System over leader: Tehran broadcasts stability in wartime

Despite the pressure, at least seven players managed to escape and seek safety in Australia following a series of events involving planning, outside help and a moment of chaos during the AFC Asian Cup held in Gold Coast.

Their situation became dangerous after players refused to sing the Islamic Republic’s national anthem during a match against South Korea. Soon afterward, Iran's state TV labeled the young athletes “wartime traitors”—a charge that in Iran can carry the death penalty.

Raha Pourbakhsh, an Iran International sports reporter who covered the tournament from London, said the threats quickly escalated.

While the girls faced the threat of persecution back home, defection was not an easy option either.

Iranian athletes—especially members of national teams—are required to submit substantial financial guarantees to the Ministry of Sports before being allowed to travel abroad, a measure aimed at preventing defections.

These guarantees may take the form of large cash deposits or property deeds, which can be confiscated if the athlete fails to return to Iran.

“For this trip, they dramatically increased the bond to 10 billion Tomans (almost $67,000). I received info from inside the camp that their families were being directly threatened,” Pourbakhsh said.

“Some players felt like they were hostages. They were told their families' safety depended on them returning to Iran after the matches,” she said.

The players suspected they were being monitored and avoided direct communication, believing their phones were likely tapped.

According to Pourbakhsh, security officials were embedded with the team to ensure the players remained under control.

“It was a brave move; I know at least three security officers from the IRGC were embedded with the team to control them,” she said.

However, the surveillance could not stop members of the team from leaving.

Raising the alarm

Pourbakhsh said she began alerting international media outlets after Iranian state television figures publicly called for punishment against the players.

“Western media doesn't follow state TV, so I clipped that video, translated it, and sent it to reporters at CNN, Reuters, and Tracy Holmes," who is veteran broadcaster with the Australian Broadcasting Corporation (ABC).

The reporting quickly gained attention.

“Tracy Holmes interviewed the Australian Foreign Minister that same night about the threats occurring on Australian soil,” Pourbakhsh said.

As the situation escalated, Australian authorities became involved. According to Pourbakhsh, the Australian Federal Police were positioned in the team hotel lobby after concerns were raised.

Iran officials blocked from entering Australia

Iranian authorities also attempted to regain control of the situation by sending senior football officials to Australia.

According to Pourbakhsh, Mehdi Taj, president of Iran’s Football Federation and vice president of the Asian Football Confederation, sought to travel to Australia as the crisis unfolded.

Australian authorities, however, denied him a visa due to his alleged ties to the Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps.

Instead, another federation representative was sent to Australia to ensure the players returned to Iran following the tournament.

Chaos and escape

The turning point came after the team’s third match.

Confusion erupted among Iranian security handlers as several players attempted to slip away.

Video shared by activists on social media showed one Iranian security official frantically searching through the hotel stairwell while activists followed him, shouting that he was linked to the IRGC.

“You’re in Australia—you better run,” one activist can be heard shouting in the footage. “Get the F out of the country, IRGC terrorists.”

Meanwhile, several players were attempting to escape through the hotel car park.

At one point, a fire door that should have remained open was locked, creating further confusion among the handlers.

Amid the chaos, the players managed to reach safety and make contact with authorities.

Desperate scenes

Witnesses described emotional scenes as the team prepared to leave Australia.

Fans gathered outside the hotel with signs reading “Save Our Girls,” fearing the players would face punishment if forced to return to Iran.

According to witnesses, one player was dragged by her collar and shirt in an attempt to force her onto a team bus.

Others flashed SOS signals as they boarded, indicating they did not want to leave.

Before the team’s plane departed for the long journey back toward Iran, several players were seen making distress gestures toward supporters and cameras.

Pourbakhsh said many players felt compelled to return despite the danger.

Their families remained in Iran.

A new life ahead

Seven players ultimately remained in Australia and sought protection.

Their story has drawn sympathy around the world.

A GoFundMe campaign has been launched to help them rebuild their lives in Australia.

The Brisbane Roar Football Club also publicly offered support.

“Like many Australians, everyone at Brisbane Roar FC has been watching the story of the Iran women's national football team players now here in Queensland with immense admiration,” the club wrote on X.

“These are elite footballers — passionate, talented women who love the game just as deeply as we do.”

The club extended a direct invitation to the players.

“To Fatemeh, Zahra, Zahra, Atefeh, Mona, and any of your teammates building a new life here in Australia: Brisbane is home to one of the country’s most passionate football communities, and the Roar family has a big heart.

“We’d be honoured to open our doors and offer you a place to train, play, and belong.

“No politics. No conditions. Just football, community, and a warm welcome.

“Queensland is your home now.”

Supporters of the Islamic Republic have gathered in several cities to show loyalty to the new leader. The officialdom has congratulated him in unison. But Khamenei Jr is yet to appear.

There has been no speech, no televised address and very few photos or videos of the new leader. The only recording attributed to him so far is a short old video announcing that his religious classes have been canceled.

The lack of information has been so striking that even state media appears uncertain about how to present him to the public.

Older photographs have been circulated, stylized illustrations or AI-generated renderings have appeared online to fill the visual vacuum. These images are not presented as authentic photos but symbolic representations.

The situation raises a central question: what scenario may explain the unusual debut of Iran’s new Supreme Leader?

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  The ascendency of Khamenei Jr was a long-planned improvisation

Scenario one: delayed unveiling

The simplest explanation is that the Islamic Republic intends to introduce Mojtaba through a carefully managed televised address or recorded message once security conditions allow.

In this scenario, the leadership transition would be framed as orderly and unified, with Mojtaba reiterating familiar themes of resistance, continuity and cohesion under wartime pressure.

Even so, the delay itself invites scrutiny. Authorities could cite security concerns, but the absence of even a brief recorded message—particularly after the steady stream of congratulatory statements from senior officials—has raised questions about the pace and choreography of the transition.

For now, the silence has only heightened curiosity about how and when the new leader will first address the public.

Scenario two: leadership by statement

A second possibility is that Mojtaba may initially govern largely through written statements rather than public appearances. Such an approach would allow the system to project continuity while limiting exposure during a volatile security moment.

Iran’s leadership has long relied on tightly managed messaging, and written statements attributed to Mojtaba could reiterate established positions while reinforcing the central role of the Islamic Revolutionary Guards Corps, which appears to wield growing influence over wartime decision-making.

State television has already described Mojtaba as a veteran of the “Ramadan war,” part of an emerging narrative that presents him as shaped by wartime experience. Under this scenario, his absence would reflect caution rather than weakness.

Scenario three: managed vacuum

A third possibility is that Mojtaba’s continued absence reflects deeper uncertainty within the leadership itself.

The Islamic Republic is operating under sustained Israeli and US strikes, and the rapid announcement of his succession may have served primarily to prevent internal competition at a moment of acute vulnerability.

Another explanation is that Mojtaba may have been injured in the same attacks that killed his father and other senior figures—a scenario that would help explain both the speed of his appointment and his continued absence.

Naming him quickly could have forestalled rivalries among powerful factions while allowing the Revolutionary Guards and other security institutions to consolidate operational control.

In such circumstances, Mojtaba would function largely as a symbolic leader while practical authority remained concentrated within the security establishment, the Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps in particular.

Presenting an absent or wounded successor could also suppress dissent by discouraging open criticism of someone portrayed as a victim of the same war that killed the previous Supreme Leader.

Continuity and risk

Such a strategy, however, carries risks. If the leader continues to remain unseen for an extended period, public skepticism could deepen further, particularly among a population already wary of official narratives.

The lack of clarity may also reinforce uncertainty within the elite at a time when the system is under exceptional strain.

In the short term, projecting continuity appears to be the system’s priority. By naming a successor quickly, even if still absent, the establishment in Tehran may hope to signal stability to both domestic and international audiences.

Whether that image can be sustained, however, may ultimately depend on one simple question: when and if Iran’s new Supreme Leader finally appears.

The longer he remains unseen, the more his absence risks becoming a political fact in its own right—one that could deepen uncertainty at a moment when Tehran can least afford it.

Rather than confronting the official narrative head-on, many posts mocked the opaque and unusual circumstances of Mojtaba’s rise – especially the emergence of a leader who, for many Iranians, remains almost entirely unseen.

The jokes fall broadly into several recurring themes.

‘A leader no one has seen'

Many jokes focus on Mojtaba Khamenei’s near-total absence from public life.

Unlike most senior political figures, Mojtaba has rarely appeared in speeches or interviews, and only a handful of recordings of his voice are publicly known.

Some users turned this into a technological joke. One widely shared post said:

“There isn’t even enough audio of Mojtaba Khamenei for AI to train on to make a fake voice of him.”

Others simply pointed to the unusual situation more directly.

“We are entering the second day of Mojtaba Khamenei's leadership, and still nobody has seen him.”

Several posts framed the absence through humor about remote work – a concept familiar to many younger Iranian users.

“If you like working remotely, the best job is Supreme Leader of the Islamic Republic. Nobody asks where you are, what you’re doing, or even whether you’re alive.”

Another post used religious imagery to exaggerate the idea that he has remained invisible.

“We’re in a situation where the appearance of Mahdi is more likely than the appearance of Mojtaba.”

Mahdi – the messianic figure awaited in Shiite Islam – frequently appears in Iranian satire as a way of describing events considered extremely unlikely.

Another viral joke suggested Mojtaba’s leadership was almost abstract.

“In the phrase ‘Mojtaba’s leadership,’ the literary device being used is personification.”

The remark plays on a Persian rhetorical term used in literature classes, implying that leadership is being attributed to something that has not visibly acted.

'The only known quote'

Another recurring joke centers on how little Mojtaba Khamenei has publicly said.

One of the few widely circulated videos attributed to him shows him announcing that his religious classes would be canceled.

That short clip has now become a punchline.

One post summarized the situation: “The only existing quote from Imam Mojtaba Khamenei: ‘Next week there will be no class.’”

The post was accompanied by a parody image styled like the decorative wall murals commonly seen on schools and public buildings in Iran, where passages from religious figures and political leaders are often painted alongside floral designs.

In the satirical version circulating online, however, the wall bears only the mundane line about next week’s class being canceled – recasting an ordinary notice as the supposedly defining quotation of a newly appointed Supreme Leader.

Other jokes focused on Mojtaba’s lack of a public résumé. One post mocked the situation using corporate language:

“You don’t have a résumé, you want to work remotely, you got the job through connections – and you don’t even have a photo for your CV so they have to generate one with AI.”

Another user suggested that even performing a simple task could count as experience.

“At least bury your father so you can have one executive job on your résumé.”

‘Schrödinger’s Khamenei’

A darker strand of satire reflects the uncertainty and speculation that often accompany major political events in Iran.

Some jokes played with the idea that Mojtaba’s status remains ambiguous because he has not appeared publicly.

One widely shared post referenced the famous physics thought experiment known as Schrödinger’s cat:

“I think instead of Schrödinger’s cat we’re dealing with Schrödinger’s Khamenei. Until they show him, we don’t know whether he’s alive or dead.”

Some posts jokingly suggested that naming Mojtaba as leader could solve several political problems at once.

“Announcing Mojtaba as leader was actually smart. You can’t kill someone who’s already dead.”

Another post used similarly blunt humor:

“You know what’s better than one dead Khamenei? Two dead Khameneis.”

Other jokes focused on the strange overlap between the funeral of the late leader and the introduction of the new one. One user wrote sarcastically:

“Right now the Islamic Republic has two leaders on earth – one they won’t bury and another they won’t reveal.”

Even the burial itself became a subject of dark humor.

“The only reason they haven’t buried Khamenei yet is to save funeral costs – they’re waiting a few days to bury Mojtaba too.”

Inside Iran, political figures who disappeared from public view after the February 28 strike are gradually re-emerging through statements congratulating him on his elevation to leadership.

Among them are Mohammad Mohammadi Golpayegani, the former leader’s chief of staff, and Asghar Mirhejazi, his powerful security chief, who issued a rare joint message despite earlier reports that Mirhejazi had been killed in the attack.

Former President Mahmoud Ahmadinejad, also rumored to have died in a strike on his home, released a similar message.

These congratulatory notes appeared during one of the most solemn Shiite mourning periods, commemorating Imam Ali. At the same time, part of the country is mourning the former leader, while Mojtaba himself is grieving the loss of close family members.

State officials, including President Masoud Pezeshkian, Majles Speaker Mohammad Bagher Ghalibaf and security chief Ali Larijani, have recently appeared in simple, Zelensky-style military uniforms without insignia. All three have pledged allegiance to Mojtaba.

Social media has filled with dark humor about Ali Khamenei’s death and Mojtaba’s life expectancy.

More serious posts include the resurfacing of an old video circulated widely on X, reportedly with IRGC encouragement, in which reformist politician Faezeh Hashemi says she would prefer Mojtaba to the “fanatic elderly candidates” for leadership. Like others, she suggested he might introduce reforms.

Mojtaba’s record since 2005, however—particularly during elections and protest crackdowns—offers little evidence of reformist tendencies. Many analysts warn that Iran may become even more radicalized under his rule, noting his long-standing ties to vigilante groups involved in suppressing dissent.

Debate over hereditary succession has intensified. Critics argue that dynastic leadership contradicts the Islamic Republic’s founding principles. Others counter that hereditary succession mirrors the lineage of the Twelve Imams.

Members of the first group note that Khomeini’s son Ahmad was never allowed to inherit power—an argument echoed implicitly by some of Khomeini’s descendants, including his great-grandson Ali, on X.

Former IRGC commander Mohsen Rezaei and former state TV chief and tourism minister Ezzatollah Zarghami have both said they have been close friends of Mojtaba for years, describing him as “modest” and “simple.”

Rezaei, who appeared frequently on state television after Khamenei’s death, has promised to share more about Mojtaba in the coming days.

State TV’s IRINN channel has twice acknowledged that Mojtaba’s leadership faced serious resistance within the Assembly of Experts. In an unusual live broadcast comment, one analyst even suggested opposition to Mojtaba might emerge from within his own support base.

Some media outlets, including Khabar Online, cautiously suggested this week that Mojtaba’s rise could signal a more prolonged and unpredictable phase of conflict, reflecting broader uncertainty inside Iran’s political establishment over the direction his leadership may take.

According to the internet monitoring group NetBlocks, ordinary users’ access to the global internet inside Iran remains at roughly one percent, effectively isolating most citizens from international platforms.

The blackout — the third nationwide shutdown since the 12-day war in June — has severely limited the flow of information and made it nearly impossible for citizens to receive warnings about potential attacks or communicate with relatives.

Many Iranians who manage intermittent access through virtual private networks (VPNs) say the wartime blackout has deepened anxiety and isolation.

Several users have described the shutdown as comparable to a war crime because it disrupts civilian communication and limits access to critical information during attacks.

‘War crime’

One user wrote on X: “If a government deliberately cuts communications while providing no warning or protection mechanisms for civilians, and this leads to widespread harm, it could be examined as a serious violation of international obligations and in some circumstances even a war crime.”

Critics say authorities have not introduced any nationwide warning system to protect civilians from airstrikes. One user wrote that what they expected from government SMS alerts was “to tell me to take shelter because they’re bombing the street next to me—not to report the price of oil.”

Iranian newspaper Shargh highlighted the psychological toll in an article titled “The Sound of Bombs, the Silence of the Internet: The Iranian Psyche in Crisis.”

The paper wrote: “Restrictions on internet access and the circulation of incomplete information have made the true picture of the crisis more complex. Every rumor, every partial analysis and every tense environment erodes the collective psyche and intensifies the sense of insecurity.”

“When people face only the sound of fighter jets in silence and with limited information, the psychological impact of this crisis can be as significant as the physical destruction,” the article added.

Privileged access

Beyond the immediate risks, the shutdown has also inflicted economic damage, forcing many online businesses, freelancers and digital services to halt operations.

Heavy signal jamming has also made Persian-language satellite television channels difficult or impossible to receive in many areas. Without access to often costly VPNs, which only a minority can afford, state television has effectively become the primary source of information for many Iranians during wartime.

Government institutions and state-affiliated media have been sending mass text messages warning that those who access international internet services could face legal consequences, while also distributing official narratives and government-approved news.

Despite the restrictions on the general population, critics say some government figures—including Mohammad Marandi, who continues posting online and giving interviews to international media—retain unrestricted access.

Diaspora activist Azadeh Davachi wrote: “They cut the internet for the people while they themselves sit online tweeting and threatening the public. If you really care about the people, at least restore the internet.”

Calls for help

For millions of Iranians abroad, the blackout has meant losing nearly all contact with relatives inside the country. Many say they have had no news from family members since the war began.

International phone calls are also heavily restricted, often working only from inside Iran to outside and frequently dropping in less than a minute.

For diaspora communities already anxiously following the conflict, the prolonged silence has only deepened fears for loved ones inside Iran.

The prolonged shutdown has prompted calls from activists abroad for emergency connectivity solutions. Some diaspora campaigners have launched an online appeal using the hashtag DirectToCellForIran, urging Elon Musk to activate Starlink’s Direct-to-Cell service so mobile phones could connect directly to satellite internet.

One activist wrote: “We urge you to activate Starlink Direct-to-Cell in Iran, even on a trial or testing basis. This could be a vital solution for internet connectivity.”