Here’s Why the Iranian Regime Seems Invincible
And why it shouldn’t stop the citizens currently fighting for freedom.
Over the past few decades, Iranians’ protests against the Islamic Republic have become a regular sight—bursts of defiance that light up the streets, fill the air with hope, and then fade away only to become a fire beneath ashes. Each protest seems bigger, braver, and more hopeful. Yet each time, the system endures.
Still, hope doesn’t die. You can hear it in every conversation and encrypted message coming out of Iran: people still believe change is possible.
Recent protests—ongoing since December 28—were sparked by a long-brewing economic crisis, particularly the collapsing Iranian rial and soaring inflation. They began with shopkeepers protesting in Tehran, but have since spread to a majority of provinces. Unlike earlier protest movements that were often confined to the middle class, the current round cuts across class divisions, involving people from diverse economic and ethnic backgrounds.
Yet the way the government responded has remained the same. So far, over 30 protesters are reported to have been killed, and thousands more have been arrested. Supreme Leader Ayatollah Ali Khamenei has said that “rioters should be put in their place,” and has vowed not to “yield to the enemy.”
When the wave of Iranian student protests erupted in July 1999, I was thirteen years old. I kept hearing the same phrase over and over again from adults whispering around me: “Six more months. This regime has six months left.”
I’ve heard that sentence repeated for more than two decades. And, despite the recent images rocking the country, the question remains: Why do the next six months never arrive?
It’s not that Iranians lack the will, courage, or desire for change. People have protested, sacrificed, and died. Yet no uprising has delivered lasting structural change.
Some Iranians I have spoken to inside the country hope for outside intervention. “We need help, and we’ll take it from anyone,” several have told me. For people who face the oppression machine daily, it feels impossible to change the system from within. A regime born of revolution was built to survive any revolt.
Trump’s recent threats—“If Iran shoots and violently kills peaceful protesters … the United States of America will come to their rescue”—along with the capture of Venezuelan President Nicolás Maduro by U.S. forces, have reignited hope among many desperate Iranians who are willing to endure anything if it means the end of the Islamic Republic.
But the Islamic Republic is exceptionally difficult to bring down for three main reasons: Its complicated structure of power, the leaderless nature of resistance, and the outside world’s quiet interest in maintaining the status quo.
Unlike most countries, Iran operates as a web of power with, effectively, two governments stacked on top of one another: the elected layer that handles daily administration, and the unelected layer that holds real power. At the top sits Khamenei, who controls the military, intelligence, judiciary, and media, and can block any government decision. The Supreme Leader is chosen by the Assembly of Experts—88 clerics whose candidates are pre-approved by the Guardian Council, which also vets all elections. Enforcing this system is the Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps (IRGC), a parallel military answering directly to the Supreme Leader, which is in charge of businesses, intelligence operations, and protest suppression.
The Islamic Republic is not a pyramid of power; it’s a maze. Every corridor looks like an exit until it loops back to the same center. The design isn’t accidental; it’s survival architecture.
“Everyone in Iran works for the IRGC,” a young friend told me. “When I buy booze from the black market—do you know who sells it to me? The IRGC. To stay alive here, you have to feed the dragon.”
In this closed system, even if someone kidnapped the Supreme Leader, the system itself could very well remain intact.
Another reason the system survives is fear. Over the decades, the Islamic Republic has created a class of people who benefit from the regime, and another class who enforce it. They understand that if the system collapses, they will be the first to face arrest and trial—or worse, execution—while the more powerful figures escape abroad. That’s why the closer collapse is, the harder the regime lashes out—not because it feels confident, but because it feels cornered.
So when people protest, police and militias respond violently, making mass arrests without accountability. People disappear. Courts deliver harsh punishments—prison or execution—without any due process. State media reframes events as the work of foreign enemies.
In this climate, anyone who emerges as a leader is arrested or killed quickly. But leaderless movements cannot negotiate or take power, and living under constant fear, no one is willing to step forward. Leaderless protests are brave, but fragile. They flare up and fade because there’s no safe structure to sustain them.
Lack of a charismatic figure to unite the country has created a vacuum, leaving only one visible figure: Iran’s exiled prince, Reza Pahlavi, the son of the deposed Shah. Many Iranians I’ve spoken to inside Iran consider him the only plausible option. This is evident in chants coming out of the recent protests, such as: “This is the final battle, Pahlavi will return,” and “Reza Shah, God bless your soul.” Older generations associate Pahlavi with the stability and prosperity they once knew; younger ones see him as a unifying figure.
I asked a young friend in Isfahan whether she and her friends were considering Pahlavi as a leader. “We might not like him, but do we have any alternative?” she said. “There is no organized opposition at this moment, only the possibility of building one. And building one requires parties, platforms, legitimacy, and time. Refusing to support Pahlavi means supporting the Islamic Republic.” The strongest opposition to Pahlavi, meanwhile, often comes from the diaspora, who see him as both a step backward and a potential puppet of Western interests.
It’s understandable that many Iranians find it difficult to trust outsiders or foreign countries, given the country’s history. Over the past 47 years, global powers have used Iran as leverage. Neighbors profit from instability and fluctuations in the oil market. Outside pressure rarely aims to end the system—it seeks to manage it. A weakened Iran is useful to the world; a free one is unpredictable.
An uncle told me, “They say America will come and steal our oil. Let them. The Islamic Republic is stealing our lives every day.”
He wasn’t making an argument for foreign intervention. He was expressing exhaustion. When survival becomes a daily battle, the question shifts from who is exploiting us to who is suffocating us. It becomes a hard philosophical question: Which loss feels more bearable—the loss of resources, or the loss of life itself?
Political futures are impossible to forecast. A sudden intervention, a miraculous fall, or a clean transition are all unlikely. But change is inevitable. Generational shifts—and millions of quiet refusals—create cracks. We’ve already seen this happen with decades of resistance, and with the recent Woman, Life, Freedom movement launched in 2022, when the regime quietly loosened its grip on mandatory hijab enforcement.
Toppling the regime isn’t about bravery or numbers. Nor is it simply about outside intervention. It’s about understanding the kind of system you’re fighting against.
And so I still hear it, the same phrase that followed me through childhood: “Six more months. This regime has six months left.” The timing has been wrong so far, but the spirit behind it remains unbroken.
The author of this article is an Iranian who wishes to remain anonymous.
Follow Persuasion on X, Instagram, LinkedIn, and YouTube to keep up with our latest articles, podcasts, and events, as well as updates from excellent writers across our network.
And, to receive pieces like this in your inbox and support our work, subscribe below:
Islam+political power=Iran
Christianity+political power=Ameristan