For a man who has been synonymous with the Islamic Republic of Iran, ruling it with absolute authority, Supreme Leader Ayatollah Ali Khamenei has recently become a ghost. As Iran is licking its wounds after 12 days of incessant battering by the Israeli Airforce that decimated its nuclear program, plunging deeper into domestic unrest, and suffering the shockwaves of international sanctions, one voice has been conspicuously absent: that of the Supreme Leader himself.
Khamenei has long maintained a deliberately enigmatic public presence. While he frequently speaks at national ceremonies, Friday sermons, or through his tightly controlled social media accounts, his appearances are curated to reinforce his image as a pious, all-knowing guardian of the revolution. But over the past several weeks—coinciding with the escalation of war with Israel, internal power struggles in the regime, and an uptick in rumors about his health—Khamenei has been largely invisible.
Khamenei’s prolonged silence has unnerved even his most devoted supporters. On Iranian social media, loyalists have begun circulating messages expressing unease, saying they cannot truly feel that Iran has emerged victorious in its war against Israel until they see or hear directly from the Supreme Leader. The absence of his voice—normally ever-present in moments of crisis—has left a psychological and political void.
According to four senior Iranian officials familiar with ongoing policy deliberations, that void is already being filled by behind-the-scenes maneuvering. These officials told The New York Times that in Khamenei’s absence, high-ranking politicians and military commanders are forming rival factions and jockeying for power. The divisions, they said, are not merely personal but ideological—centered on differing visions for Iran’s nuclear future, its posture toward negotiations with the United States, and its strategy in the confrontation with Israel.
Amid this uncertainty, President Masoud Pezeshkian offered his most pointed remarks to date at a cabinet meeting on Wednesday, hinting that the current moment calls for bold reform. “The war and the unity among the people have created an opportunity to change our views on governance and the behavior of our officials,” Pezeshkian told his ministers, according to an official summary of the meeting. “This is a golden opportunity for change.”
In a nation where open challenges to the Supreme Leader’s vision have long been taboo, Pezeshkian’s words signal that something fundamental may be shifting. Whether his call for a new political approach represents genuine reform or calculated opportunism remains unclear. But as speculation swirls and the government stays silent, Iran’s future appears increasingly uncertain—and perhaps already in motion.
HE MIGHT AS WELL BE DEAD
Mohsen Khalifeh, editor-in-chief of Khaneman, a daily newspaper specializing in real estate development, told The New York Times that Khamenei’s “days-long absence has made all of us who love him very worried.” Acknowledging a possibility that, just two weeks ago, would have seemed unthinkable, Khalifeh added that if the Supreme Leader were truly dead, his funeral procession would be “the most glorious and historic” in Iran’s modern memory.
Khamenei’s last verified public appearance was more than a month ago. Even then, images released by state media appeared heavily edited, and no outside observers were allowed access. Since then, only written statements and recycled footage have emerged—far from the assertive public posture typical during national crises. For a regime built on symbolism, this vacuum is glaring.
Khamenei, 85, is known to have suffered from various ailments over the years. In 2014, he underwent prostate surgery, and since then, credible rumors have surfaced occasionally about cancer or other serious conditions. The Iranian regime treats such matters as top secret, aware that public doubts about the Supreme Leader’s health could destabilize its entire political structure.
In recent weeks, reports from opposition sources and foreign intelligence leaks suggest that Khamenei may be seriously ill—or possibly even deceased, with the regime delaying the announcement to secure internal continuity. Iranian dissidents abroad have pointed to suspicious activity around Khamenei’s residence in Tehran and an unusual silence from several key institutions.
Khamenei’s disappearance comes at a perilous moment. Iran is engaged in a shadow war with Israel that erupted into open conflict in June 2025. Its proxies—from Hezbollah in Lebanon to the Houthis in Yemen—are on high alert. Internally, protests simmer over economic hardship, political repression, and women’s rights. U.S. and Israeli officials are watching closely. An Iranian regime in flux, with no clear leadership, could miscalculate—or lash out.
Whether Khamenei is dead, dying, or simply retreating from view, his absence underscores the fragility of the Islamic Republic’s theocratic structure. For decades, he has been the glue holding together a system built on ideological rigidity and brutal pragmatism. If that glue is dissolving, Iran—and the region—may be heading for a period of dangerous uncertainty.
Until the regime comes clean, the world is left guessing: Where in the world is Ali Khamenei? And more importantly: What happens if he never returns?
