Clerical Error

The next phase in deciding Iran's political future will hinge as much on what happens behind the scenes as it does on continuing unrest in the streets. Ali Akbar Hashemi Rafsanjani, a former president who is now allied with Khatami and Mousavi, is reportedly looking to gather an array of revolutionary stalwarts and old-school clerics to speak out against the electoral fraud. He does not lack for natural allies in this effort: many state officials and high-ranking clerics are unnerved by Ahmadinejad's radicalism and would reject the arrest or expulsion of Mousavi, who is widely revered for stewarding Iran through what many call the "imposed war" against Iraq in the 1980s.

The likely objective of Rafsanjani, who has only recently made peace with the reformists after past disagreements, is to persuade Khamenei that a public discrediting of Iran's representative institutions poses a more serious risk to the survival of the system than does reversing course on the election. Still, mounting an effective internal challenge will be an uphill climb -- the instinct for avoiding open conflict is deeply ingrained among the Iranian elite, and Khamenei surely recognizes the danger to his authority in acquiescing to Mousavi and his "green wave" of support. Meanwhile, Ahmadinejad himself shows little interest in conciliation. The intelligence file on Mousavi's wife that Ahmadinejad brandished during pre-election debates was a signal to other elites of the regime's capacity for inflicting punitive damages. 

In watching Iran, it can be tempting to conflate excitement with inevitability, and rallies with regime change. So far, U.S. President Barack Obama has carefully tempered his public rhetoric despite pressure from political rivals to issue a more fervent appeal on behalf of the protestors. His reserve seems designed to avoid Washington's common trap of misguided optimism about systemic change in Iran. This administration understands that, for the moment, the United States can do far more to compromise any serious nuclear negotiations and undermine Iran's nascent opposition than it can to advance the aims of the reformers.

It is still possible, perhaps even probable, that the Islamic Republic will survive this crisis with its leadership and its ideology intact by using the same tactics that have enabled it to survive the manifold challenges over the past 30 years -- namely, making deals behind the scenes and cracking heads on the streets. However, if the crowds persist and Mousavi remains undaunted, the challenges to the regime will intensify, possibly beyond its capacity to withstand. Any substantial reversal in the official election verdict would effectively spell the demise of Khamenei's authority and, by extension, usher in a powerful sense that the public can hold the Iranian state and its leadership accountable.

The developments of the past week have offered an unexpected vindication of the reform movement's original strategy from the late 1990s, which aimed to apply pressure from below and negotiations at the top. Even if today's reformers do not succeed, and the street protests are stamped out by the regime, or those elites tempted to side with Mousavi ultimately buckle under pressure, the Iran that emerges from this crisis will be markedly different from the country the world knew before the election.

The reformists on the streets and in the corridors of power have emphasized the moderate nature of their demands; neither group is seeking to overturn the Islamic system. This caution may help enable the regime to prevail, but its short-term survival may leave it fatally weakened. In the aftermath of a stolen election, Iranians will remain mobilized in unprecedented numbers against their government and the leadership will be undercut by profound internal cleavages. However the crisis unfolds, the Islamic Republic as it has existed for 30 years is over. What follows will -- in either the short or long term -- represent a genuine improvement for both the Iranian people and the international community.