How Can We Read Iranian Political Society Realistically? We do so by reading what Iranians with independent tendencies have written.

When we read Tara Karangarlou’s The Heartbeat of Iran alongside other works such as Ray Takeyh’s Guardians of the Revolution, Vali Nasr’s The Shia Revival, or even Azar Nafisi’s reflections in Reading Lolita in Tehran, a complex picture of Iran emerges, one not reducible to revolutionary slogans. Iran is not just a “mullah” system, nor is it merely a repressed liberal society waiting to explode. It is a complex social fabric, whose layers move slowly and are bound by a long history of centralized state power, Persian national identity, popular religiosity, and modern revolutionary experience. From this perspective, the question of the mullahs’ rule is not primarily a political question but essentially a sociological one: is the social structure that produced this system still capable of sustaining it?

Karangarlou, who was born in the United States after her family emigrated just before the Shah’s fall, focuses on “the people,” the details of everyday life, the cafes, universities, and markets. She shows that beneath the official surface lies a young, educated, globally connected society that moves at a different pace than the ruling religious establishment. This idea finds resonance, albeit from a different angle, in Takeyh’s work, which explains how the Islamic Revolution shifted from a popular mobilization into a closed institutional system managed by complex networks of clerics, the Revolutionary Guard, and religious bureaucracy. Here the contrast between a dynamic society and a rigid state becomes clear. After four decades since the revolution, the Iranian state is no longer a revolutionary movement but an institution striving to endure.

Sociologically, there are three major transformations worth noting. The first is the demographic shift. Today, Iran is a young, largely urban society with a high level of education, especially among women. This generation did not experience the events of 1979, did not live through the eight-year war with Iraq, and does not carry the same revolutionary memory that provides symbolic legitimacy to the regime. Legitimacy here shifts from “revolutionary legitimacy” to “performance legitimacy,” meaning the state’s ability to deliver economic stability and opportunities. Whenever this capacity declines due to sanctions, mismanagement, or corruption, the regime’s legitimacy weakens in the collective consciousness.

The second transformation is the change in religiosity itself. What Karangarlou illustrates, and what other studies hint at, is that religion in Iran has not disappeared, but it no longer fully aligns with the official discourse. There is a cultural, individual, sometimes mystical form of religiosity, and there is also a deep Persian nationalist sentiment that predates the revolution and extends beyond it. This diversity in religious expression means that the religious establishment’s monopoly over the public sphere no longer reflects all forms of belief in society. Over time, as the institution loses its ability to control moral interpretation, erosion occurs from within—not necessarily through revolution, but through a slow disengagement from its discourse.

The third transformation is economic and class-based. International sanctions have weakened the economy, but they have also reshaped centers of power. The Revolutionary Guard has expanded its role in the economy, giving rise to a semi-military commercial class that benefits from the sanctions-driven economy. At the same time, the middle class—historically the main driver of modernization in Iran since the Shah—has eroded. The weakening of the middle class does not necessarily mean the collapse of the regime, but it does widen the gap between a society aspiring to a normal life and a state still operating with a siege mentality. With each cycle of protest—as seen in 2009 and in subsequent uprisings, up to January 2026—the question resurfaces: is the regime capable of absorbing the pressures, or does it merely suppress them?

Following the recent clashes, sometimes referred to as the March 2026 war, some bet on the regime’s fall. Yet they overlook an important factor: the Iranian state is not as fragile as it appears from the outside. It has an effective security apparatus, a cohesive institutional structure, and a broad network of interests linking religion, the economy, and the military. Moreover, Iranian nationalism is strong, leading large segments of the population to reject foreign intervention even if they are critical of the regime. This echoes Vali Nasr’s observation that Iran is not a purely ideological state, but a nationalist state that uses ideology as a mobilization tool. However, his observations may now be becoming outdated.

We are therefore faced with a central paradox: a society that is changing faster than its state, yet the state still retains the tools of control. In political sociology, this situation is sometimes described as “tense stability,” where the regime is not fully stable, nor is society in a constant state of revolt. Instead, there is an uneasy coexistence, and it appears that the strategy of war seeks to undermine the state’s control mechanisms through targeted assassinations.

Iranian history itself offers lessons. This is not the first time Iran has faced a gap between society and the state. The Constitutional Revolution of 1906 and the fall of the Shah in 1979 both came after long periods of social transformation that preceded political upheaval. The difference today is that the current regime has learned from its predecessors and has built protective institutions—both separate and interconnected. Therefore, the possibility of non-permanence does not mean inevitable collapse, but rather a potential transformation. The form of governance could change from within the institution itself, through a redistribution of power between clerics and the Revolutionary Guard, or by reducing the ideological role in favor of more technical administration.

Iran is not a rigid block, but a living society, as Karangarlou observes. Yet it is also a deeply rooted state, as Takeyh explains. Between this pulse and rigidity lies the key to the future. The rule of the mullahs is not an eternal fate, but it is also not a fragile structure waiting for a breeze. Its endurance depends on its ability to understand society, not its ability to silence it. And if Iranian society has proven anything over the past century, it is that change is slow—but once it matures, it does not revert.

In short, Iran today exists between the pulse of society and the rigidity of the state.

Disclaimer: The opinions expressed by the writers are their own and do not necessarily represent the views of Annahar