Mohsen Rezaei embodies the short-sighted outlook of the Pasdaran

Analysts are well aware that Iran is the graveyard of predictions, but in an article published on 23 August in The Atlantic, “Iran Unleashed”, Robert Kagan ventures to put forward a prediction that is enough to make one’s hands tremble: the advent of an unchecked Iran, an Iran which, having stood up to Israel and the United States and survived, establishes itself as the new dominant force in the Middle East – a power capable of reshaping the regional balance of power. The international community has spent years fearing a nuclear Iran – writes Kagan – but from now on it will have to worry about an even more disturbing scenario: an Iran holding the Persian Gulf to ransom and no longer afraid of America; an Iran that is wounded and vulnerable, yet all the more aggressive; an Iran instinctively more inclined towards defiance than compromise. When Kagan speaks of Iran, he means the Islamic Republic and its ruling class (the distinction between the regime and the Iranian people has not been on the agenda for months); he does not delve into the underlying dynamics, as most commentators do, but merely highlights the novelty of a stance that, for once, is as belligerent in deed as it is in word.

But people matter; they matter even more in the absence of the designated leader, Mojtaba Khamenei, and following a spate of executions that has redrawn the landscape of power; they matter all the more, in the prevailing uncertainty and disinformation, amidst a proliferation of rumours pitting doves inclined towards compromise against aggressive hawks bent on escalation; they matter because, ultimately, the scant facts we have are provided to us by them, ‘the generals’ who, in various capacities, have entered the command centre. We do not know whether Mojtaba is dead, dying or simply in hiding – perhaps in a bunker in Mashhad, beneath the ‘sacred enclosure’ – but for now the facts suggest that it is Ahmad Vahidi, Hossein Taeb, Mohammad Bagher Ghalibaf and Mohsen Rezaei who are calling the shots, and it is likely that it is precisely their alliances, rivalries, mistakes and ambitions – which both unite and divide them – that will determine, for better or worse, the course of the coming months.

Among these names, Rezaei’s is one of the most surprising, not because he is a newcomer, far from it; if there is one man who is a consummate party apparatchik, it is precisely him, having doggedly weathered every phase of the Islamic Republic, but because he is preceded by a reputation as a loser – that of the principled revolutionary, yet lacking in charisma; the one who, in the race for a seat, is neither the eternal runner-up nor the third-placed candidate, but rather the eternal fourth or fifth. His many failed attempts to become president – four in total, between 2005 and 2021 – have undoubtedly contributed to cementing this aura of mediocrity around him; a period which, incidentally, was highly favourable for a former Pasdaran, and Rezaei was the longest-serving Pasdaran commander in history. Yet his electoral record is a series of defeats, despite the launch of an interactive platform, ‘Wiki Rezaei’ (where users could submit proposals and make amendments, in the style of Wikipedia), and despite a couple of slogans that bordered on the unorthodox: ‘We will create a government of love’ (that was in 2005) and ‘We will establish an inclusive administration inspired by hope’ (that was in 2013), and despite his promise to purge Iranian institutions of spies and infiltrators (that was in 2021). Rezaei has failed time and again, whether with a smiling face or a grim one, in rigged elections (2009) and predictable elections (2021); and throughout his career as a candidate, he has been beaten by absolutely everyone – populists, pragmatists and ultra-conservatives – to the point where, from a certain point onwards, his presence on the candidate lists became a joke. “Elections without Mohsen Rezaei are like a kebab without onion,” his rivals began to sneer, whilst on Telegram the joke went round: “Find someone who loves you as much as Mohsen Rezaei loves elections.”

And even in June, when there was nothing in Tehran to smile about, his appearance in uniform on the evening news programme "Shabake Khabar" sparked a wave of laughter. There he was again, the evergreen Rezaei, with his long beard and drooping eyelids, his gaunt face looking more emaciated than ever, and a slight tremor making his fingers shake. Formally, in June he was still Mojtaba’s military adviser, but rumours were already circulating that he was set to replace Mohammad Bagher Zolghadr at the helm of the Supreme National Security Council – according to some, because of Zolghadr’s manifest incompetence; according to others, to curb Ghalibaf’s ambitions; and according to yet others because, at this moment of greatest vulnerability, the Islamic Republic’s ‘deep state’ has no choice but to rely on men of proven experience and absolute loyalty to the system – that is, the men of the first revolutionary generation, those forged by the myth of Ruhollah Khomeini rather than by the cult of Ali Khamenei. In short, Rezaei has finally made it, but only as a compromise candidate.

It is worth noting that in the early days he truly embodied the revolutionary ideal: humble, fiery and passionate. Born in the oil-rich province of Khuzestan, in a village with sweltering nights situated a couple of hours north of the provincial capital, Ahvaz, Rezaei belongs to the Bakhtiari tribe. Legend has it that his registered name was Sabzevar ("green place" in Persian) and that it was Khomeini who renamed him Mohsen. Whatever the truth may be, the places Rezaei frequented as a child were anything but green, and his childhood was just as harsh and impoverished – a childhood that had nothing in common with that of the children of American expats, or with that of the offspring of Iranian executives at the National Iranian Oil Company, so when he enrolled at the prestigious secondary school founded by the oil company, he carried with him a strong sense of vindication; his former classmates remember him as a restless boy and, indeed, whilst still a teenager, Rezaei had already joined the armed Islamist group Mansurun. In 1973, this activism earned him six months in prison, but rather than dampening his spirit of rebellion, imprisonment only strengthened it.

When the unrest that would lead to the revolution broke out in 1978, Rezaei was among the founders of one of the first pro-Khomeini guerrilla groups, a formation that would later merge into the Pasdaran Corps, and his rise to prominence at this point seemed unstoppable. In 1981, at the age of just 27, he became commander of the Sepah-e-Pasdaran, and his role during the years of the war with Iraq was pivotal. His defining moment came on 14 February 1982, inside an abandoned clubhouse on a hill, sheltered by the mountains, to the east of the Karun River. This was the headquarters of the southern front, and this was the day on which one of the most significant military operations of the Iran-Iraq War was planned. On the door of the room where the meeting took place was written: ‘The base for those awaiting martyrdom’; inside, the Pasdaran leaders were all in their twenties: Rezaei, Ali Shamkhani and Hassan Bagheri. A few days earlier, Qassem Soleimani had also been in this room, but he was not yet the ‘prince of the shadows’ he would one day become; the men of the moment were Rezaei and the others, who were drawing up plans for revenge and reconquest and convincing themselves that they were invincible. Among these fighters, Rezaei is the most hardline of all, the most determined in pursuing the dream of victory and the annihilation of Saddam even after the recapture of Khorramshahr; he is often the least realistic and, in some cases, the biggest liar. Rezaei, then, is the prophet of war at any cost; this is how historians portray him, and this is how a scornful Ali Akbar Hashemi Rafsanjani describes him in his memoirs: obtuse, sentimental and incapable of making difficult decisions.

If the Islamic Republic’s aim is to consolidate its power at the height of its deepest crisis, Rezaei might be the right man for the job; but if his role requires him to come up with something more and different – a masterstroke, a stroke of genius – the suspicion is that he would need more than mere loyalty to the cause.