Iran International
Tehran’s patriotic messaging in the wake of the war with Israel reached new heights when Supreme Leader Ali Khamenei, in his first public appearance since the ceasefire, requested that a patriotic song be sung at the year’s flagship religious ceremony.
The request—made to Mahmoud Karimi, a hardline maddah closely aligned with Khamenei—capped not only ten days of mourning but two weeks of state-sponsored flag-waving to rally a war-worn people.
In processions that traditionally focus on the martyrdom of Imam Hussein, mourners this year chanted not just elegies, but songs about Iran and its ancient glory.
The one Khamenei called for begins with the line: “You remain in my soul and spirit, O homeland.”
Patriotism over piety
Muharram marks the death of the Shiites’ third Imam, killed in 680 CE at the Battle of Karbala.Iranians typically observe the month with processions, recitations, and rituals such as chest-beating or striking the back with chains. Events may be state-funded or grassroots.
This year, however, the ceremonies unfolded just weeks after the 12-day war with Israel and a fragile ceasefire.
State media and cultural institutions quickly moved to frame the mood, promoting a unified nationalist-religious narrative. A new slogan was emblazoned on banners, billboards, and public screens across cities: Iran, loyal to Hussein, will always prevail.
For the first time, patriotic anthems like O Iran—composed in 1944 and long associated with opposition movements—were performed during ceremonies. In previous years, such songs might have drawn censure or bans.
In many neighborhoods, the Iranian tricolor flew alongside the black and green standards of Karbala. Officials and local municipalities provided logistical and financial support to mourning groups that embraced the new tone.
State control, grassroots defiance
Khamenei’s Ashura appearance followed three nights of absence from the annual ceremonies held at his residence—an unusual break that had fueled speculation about his health.
His brief presence, and the seemingly spontaneous request for My Iran, was widely viewed as carefully orchestrated: a symbolic moment signaling that patriotic devotion now held equal standing with religious mourning in the Islamic Republic’s ideological framework.
The regime has long drawn on the defiance of Imam Hussein to frame its political posture, casting enemies such as Israel, the United States, and domestic critics as modern-day Yazids.
But Muharram has never been solely the regime’s domain. Despite increasing state choreography, it remains a space where protest and dissent can still break through.
During the widespread protests of 2022, some mourning groups adopted openly critical tones, invoking the deaths of young protesters at the hands of security forces. Echoes of that defiance surfaced again this year.
