Why is Iran’s top brass sitting for questions?
Niloufar Goudarzi
Iran International
Under unprecedented strain at home and abroad after the June war, Tehran is adopting new tones and messaging to steady its own base.
Iran International
Under unprecedented strain at home and abroad after the June war, Tehran is adopting new tones and messaging to steady its own base.
The clearest example comes from a darkened political talk show where once-unshakeable Iranian commanders now appear compelled to sit for unusually probing interviews.
A general adjusts the ring on his finger before answering. Another clears his throat to buy time. All are addressing—or attempting to address—now-unavoidable questions verbalised by host Javad Mogui, a documentary filmmaker long aligned with the establishment.
Since the 12-day war with Israel, the show’s tone has visibly shifted: clipped, direct, and edged with the frustrations circulating inside the system.
‘Too soft on the US’
One recent guest was senior Revolutionary Guards commander Mohammad Reza Naghdi.Mogui asked him about Iran’s retaliatory strike on a US base in Iraq following the killing of Quds Force commander Qassem Soleimani in January 2020.
“Many believe the roots of the recent war go back to that moment,” Mogui said in the dim light. “That our response was too soft.” Then, quietly: “Do you accept that we did not hit the Americans well enough?”
Naghdi smiled, though not comfortably. His replacement was quietly confirmed days later.
No Americans were killed in that attack, not least because Tehran reportedly telegraphed its intentions to Washington with enough notice.
‘At home’
In another episode Mogui asked air defence chief Gholamreza Jalali where he had been when Israel struck Tehran, killing many of Iran’s top brass.
“I was at home,” Jalali said. Mogui paused. “Should the armed forces not have been ready?” Jalali replied: “We did not expect that they would target the homes of commanders.”
Other senior figures have appeared under the same narrow pool of light: foreign minister Abbas Araghchi, parliament speaker Mohammad Bagher Ghalibaf, IRGC chief’s top adviser Ahmad Vahidi among others.
Each was asked about missed signals and the war’s opening hours—unamiganable without a nod from the highest authorities.
Political analyst Jaber Rajabi told Iran International TV that the candor reflects unease inside the system.
“The questions the host asks are the same ones being asked within the Revolutionary Guards and among pro-government supporters,” he said. “If they do not hear convincing answers, it could cause defections within these ranks.”
Patriotic turn
That insecurity is mirrored in Tehran’s cultural messaging.
In recent weeks the city unveiled a towering statue in Revolution Square depicting the Roman emperor Valerian kneeling before Shapur I, echoing a Sasanian relief.
The project anchors a campaign titled “You will kneel before Iran again,” launched near the anniversary of the 1979 embassy seizure.
Beneath the statue sit twelve panels narrating moments of “resistance” from Persian myth to the fight against ISIS and the recent twelve-day war.
The unveiling featured mobile LED trucks and orchestral performances, but officials insisted it was not a promotional event.
“This is the continuation of a historical truth: every invader has bowed before the will of the Iranian people,” the head of Tehran’s Beautification Organization said.
Tone not intent
Foreign reporting has noticed the same shift.
The Financial Times this week highlighted insiders arguing that Iran “must decide whether it wants to be a force that challenges or supports regional security.”
The Economist, asked whether the regime can survive five more years, replied that it likely will, though the “big question” is whether a change of leader would mean a change of regime.
Middle East correspondent Nicolas Pelham added that Iran appears to be “trying to reinvent itself,” pointing to the rise of explicit nationalist symbols.
Together, these strands point to a tactical revision rather than transformation: a state unsettled enough to justify decisions it once presented as self-evident, and determined to wrap that unease in a grander narrative of historical inevitability.
It is a shift more in register than structure—an Iran 0.2 more than 2.0.
