'Let's cut off the gas': official line on Tehran blast sparks jokes

“A strange phenomenon,” declared Abdollah Ganji, former chief of the Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps (IRGC)-affiliated daily Javan, to his 150,000 followers on X on July 9.

“After the recent war, several pieces of paper were found on the streets of Tehran containing talismans with Jewish symbols," he added. "A few years ago, the Supreme Leader said that hostile countries and Western and Hebrew intelligence services use occult sciences and jinn beings for espionage."

In March 2020, supreme leader Ali Khamenei alleged in a televised address that “enemies from among both jinn and human beings” were arrayed against Iran.

The quote was later removed from some official transcripts.

What Are Jinn?

Ganji—now an advisor to the mayor of Tehran—was echoing a broader pattern of supernatural claims pervading Iran’s official political narrative.

In Islamic tradition, jinn are supernatural beings made from fire, distinct from humans, who are created from soil.

Mentioned frequently in the Quran and rooted in pre-Islamic mythology, jinn are believed by some to have the ability to shapeshift, influence human thoughts, and act as agents of harm or espionage.

References to them remain common in Iranian political and religious rhetoric, particularly when discussing Israel and Western powers. Clerics on Iranian television and radio have repeatedly discussed Israel’s alleged use of jinn.

“Given the Zionists’ history of controlling jinn, many of their missions are carried out through them,” said Hojatoleslam Mehdi Karami in an October 2024 program.

In March 2023, state TV aired remarks by Quranic scholar Hojjat ol-Eslam Valiyollah Naghipourfar, who claimed Iran’s intelligence services had thwarted Israeli infiltration efforts conducted via jinn.

Scapegoating failure?

While many clerics view jinn as real and spiritually potent, others—particularly among Iran’s modernist theologians—interpret them metaphorically.

Ganji’s comment on X renewed the debate, with moderate voices pushing back.

“Talking about Jewish talismans and the role of jinn and fairies in Israel’s aggression against Iran is an attempt to downplay the role of infiltrators and to overlook the enemy’s tactics,” former government spokesman Abdollah Ramezanzadeh said on X.

Desert totems

Ganji’s post—and the ensuing debate—wasn’t missed in Israel.

“Consuming drugs and conversing with jinn are not desirable traits in someone leading a country,” an X account purporting to represent Israel's intelligence agency, the Mossad, posted in Persian.

To make the debate even more intriguing, Ganji’s post coincided with the circulation of a satellite image showing geometric patterns—including Stars of David and triangles—etched into a desert near a missile base in central Iran.

The origin of the shapes remains unclear, but some social media users linked them to occult or symbolic efforts aimed at Iran’s military.

Iranian authorities have since removed the markings but Israeli diplomat Waleed Gadban reposted an image of the desert patterns with a mocking caption: “We are closer to you than your jugular vein.”

During and after the 12-day Iran–Israel war, several Iranian and international outlets reported that former President Hassan Rouhani and Hassan Khomeini—the grandson of the Islamic Republic’s first supreme leader—had joined forces to influence the succession process.

Some US media also revived earlier reports of a three-member committee within the Assembly of Experts, tasked with selecting the next supreme leader.

Senior clerics and analysts noted a key obstacle: although Iran’s Constitution does not require the leader to be a descendant of the Prophet (a sayyed), it is widely believed that a white-turbaned cleric like Rouhani would struggle to gain legitimacy.

Sayyeds, including Khomeini, wear black turbans as a symbol of their lineage.

A premature move in Qom?

In this scenario, Rouhani’s role would mirror that of former president Akbar Hashemi Rafsanjani, who helped groom Khamenei to succeed Ruhollah Khomeini, the Islamic Republic’s founding leader.

But the theory lacks evidence.

What reportedly occurred was a trip by Rouhani and Khomeini to Qom, where they consulted senior clerics including Nouri Hamadani and Makarem Shirazi. Anecdotal accounts from clerics and political veterans suggest that this move—viewed as premature—deeply angered Khamenei.

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On X and other platforms, many users argue that Khamenei will seek revenge against those they label the main perpetrators: Iran’s moderates and reformists.

“The reformists … believed Israel would carry out the assassinations of officials, creating space for their return,” activist Arashk Rajabpour posted on X.

“But Trump’s ceasefire left the project unfinished … it’s unlikely that those who pushed this project forward won’t face consequences.”

Revenge and the politics of martyrdom

Such accusations echo a recent Iran International report citing Khamenei’s military adviser Rahim Safavi, who allegedly claimed Israel attempted to orchestrate a coup during the war.

The report suggested that while Rouhani and Khomeini acted on one front, former President Mahmoud Ahmadinejad and several IRGC commanders operated on another—each seeking to steer the West toward accepting a controlled internal transition which would empower their respective camps.

They now stand accused of quietly celebrating Israel’s killing of IRGC commanders as political openings.

Saving the regime, not the people?

The concept of revenge carries deep resonance in Shi'ite culture. In Ta'ziyeh, the traditional passion play, vengeance for the martyrdom of the third Shiite Imam is a central theme.

Ironically, the alleged conspirators are now being condemned by some dissident Iranians for trying to rescue the very system they once criticized.

“Hassan Rouhani’s name is once again on people’s lips,” monarchist activist Ashkan Vahdat posted on X, “not to save the people, but to save the regime.”

“With a seemingly moderate face and a reassuring smile, they want to frighten the public with the threat of foreign enemies, to once again manufacture a threat and say, Take refuge in us,” he added.

His remarks—particularly his effort to distinguish between the United States and Israel—angered many in the hardline camp. Critics insisted he should have treated the two as a unified threat.

“He should have explicitly named ‘America’ and the ‘Zionist regime’ and treated them as one and the same,” said a commentary in Javan, a newspaper linked to the Revolutionary Guards (IRGC).

The piece also mocked Pezeshkian for “maintaining a distinction between the real Trump and an imaginary one,” referring to his claim that Trump had the potential to “make the Middle East flourish and bring about a bright and peaceful future.”

Among his critics, Pezeshkian’s tone was seen not as strategic but submissive.

Lawmaker Meisam Zohurian argued the president should have portrayed Iran as a wronged but powerful nation, not “a wronged and beaten-down nation forced by fear to take refuge from one tyrant to its accomplice.”

No forgiveness for "God's Enemies"

Hardliners also attacked Pezeshkian’s denial of two recent fatwas against Trump and Benjamin Netanyahu, issued after threats to Iran’s Supreme Leader Ali Khamenei.

“This is not specifically about the President of the United States or any other individual,” Pezeshkian told Carlson. “Religious scholars have expressed their scholarly views, but this fatwa in no way implies killing or threats.”

In contrast, the fatwas by Grand Ayatollahs Nasser Makarem Shirazi and Hossein Nouri-Hamedani invite Muslims worldwide to make those who threaten Khamenei and other senior clerics “regret their words.”

A provincial branch of Iran’s Organization for Islamic Propagation later offered a financial bounty for killing Trump.

Both fatwas declare anyone who threatens the Islamic umma (nation) and its leadership as muharib—an “enemy of God.” While not explicitly calling for execution, such a crime carries the death penalty under Iranian law.

Hossein Shariatmadari, Kayhan’s Khamenei-appointed editor-in-chief, dismissed Pezeshkian’s interpretation.

“Your information is flawed and inaccurate,” he wrote in an editorial on Wednesday. “Individuals such as Trump, Netanyahu, and some other U.S. officials fall under this ruling, and their punishment is execution.”

Forever "Death to America"

Pezeshkian was also condemned for softening revolutionary slogans.

Ultraconservative lawmaker Amir Hossein sabeti criticized him for detaching “Death to America” from U.S. leaders: “If this slogan isn’t directed at Trump, then who is it aimed at? A random employee at the New York tax office?”

“American officials issue orders to assassinate our people, officials, and scientists,” Sabeti added, “and you think you can win their hearts with such passive and romantic positions?”

Fereshteh Sadeghi, a hardline journalist, accused Pezeshkian of “degrading Iranian slogans, begging for recognition, whitewashing US crimes, and flattering Trump.”

Moderates' support

Not all responses were critical. Some reformists and moderates praised Pezeshkian’s outreach to the American public—especially Trump’s base.

“He exposed the gap between Trump's promises and performance, and debunked misconceptions in American society about Iranians’ hostility toward the American people,” wrote political analyst Ali Nasri, highlighting the interview’s anti-war message.

The silence of state broadcaster IRIB—dominated by ultraconservatives—also drew comment.

“If Ebrahim Raisi had appeared on Carlson’s show, the national broadcaster would have aired it multiple times across all channels,” said former advisor Abdolreza Davari.

The limited coverage of Pezeshkian’s appearance, he suggested, revealed the establishment’s unease.

Tepid support from the hardline establishment and deepening economic woes defined his first year, in which the Iranian currency lost a full half of its value.

Now after an Israeli-American military drubbing dealt the Islamic Republic its greatest ever challenge, his problems may only deepen.

His election was celebrated by Iran’s moderates, but rejected by some hardliners and many dissidents who had boycotted the election.

Pezeshkian narrowly secured victory in an election that saw the lowest voter turnout in the Islamic Republic’s 46-year history. Yet, the series of crises that unfolded over the following year may have rendered him the unluckiest president Iran has seen.

The night after his inauguration, senior Hamas leader Ismail Haniyeh was assassinated in Tehran in a strike attributed to Israel.

The attack, which took place at an Revolutionary Guards-provided residence, deeply unnerved Tehran. A year on, the details remain murky.

The year that followed was dominated by an escalating cycle of threats, counter-threats, and the direct attacks traded between Iran and Israel.

Simultaneously, Pezeshkian faced relentless efforts by ultraconservatives to unseat him. Discussions about impeaching his cabinet ministers and ousting his vice presidents persisted throughout the year.

Enemies within and without

So far, his rivals have successfully removed Vice President Mohammad Javad Zarif—the former foreign minister whose experience and charisma were key assets in forming Pezeshkian’s cabinet.

Pezeshkian's Economy Minister, Abdolnasser Hemmati, was impeached and removed, leaving his post vacant for nearly four months.

Eventually, one of Pezeshkian’s candidates, Ali Madanizadeh, was approved by the parliament—perhaps thanks to Supreme Leader Ali Khamenei who spoke against intra-regime infighting during the war with Israel.

Throughout the year, voices from across the political divide—including many ordinary citizens—insisted that Pezeshkian honor the promises he made during his campaign.

Chief among them was a pledge to improve Iran’s worsening economic conditions, marked by rampant inflation, high unemployment, and widespread financial hardship.

These crises were deeply entrenched well before the war with Israel, and following the conflict, the administration seems poised to use the war as justification for its failures.

Campaign rhetoric meets wartime reality

Another key promise—especially significant to women—was to dismantle the compulsory hijab patrols. This was not achieved, though a draconian new enforcement law lapsed amid broad public objections.

The patrols returned to the streets weeks before the war, once again harassing women. Their more recent absence owes more to women’s defiance and the outbreak of war than to any government action. Pezeshkian can claim little—if any—credit here.

A third major demand was the removal of censorship on social media platforms essential to the livelihoods of some 400,000 online businesses, according to government and Chamber of Commerce figures.

Despite an extensive publicity campaign, only WhatsApp saw its ban lifted. Yet as the war erupted, the state once again clamped down on digital freedoms, including renewed restrictions on WhatsApp.

The government blamed social media for enabling Israel’s apparent access to sensitive information about Iranian officials, sparking widespread ridicule from the public.

Roughly a week after the Tehran–Tel Aviv ceasefire, a slight easing of media restrictions allowed pro-reform outlets such as Etemad to resurface. They warned that ignoring campaign promises would only deepen public discontent.

“Dissent may return to the streets with renewed momentum,” an Etemad editorial cautioned, “especially as economic pressures mount.”

“For now, both the streets and skies are quiet. But neither calm is likely to hold—and Pezeshkian may be in for a rougher ride than the year he just survived.”

Many are convinced it will start again.

“More homes will collapse. More people will die,” says Masoud, the electrician fixing the lights in our building’s corridors. “We have our carry-on ready by the door.”

Fears aren’t as sharp as last week, but many in the neighborhood still talk about safe and unsafe spots. The strike on Evin Prison—and the video of a blast at a busy junction in northern Tehran—hammered home the reality of war.

“We were at my in-laws’, right next to the prison. We thought it was the safest place—no way they’d hit a prison. But they did,” says Shadi, who lives with her husband and their two children in the apartment above us.

“The chandelier broke off and glass shattered everywhere. My son and his grandma had surface cuts. It could have been far worse.”

The prison bombing has seeded a new fear, Shadi says. “If even the prison isn’t safe, then what is? Not hospitals, not universities, not schools, not kindergartens.”

Kindergarten—that’s another image that cannot be unseen: shattered dolls and toys flung across the room. By sheer chance, it had closed 15 minutes before impact.

'Did they hit again?'

Officials say over 3,200 residential units were destroyed in Tehran. Thousands are now homeless. The wreckage has chipped away at war supporters.

One of them is a close friend of mine from university—Yara.

Before, when I warned that war meant destruction, he’d say: “This isn’t war. It’s just precision strikes against officials and bases, not civilians.”

Yara was lucky not to be physically hurt, but he was close enough to enough loud explosions to have nightmares—per his partner.

“He still jumps up at night and asks me, zadan (did they hit?)”

'They're still here'

Not all war supporters have changed their minds. In many homes, even emotional bonds were frayed under the bombs. When the ceasefire came, some were relieved, others angry.

“We endured the war, and they’re still here,” you hear many say.

They—who are still here—refers to Iran’s ruling elite, the Islamic Republic, the regime, as many prefer to call it.

Quite a few people I know hoped a few days of bombing would force the regime to collapse or walk away. The further you get from the epicenter, the deeper the divide, perhaps because you haven’t heard the blasts or watched the walls crumble.

I remember a conversation on day two of the war, before the full fear had set in. I asked a cousin and his wife to leave Tehran with us, for the sake of their kids.

“What if there are evacuation alerts like Beirut?” I implored. “Tehran will lock down. You won’t be able to leave.”

They refused, pointing me to their conversations with ChatGPT.

In the worst-case scenario, you could grab your bag and walk a couple of blocks to safety, they argued. “Any such alert would cover a couple of alleys at most. That’s what a precision strike is.”

ChatGPT had reassured them.

A new reality

Later, they told me what happened when evacuation orders hit districts six and seven—two major parts of the city. They had stayed. We had left.

“People were fleeing in panic in the middle of the night. Car horns nonstop,” my cousin’s wife said. “I sat in the car with my head in my hands, hoping nothing would explode nearby.”

That’s everyone’s fear these days—that the pause in fighting ends and they, or someone they love, are near an unannounced target of another “precision strike.”

And then there are the costs few talk about.

Many companies have laid off staff. It’s peak moving season in Tehran—leases ending, rents rising. People don’t know whether to stay, sign, or leave.

We thought we were used to suspended life—constant inflation, sudden, irreversible shifts in the economy and politics. But this is something else. A new phase entirely.