together, the incidents offered a rare public glimpse into the president’s inability to control institutions that shape both policy and public perception in the Islamic Republic.
Moderate and reformist outlets have rallied to Pezeshkian’s defense, portraying the clash as a sign of the broadcaster’s unchecked power.
“For state TV, news is not the priority; controlling the narrative is,” read a commentary on Rouydad24. If the president’s message does not align with the broadcaster’s preferred narrative, the report said, “it will either ignore him or cut the broadcast.”
An editorial on Khabar Online added that the network’s decision to cut Pezeshkian’s speech reflected “a kind of intoxication with power” and an exaggerated sense of confidence.
“Even if the highest executive authority in the country takes a position against this broadcaster, it feels powerful enough to ignore it entirely,” the editorial said.
Clashes between Iranian presidents and state television are not new. Every president except Akbar Hashemi Rafsanjani, whose brother ran the broadcaster during much of his presidency, faced friction with the organization.
Mohammad Khatami, Mahmoud Ahmadinejad, and Hassan Rouhani all had public disputes with IRIB, the Islamic Republic’s state broadcaster. Rouhani barred a former IRIB chief from cabinet meetings, while Ahmadinejad withheld the network’s allocated budget to punish its managers.
But Pezeshkian’s confrontations come at a moment of growing public dissatisfaction and economic strain, weakening his ability to assert authority. He had promised salary increases of 21% to 43% for government employees, but with inflation running at 60%, even those raises would leave workers falling behind rising prices.
At the same time, Pezeshkian has publicly acknowledged the emotional toll of recent unrest, saying he “can hardly sleep at night” after January’s bloody crackdown. Yet his government’s inability to improve economic conditions or assert control over powerful institutions has reinforced perceptions of weakness.
What much of the media avoids stating openly is that Iran’s state broadcaster answers only to the Supreme Leader. As long as he approves of its conduct, no other authority—not even the president’s—can compel it to change course.
The result is a system in which the elected president can be openly challenged, contradicted, or even silenced by unelected institutions.
Tehran’s unveiling of a towering statue depicting the Roman Emperor Valerian kneeling before pre-Islamic Persian King Shapur I has renewed criticism of the Islamic Republic’s appeal to nationalist sentiment following the June war with Israel.
For over forty years, the theocracy purged ancient Persian history from schoolbooks, replacing it with post-Islamic narratives. But after the 12-day conflict with Israel, officials have turned to the distant pre-Islamic past to rally a divided society.
From murals of ancient kings and soldiers to patriotic songs added to Shi’ite mourning ceremonies performed before Supreme Leader Ali Khamenei, Tehran now embraces imagery once deemed heretical by its own revolutionary ethos.
'Kneel before Iran' campaign
Tehran’s Revolution (Enghelab) Square was the scene of an unusual spectacle on Friday as officials unveiled a massive bronze statue depicting Roman Emperor Valerian kneeling in submission before Sassanid King Shapur I, commemorating Iran’s victory at the Battle of Edessa (260 AD).
The event was held under the slogan “Kneel before Iran,” part of what authorities describe as a campaign to project “national unity and historical pride” following the June war with Israel.
Tehran Mayor Alireza Zakani, a staunch ultraconservative, said on X: “Enmity with Great Iran can only end in kneeling before this historic nation.”
Municipal official Davood Goodarzi said the installation would be accompanied by visual displays depicting “other victories of Iranians over foreign aggressors,” including the defeat of British forces by local commander Rais-Ali Delvari, Mirza Kuchak Khan’s resistance against Russian troops, and Surena’s triumph over Rome at the Battle of Carrhae in 53 BCE.
The goal, Goodarzi said, is “strengthening concepts such as national dignity, social unity, and Iranian identity.”
The statue, he said, would remain temporarily at Revolution Square before being moved to a city gateway “where it will stand as the first emblem of Iran before diplomats and foreign visitors.”
Unveiled women were allowed to attend the unveiling ceremony—an uncommon scene at events organized by Tehran’s ultra-hardline municipality.
The turn to the pre-Islamic past
The sharp reversal also recalls remarks once made by Khamenei. In a 2011 speech, he asserted that “all the great military victories of this nation came after Islam,” dismissing pre-Islamic accounts as “things that are not documented.”
In 1987, he had said that prophets triumphed over kings such as Cyrus and that “nothing remains of these monarchs in history but names remembered with derision.”
Nevertheless, pro-government social media accounts have now gone so far as to circulate posters equating Khamenei himself with Shapur, showing him standing with a staff as Benjamin Netanyahu and Donald Trump kneel before him. The caption reads: “You will kneel before Iran.”
'Hypocrisy'
Pro-government figures have hailed the move as a patriotic success. Conservative political reporter Hossein Saremi posted: “Today’s grand Iranian gathering showed that people and the state share one essence: Iran itself. Nothing can take our homeland away.”
Others, however, called the spectacle “hypocrisy.” Journalist Gholamhossein Pashaei wrote on X: “Every year you close Pasargadae to stop people from celebrating Cyrus Day, yet you unveil Shapur’s statue in Enghelab Square with drums and fireworks during Fatimiyya (mourning period)!”
Dissident commentator Hamid Asafi called the ceremony “a perfect snapshot of the Islamic Republic’s contradictions.”
On Telegram he wrote: “A week ago they closed Cyrus’s tomb out of fear of the crowds, and now they glorify Shapur in the same breath. The Islamic Republic fears living history but poses for selfies with its corpse.”
He added: “They know people no longer respond to rosaries and sermons. That’s why they’ve brought history back to the stage—in a controlled costume. If they can’t erase the past, they’ll try to own it.”
The irony deepened as UNESCO formally recognized Cyrus’s Charter as one of the earliest human-rights documents.
President Masoud Pezeshkian wrote on X: “Iran, the cradle of dialogue, justice, and coexistence, can still inspire peace today.”
Users swiftly replied, questioning how such pride could coexist with a government that blocks access to Cyrus’s tomb each year to those wishing to visit it on his birthday.