More than two weeks have passed since the latest wave of unrest in Iran began. With the internet cut, news arrives in fragments. Some reports now put the death toll in the thousands, with even more arrested and facing harsh sentences, if not execution. From the few channels open, often through still-functioning Starlink connections, the question remains: What comes next?
The problem on the Iranian street is not a shortage of bravery, but rather, the absence of a unified opposition, one that serves the public interest and offers a credible path out of theocracy and the Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps’ militarized dominance to democratize Iran, rather than simply liberalize the country.
The problem on the Iranian street is not a shortage of bravery, but rather, the absence of a unified opposition.
The opposition has failed the most basic test of readiness: It has not been able to establish a credible government-in-exile, an interim structure capable of practicing governance, enforcing internal discipline, and modeling cooperation. Without a functioning prototype—clear roles, decision-making rules, accountability, and the ability to work under pressure—the “day after” remains a slogan, not a plan.
After the 2015 nuclear deal, many Iranians expected economic improvement and some social relief. Instead, disappointment compounded. The opposition has failed to turn that frustration into capacity. Much of the failure is cultural. Many Iranians still wait for an alternative to appear out of thin air. Real change requires organization, discipline, risk management, and accountability. When those are missing, branding takes over. It is easier to chant a name than to build real institutions.
That is why the leadership problem is unavoidable. Self-proclaimed opposition leaders often struggle to operate democratically when it requires compromise and shared decision-making. After the Woman, Life, Freedom uprising, several prominent figures attempted a coalition to signal unity. It did not last. Cooperation collapsed under ego, mistrust, and a refusal to accept limits.
Credibility is also about delivery. After many promises produced little measurable impact, former Crown Prince Reza Pahlavi’s camp promoted a QR-code channel to recruit regime insiders. In July 2025, he claimed 50,000 regime and military insiders had joined his “National Cooperation” campaign. When critics asked for evidence; his organization responded with online intimidation and polemics. To skeptics, the episode looked like a public relations scheme, not an operational network.
Now comes the moment that matters. Protesters need tangible help—secure communications, medical support, coordination, and ways to reduce the human cost of repression. The same question resurfaces: Where are the 50,000 insiders? If a network of that scale exists, it should show itself through outcomes—disrupted orders, early warnings, blocked crackdowns, protected safe houses, reduced bloodshed. Making big claims without visible effects corrodes trust.
Leadership is not a hashtag; it is a plan, an organization, a chain of responsibility, and a willingness to be questioned.
A young woman captured the frustration in a widely shared video: People had been protesting, fighting, and dying, and then a figure returns from abroad, says the nation is calling his name, and issues a late call for demonstrations. Leaders call first, she argued, and people respond—not the other way around.
There is also a habit of momentum-hijacking. When unrest is initiated by labor networks or bazaar merchants, or when poorer towns carry the heaviest costs, megaphones abroad often arrive late and rush to claim credit. When Kurdish groups call for action, others try to rebrand it as their initiative. Media ecosystems then package this into “leadership.”
None of this reduces the regime’s guilt. The Islamic Republic pulls the trigger, orders the raids, runs the prisons, and hands down death sentences. But if someone claims the title of leader, he cannot outsource accountability. Leadership is not a hashtag; it is a plan, an organization, a chain of responsibility, and a willingness to be questioned.
Iran does not need another personality cult, crowned or clerical. It needs adults who can tolerate hard questions, work in coalitions, and build institutions that outlive them. Until then, the opposition will keep mistaking performance for power—and the regime will keep benefiting from our oldest weakness: a nation brave enough to rise, but too often trapped between myths.
