The IRGC has blocked presidential appointments and decisions while erecting a security perimeter around the core of power, effectively sidelining the government from executive control.

Efforts by Masoud to appoint a new intelligence minister last Thursday collapsed under direct pressure from IRGC chief-commander Ahmad Vahidi, sources with knowledge of the situation told Iran International.

All proposed candidates, including Hossein Dehghan, were rejected. Vahidi is said to have insisted that, given wartime conditions, all critical and sensitive leadership positions must be selected and managed directly by the IRGC until further notice.

Under Iran’s political system, presidents have traditionally nominated intelligence ministers only after securing the approval of the Supreme Leader, who holds ultimate authority over key security portfolios.

However, with the condition and whereabouts of Supreme Leader Mojtaba Khamenei unclear in recent weeks, the IRGC is now effectively blocking the president from advancing its preferred candidate, further consolidating its grip over the state’s security apparatus.

Security cordon around Khamenei Jr.

Pezeshkian has repeatedly sought an urgent meeting with Mojtaba Khamenei in recent days, but all requests have gone unanswered, with no contact established.

Informed sources say a “military council” composed of senior IRGC officers now exercises full control over the core decision-making structure, enforcing a security cordon around Mojtaba Khamenei and preventing government reports on the country’s situation from reaching him.

Speculation has also emerged regarding whether Mojtaba Khamenei’s health condition may be contributing to the current power dynamics.

Efforts to remove Hejazi

At the same time, an unprecedented internal crisis is reportedly unfolding within Mojtaba Khamenei’s inner circle. Some close associates are said to be pushing to remove Ali Asghar Hejazi, a powerful security figure in the Supreme Leader’s office.

The tensions are rooted in Hejazi’s explicit opposition to Mojtaba Khamenei’s potential succession. He had previously warned members of the Assembly of Experts that Mojtaba lacks the necessary qualifications for leadership and argued that hereditary succession is incompatible with the principles outlined by Supreme Leader Ali Khamenei, according to informed sources.

Hejazi reportedly cautioned that elevating Mojtaba would effectively hand full control of the country to the IRGC and permanently sideline civilian institutions.

In the first week of the ongoing war, Israeli media reported that Hejazi had been targeted in an airstrike in Tehran. However, later reports indicated that he survived the attack.

Jafari, a fifth-grade student, was killed at a military checkpoint in Tehran during US and Israeli airstrikes targeting military sites, according to Hengaw, a Norway-based Kurdish human rights organization that monitors abuses in Iran.

In an interview with the state-affiliated Hamshahri newspaper, the boy’s mother said that because of a “shortage of personnel,” his father had taken him to the checkpoint. He was later killed in a drone strike while stationed there.

The Basij Organization confirmed that the 11-year-old died “while on duty” at a checkpoint on Artesh Highway as a result of the strike.

Why he was sent remains difficult to verify. In Iran’s tightly controlled information environment, families often speak under pressure, with state scrutiny and the threat of reprisals limiting candor.

The case comes as officials with the Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps have openly acknowledged lowering the minimum age for war-related support roles to 12.

Rahim Nadali, a cultural official with the Guards in Tehran, said in remarks aired on state media that an initiative called For Iran was recruiting participants for patrols, checkpoints and logistics.

“Given that the age of those coming forward has dropped and they are asking to take part, we lowered the minimum age to 12,” he said, adding that 12- and 13-year-olds could now take part if they wished.

The state-backed recruitment drive makes Jafari’s death more than an isolated case. Together with precedent from the Iran-Iraq war, it suggests children even younger than the officially stated minimum may also be drawn into the war effort.

For rights advocates, the case reveals both a propaganda strategy and a manpower crisis inside a weakened state.

“They want to recruit these young people, use them as a kind of human shield. Because if they attack these kids, they start saying, ‘Oh look, they attack kids,’ and that’s what they’re doing,” said Shiva Mahbobi, a former political prisoner and London-based human rights advocate.

The child was placed at a military checkpoint even as the regime knew such sites were active targets of Israeli strikes, underscoring the degree to which minors were knowingly exposed to lethal risk.

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Analysts say the reliance on minors also points to deeper strain within the regime’s security structure. After months of domestic unrest, wartime losses and reported cracks within some IRGC ranks, including defections, the state appears increasingly short on trusted personnel for checkpoint and support roles.

“They have actually called upon younger people to come and tried to recruit them. It shows they are preparing for a battle where they know they will need many more forces,” Mahmood Amiry-Moghaddam of the Norway-based Iran Human Rights organization told Iran International.

“It also shows they are not in a good condition. They are struggling for their survival.”

“They have only one principle, which is holy to them, and that’s to preserve the establishment," he added.

Through his human rights organization, Amiry-Moghaddam has documented cases from the January crackdown in which the regime placed weapons in the hands of minors and sent them to fire on protesters, exploiting the hesitation many civilians feel when confronted by a child.

A holy pledge: preserve the regime

The use of children in conflict, rights groups say, is not new. It reflects a longer doctrine in which vulnerable lives are used to offset military weakness and preserve the state.

“The Islamic Republic used a large number of child soldiers during the war with Iraq. They also sent Afghan children to fight in Syria,” said Shahin Milani, executive director of the Iran Human Rights Documentation Center.

“Given the pressure they are under, it is not surprising that they have resorted to using minors to man checkpoints. Perhaps they want to keep their trained fighters for more critical roles. Since it came to power in 1979, the Islamic Republic has relied on sacrificing its soldiers to compensate for technological inferiority.”

That logic, rights defenders argue, crosses from military expediency into deliberate political calculation.

“Hiding behind children is not new. The Islamic Republic used children in the war with Iraq as well, brainwashing them with propaganda and giving them keys to heaven," said Roya Boroumand, co-founder and executive director of the Abdorrahman Boroumand Center.

The move comes despite Iran’s obligations under the Convention on the Rights of the Child, which prohibits the use of children in military activities. Iran signed the treaty on September 5, 1991 and ratified it on July 13, 1994.

For Boroumand, the use of minors reflects a governing doctrine in which human life is subordinated to state survival.

“They are disposable and instruments for a higher purpose. In this case, the loss of children’s lives increases the political cost of war for their enemies. So rather than protecting and evacuating them to safe shelters, they deliberately expose them to danger,” she said.

So far, UNICEF has not publicly condemned the Islamic Republic’s stated policy of recruiting children into war-related support roles. Iran International has reached out to UNICEF’s communications team for comment.

US Secretary of State Marco Rubio said on Tuesday Washington’s attack on Iran was aimed at preventing Tehran from developing nuclear weapons and dismantling what he described as a growing missile and drone “shield.”

In a video published by the White House on X, Rubio said there was “zero doubt” Iran ultimately seeks nuclear weapons, rejecting Tehran’s claims that its program is solely for civilian energy.

"They could have nuclear energy like all the other countries in the world have it. And that is, you import the fuel and you build reactors above ground. That's not what Iran has done," he said. "They build their reactors and their facilities deep in mountains away from the public glare, and they want to enrich that material, the same equipment that they could use to enrich material for energy they could use to quickly enrich it to weapons grade."

“We were on the verge of an Iran that had so many missiles and so many drones that no one could do anything about their nuclear weapons program,” Rubio said, calling it an “intolerable risk.”

He said the operation aims to destroy Iran’s missile and drone capabilities so it “can’t hide behind it” and must engage with the international community over its nuclear ambitions.

Iranian state-linked media reported on Tuesday that several steel facilities in central and southwestern Iran were targeted in airstrikes.

IRGC Affiliated Fars News Agency said that, alongside a steel mill in Esfahan, parts of the Sefid Dasht Steel Complex in Borujen were hit.

Separately, Mehr News Agency reported an airstrike on Khuzestan Steel as well as Esfahan’s Mobarakeh Steel facility.

What appears, at first glance, as a dynastic shift is in fact the continuation of an ideological and institutional project: the consolidation and reproduction of Khameneism.

The central argument is straightforward: Mojtaba Khamenei does not represent a new phase in the Islamic Republic. He represents the success of a long-term process of “rail-laying”—a deliberate restructuring of power that ensures continuity regardless of who formally occupies the position of Supreme Leader. In this sense, the system no longer depends on individual authority; it reproduces a predefined ideological and political logic.

This transformation was made possible by the way Ali Khamenei maximized the latent capacities of the Islamic Republic’s constitutional framework. The constitution already concentrates extraordinary power in the office of the Supreme Leader. However, Khamenei did not merely operate within these limits—he expanded and operationalized them. Over 37 years, he systematically turned flexible or ambiguous mechanisms into rigid and enforceable structures, embedding his ideological preferences into the institutional fabric of the state.

One of the clearest examples of this process is the evolution of the Supreme Council of the Cultural Revolution. This body, notably absent from the constitution, was gradually transformed under Khamenei into a central pillar of ideological control. What began as a mechanism for purging universities in the early years of the revolution became a highly structured institution with dozens of sub-councils, extending its reach across education, culture, media, and social policy. It evolved into a powerful instrument for shaping and policing societal norms—without ever requiring formal constitutional legitimacy. This is Khameneism in practice: the ability to formalize control without formal law.

A similar trajectory can be observed in the transformation of the Guardian Council. Originally conceived as a supervisory body overseeing legislation and elections, it was reengineered into a decisive mechanism for controlling political outcomes. Through expanded vetting powers and systematic disqualification of candidates, the council moved from oversight to orchestration. Over time, it became capable not only of influencing elections but effectively determining their results in advance. This shift—from supervision to engineering—was not incidental; it was a key step in institutionalizing Khameneism.

These developments were not isolated. They formed part of a broader strategy to eliminate unpredictability from the system. Independent political actors were sidelined, reformist currents neutralized, and institutional autonomy steadily eroded. What emerged was a tightly controlled ecosystem in which all meaningful levers of power—political, judicial, cultural, and economic—were aligned with a single ideological framework.

Within this context, the emergence of Mojtaba Khamenei as a central figure becomes comprehensible. His lack of traditional religious credentials or broad political legitimacy is not a contradiction—it is a consequence of the system’s evolution. Years of institutional engineering, including the careful management of the Assembly of Experts and the systematic removal of potential obstacles, made such a transition possible. The “selection” process itself reflects the culmination of Khamenei’s long-term restructuring: a system in which outcomes are preconfigured rather than contested.

More importantly, Mojtaba’s rise demonstrates that Khameneism has achieved a critical threshold—it can now sustain itself without its original architect. The ideology has been embedded so deeply within the system that any successor, regardless of personal inclination, is compelled to operate within its parameters. The structure dictates the outcome.

This is why the question of leadership succession is, in many ways, secondary. Whether it is Mojtaba Khamenei or another figure, the current institutional configuration leaves little room for deviation. The mechanisms of control, the networks of power, and the ideological priorities—particularly the emphasis on regime preservation, anti-Western positioning, and hostility toward Israel even at significant national cost—are all structurally entrenched.

Khameneism, therefore, is no longer simply an ideology associated with one leader. It is a system of governance—self-reinforcing, expansive, and resistant to change. The Islamic Republic has, through decades of deliberate restructuring, lost its capacity to generate alternative political paths from within.

In this sense, Mojtaba Khamenei is not the beginning of a new chapter. He is the continuation of a trajectory that has been decades in the making.

And perhaps more significantly, this continuity underscores a deeper reality: the Islamic Republic has reached a point where change from within has become structurally improbable. The very mechanisms designed to preserve the system have also eliminated its flexibility.

Khameneism, as both ideology and structure, may ultimately define not only how the system survives—but how it ends. It sustains the Islamic Republic by centralizing power, eliminating dissent, and enforcing ideological conformity across all institutions. Yet those same mechanisms steadily erode the foundations of long-term stability: public trust, institutional adaptability, and economic resilience. A system built to prevent deviation becomes incapable of reform; a state designed to suppress a crisis becomes dependent on perpetual coercion to manage it.

In this sense, Khameneism transforms survival into a self-consuming process. Each cycle of repression narrows the regime’s options further, raises the cost of governance, and deepens the gap between state and society. The tools that once ensured control—security dominance, ideological rigidity, and exclusion of alternative voices—gradually become liabilities, locking the system into a path where it can neither evolve nor retreat.

As a result, Khameneism may determine not only the durability of the Islamic Republic, but also the form of its eventual breakdown: not a sudden collapse, but an accumulated exhaustion. A system that endures by sacrificing its capacity to renew itself ultimately reaches a point where continuation itself becomes unsustainable.