Iran's Nuclear Ambitions Fuel Elite Power Struggle

Iran's nuclear revival sparks a brutal power struggle among its fractured elite

The Kiss and the Embrace Spoke Volumes

General Asim Munir, Pakistan's army chief, seemed almost trapped in the embrace of his Iranian hosts during his visit to Tehran last Wednesday. And he enjoys high esteem with former U.S. President Donald Trump, too—who once called him his "favorite field marshal," a "great fighter," a "very important man," an "extraordinary person," and "the best expert on Iran." One thing is clear: Munir is far more than just a mediator between Tehran and Washington, and Pakistan is more than just a host for talks between the two warring parties.

The system Munir leads calls itself an "Islamic Republic"—just like Iran. But nearly 40 years ago, the Islamic Republic of Pakistan achieved what many of Iran's Revolutionary Guards still dream of: the bomb that makes a nation untouchable—the atomic bomb.

In 1998, Pakistan conducted its first publicly confirmed nuclear weapons test. At the time, the Western world was preoccupied with the post-communist era taking shape. The breaking news of Pakistan's bomb test barely registered. Yet the story of its nuclear buildup was fraught with intrigue—for many reasons, not least because Abdul Qadeer Khan, the Pakistani nuclear engineer who had earlier stolen uranium enrichment centrifuge designs from the Netherlands, later allegedly sold his expertise to Tehran's rulers for a hefty sum.

Ever since, Iran's Revolutionary Guards have been striving to become "untouchable" themselves. Their plans met resistance worldwide, yet they remained persistent, determined, and unyielding—right up until the war with Israel and the United States in 2025. Back then, Iran's nuclear facilities were largely destroyed, and many top generals were killed. The conflict that escalated in late February 2026 struck the Islamic Republic's leadership even harder. Now, those who remain are locked in a struggle—over the future of the regime, over who has the authority to speak in its name.

"I fear that if the regime reaches an agreement with the United States, it will only increase the pressure on ordinary people."

—Anonymous voice from Iran

Tehran's Power Struggles Play Out on X

The battles in Tehran are also being waged online, where members of Iran's leadership use the platform X to stake their claims.

Take the Strait of Hormuz, the narrow passage between the Persian Gulf and the Gulf of Oman. For Tehran, it now holds the same strategic weight as the nuclear program once did—a lever to pressure the world, especially the United States. After much back-and-forth, Foreign Minister Abbas Araghchi recently posted a declaration that the strait was open.

Hours later, a sensational counter-post appeared from an account called "Supporters of Dr. Saeed Jalili." Jalili is the most prominent figure among Iran's hardline faction. The 61-year-old, who lost a leg fighting in the Iran-Iraq War at just 16, has risen through the ranks of the Islamic Republic. The late Supreme Leader Ali Khamenei granted him considerable freedom—Jalili served as his chief of staff, a nuclear program negotiator, and was a serious contender against current President Masoud Pezeshkian in the last presidential election.

The account demanded: If the order to open the strait came from the "Leadership," then the Leader himself—Mojtaba Khamenei, son of the late Ali Khamenei—should confirm it in a video or audio message. If not, those behind the decision were "coup plotters." A serious accusation against Araghchi.

So Who's Really in Charge?

A deadlock—for the foreign minister and parliamentary speaker Mohammad Bagher Ghalibaf, who are currently leading negotiations with the U.S. The only way they could refute the coup allegations would be with a public appearance or statement from the new Leader. But how? Since his appointment, Mojtaba Khamenei has communicated only in writing. Rumors swirl about his health—some claim he is severely injured, in a coma, or even dead.

The Depth of Divisions in Iran's Islamic Regime Revealed by Delegation Size

The extent of the fractures at the top of Iran's Islamic regime can be seen in the sheer size of its delegation: a staggering 71 officials traveled to Pakistan for the latest negotiations with the United States.

Amid the bizarre power struggle between Mohammad Bagher Ghalibaf and Saeed Jalili, Iran's powerful National Security Council—whose approval is required for all major decisions in Tehran—has remained conspicuously silent. Its spokesman, Mohammad Bagher Zolghadr, was appointed secretary of the council after the death of Ali Larijani. Like Jalili, Zolghadr is a hardline fundamentalist. These days, he—along with many of Iran's true power brokers—lives in hiding. No recent videos of him have surfaced.

Ghalibaf and Jalili's rival, Mohammad Mokhber, have been able to appear in public because Donald Trump is willing to negotiate with them—a circumstance that seems to grant them a measure of temporary immunity. Both men were among the first generation of Revolutionary Guards and, in normal times, would be considered hardliners themselves.

The Dictatorship of the Revolutionary Guards

Ghalibaf and Mokhber appear to see Pakistan's Army Chief General Asim Munir as a model. Pakistan's military has steered its own "Islamic Republic" through crises and wars with relative success, and Munir embodies that approach.

During his visit to Iran last week, Munir reportedly ignored President Masoud Pezeshkian entirely, meeting exclusively with Revolutionary Guards officials—including General Ali Abdollahi, the head of Khatam al-Anbiya, the Guards' vast industrial, military, and service conglomerate.

The Islamic Republic of Iran, as it once existed—with a clerical supreme leader balancing competing factions—now seems consigned to history. In its place stands a dictatorship of the Revolutionary Guards, determined to shape the country's fate both at home and abroad.

And this Guards-led junta now faces its first major crisis. While it struggles to project unity on the international stage, domestically, it maintains an iron grip on the streets.

Iran's Streets Under Regime Patrol

After weeks of U.S. and Israeli airstrikes and the mass killings during January's protests, Iranians now look to the future with dread. "The war will end, but then our real problems with this system will begin," a 37-year-old Iranian woman, who participated in the January protests, recently told Reuters. Now, she says, "I'm terrified that if the regime reaches a deal with the United States, it will only increase the pressure on ordinary people."

Some neighborhoods in Tehran and other major cities already resemble a warzone: the Basij militia, under the command of the Revolutionary Guards, patrols everywhere, manning checkpoints at every turn. Night after night, armed forces march through the alleys, shouting orders. While foreign policy disputes still simmer between factions, the domestic power struggle has already been decided—the Guards have won.