Iran After Ayatollah Khamenei: Millions of Mourners, Yet the Future Remains Uncertain

The funeral of Ayatollah Ali Khamenei is not merely a ceremony of mourning, but a decisive stage for the future of the Islamic Republic of Iran. Behind the sea of mourners, the world is now waiting to see who will truly hold the reins after Khamenei. In Tehran, the black flags commemorating Ashura had not yet been taken down. Now, these cloths have become part of Ayatollah Ali Khamenei’s funeral. Across various corners of the city, billboards depicting the Battle of Karbala feature Khamenei’s face alongside Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu and US President Donald Trump. In the official narrative of the Iranian government, the two events are deliberately woven into a single story. The martyrdom of Imam Hussein at Karbala in the 7th century is said to have reached its next chapter through the death of Khamenei and his family in a 40-day war against Israel and the United States. Even before the procession began, the funeral had already become more than a ceremony of grief. The Iranian government has prepared a procession touted as the largest since the Islamic Republic was founded. If Ayatollah Ruhollah Khomeini’s funeral in 1989 lasted two days and, according to the government, was attended by around 10 million people—though other estimates put the figure at about 2.5 million—the procession for Khamenei is designed to last six days with a target of up to 20 million mourners. After lying in state for three days in a stadium-sized prayer hall in Tehran, the coffin will be taken to Qom, then pass through the holy Shia cities of Iraq, including Karbala. The journey concludes in Mashhad, his birthplace and burial site. The route was not chosen at random. Beyond its religious value, the government also wants to underscore the regional influence Iran built over more than three decades under Khamenei. The government has not hidden its ambition. This funeral is positioned as a kind of referendum on the future of the Islamic Republic. To ensure the streets are filled with mourners, various measures have been taken, including: civil servants in Tehran being given several days off; thousands of buses being deployed from various regions; hotels slashing rates by up to 50%; businesses being asked to donate rice and meat; pop singers being asked to create tribute songs; and more than 100,000 seminary students being encouraged to attend the procession. The message is simple. Khamenei’s death is intended to be read as a symbol of the regime’s resilience, not a sign of weakening power. However, the scenes on the streets do not always reflect the mood of the entire nation. A former senior Iranian official estimates that only around 2 to 5 million people remain truly loyal to the regime, out of a total population of roughly 92 million. For many other citizens, Khamenei is remembered as a leader who increasingly relied on repression to maintain power. During his leadership since 1989, he is seen as having narrowed the space for reformist groups, influenced electoral processes, and strengthened clerical dominance in the political system. When massive demonstrations erupted earlier this year with the slogan ‘Death to the dictator’, the government responded with a harsh crackdown reportedly killing thousands. Consequently, when news of his death spread, not all citizens chose to mourn. Some were reported to have left Tehran, causing outbound roads to be jammed with vehicles. Others chose to spend the day in cafes, provided the government still allowed such places to operate. ‘Without Khamenei, everything feels better,’ said a student in Mashhad. That single sentence illustrates a contrast that is difficult to conceal. The state is trying to present millions of mourners, while some of its citizens are choosing to stay away. Amid such a massive procession, the figure who should be the centre of attention is almost invisible. Mojtaba Khamenei, Ali Khamenei’s son who was hastily appointed as successor during the war, has not appeared in public since his father was killed. He did not even attend his own wife’s funeral held a few days earlier. This absence has sparked various speculations. Among regime supporters, Mojtaba has begun to be nicknamed the Occulted Imam Mahdi, referring to the messianic figure in Shia tradition. Yet, according to Islamic tradition, family members usually lead the funeral prayer. If Mojtaba again fails to appear at the main procession, the question that arises is not only about his authority as a successor, but also whether he is truly ready to lead. This doubt is compounded because Mojtaba is better known as a political figure than a cleric. To date, he has also not published the scholarly treatise typically required to be recognised as a grand ayatollah. While the heir remains unseen, the Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps (IRGC) is becoming increasingly prominent. According to Iran’s constitution, the Supreme Leader is the commander-in-chief of the armed forces. However, as the war unfolded, military operations continued without the presence of that figure, and there is no sign the IRGC has lost control. In tribute songs played ahead of the funeral, Khamenei is portrayed not only as a religious leader but also as an inspiration for the military struggle. The narrative suggests that it was Khamenei who roused their spirit to fight. This indicates a subtle shift, with the emphasis no longer solely on religious legitimacy but also on military might. The biggest question after Khamenei’s death, therefore, may not be who will replace him. What is more decisive is who will truly make the decisions. For decades, the Islamic Republic has stood on a balance between clerical authority and state power. Now, there is a possibility that this balance is shifting, with the religious leader remaining a symbol while real power consolidates elsewhere.