The killing of Ali Khamenei did not bring the Islamic Republic to an immediate breaking point. Instead, it revealed something perhaps even more telling: a regime trapped at a dead end.

Within days, Iran’s Assembly of Experts elevated his son, Mojtaba Khamenei, to the position of supreme leader—the first effective father-to-son transfer of power since the 1979 revolution that overthrew the monarchy. Mojtaba Khamenei is essentially his father’s brand, but weaker—exercising far less influence over the system.

Rather than projecting strength, the move demonstrated the regime’s desperation and despondency. Like a drowning man grasping at straws, the leadership turned to the only figure it believed might hold the system together. In reality, it had little choice but to select Khamenei’s son—not least because he carries his father’s name and maintains deep ties to the Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps and the regime’s security apparatus.

Keeping the regime’s ranks closed during wartime was certainly a consideration. But the deeper motive behind installing the younger Khamenei is the leadership’s fear of another nationwide uprising. If the January 2026 uprising is any indication, the next one could very well be broader in scope and far more ferocious in intensity.

Mojtaba Khamenei, a cleric who spent much of his career behind the scenes within his father’s office, now inherits a state facing the most severe crisis in its modern history.

For many Iranians, the emergence of a dynastic succession in a system that once defined itself through revolutionary legitimacy risks reinforcing the perception that the Islamic Republic has become less a republic than a closed political order – one that reproduces itself through loyalty networks rather than democratic consent.

That reality raises an unavoidable question: if the ruling structure remains unchanged, where might meaningful political change come from?

Moments of transition often invite superficial answers. Western observers, understandably wary of instability, frequently search for familiar names or figures who appear recognisable on the international stage.

In recent weeks, much attention has focused on diaspora gatherings and headline-grabbing claims of support for Reza Pahlavi, the son of Iran’s last monarch, who was deposed 47 years ago after a period marked by despotism, one-party rule enforced by the notorious secret police known as SAVAK, and rampant corruption.

Yet political legitimacy is not established by crowd estimates or social-media amplification. It rests on credibility, sacrifice and sustained engagement with the people whose future is at stake.

Reza Pahlavi’s public profile derives principally from lineage. That alone is not a democratic credential. Iran’s recent history should caution against assuming that hereditary association automatically translates into political viability. Our recent experience in Iraq, with figures such as Ahmad Chalabi, warrants extreme caution.

Indeed, the Islamic Republic itself emerged in part from popular rejection of a hereditary system of power.

The Iranian people have repeatedly signalled their rejection of both clerical authoritarianism and a return to monarchy, chanting in the streets: “Down with the oppressor – be it the Shah or the mullah.”

Their demand is not for recycled authority, but for democratic renewal.

If serious alternatives are to be considered, attention must turn to movements that have demonstrated endurance, organisation and clarity of purpose over time.

For more than four decades, the National Council of Resistance of Iran (NCRI) has presented itself as an organised opposition to the clerical regime. Tens of thousands of activists associated with its main constituent organisation, the People’s Mojahedin Organisation of Iran (MEK), have faced imprisonment, torture and execution. Its networks inside Iran continue to operate at considerable personal risk and were responsible for exposing Iran’s nuclear weapons programme. Whatever one’s prior assumptions, it is indisputable that this is a movement forged through sacrifice rather than convenience.

At its helm stands Maryam Rajavi.

Rajavi has spent decades advocating a democratic alternative to both theocratic rule and hereditary monarchy. Under her leadership, women have assumed prominent roles within the movement – a pointed contrast to the misogyny institutionalised by the current regime.

More importantly, she has articulated a 10-point plan outlining a future Iranian republic based on universal suffrage, free elections, separation of religion and state, gender equality, the abolition of the death penalty, minority autonomy within a unified Iran, and a non-nuclear republic.

These commitments are neither abstract nor rhetorical. They constitute a structured roadmap for transition — precisely the kind of clarity essential in moments of political rupture.

The decisive question now confronting Iran is whether Mojtaba Khamenei’s leadership will consolidate the existing system, deepen its reliance on the security apparatus, or instead accelerate the pressures that are already pushing the regime toward crisis.

History shows that political transitions rarely succeed through spontaneous upheaval alone. They succeed when organised political forces with legitimacy, structure, and a clear programme are prepared to step forward.

Cognisant of this reality, immediately following the reports of Ali Khamenei’s death, the National Council of Resistance of Iran (NCRI) announced the formation of a provisional government based on Maryam Rajavi’s Ten-Point Plan.

The succession may buy the regime time, but it cannot save the sinking ship. The opposition has offered a very different alternative.

It is time for the West to relinquish the status quo and align itself with an emerging future.

John Bercow served as Speaker of the House of Commons from 2009 to 2019.