Iran and the Violence of Empire: How War Manufactures Consent and Buries Revolutions

 From Mossadegh to Khamenei—Why Imperialism Needs Theocracy More Than Democracy

-Ramphal Kataria

Abstract

Iran’s modern history is not a story of isolated incidents but of systematic interruption—where every democratic impulse has been destabilized, redirected, or crushed by imperialist intervention and internal ideological capture. This essay argues that the present war-like confrontation involving Iran, Israel, and the United States is not an aberration but a continuation of a long historical pattern: imperialism does not merely confront regimes—it produces and stabilizes them. Through a Marxist lens, the essay examines how the overthrow of Mohammad Mossadegh, the rise of Ruhollah Khomeini, and the consolidation of clerical authority under Ali Khamenei represent successive moments in which popular sovereignty was displaced. It further interrogates India’s shifting posture under Narendra Modi, arguing that strategic alignment with the US-Israel axis risks eroding a historically grounded relationship with Iran. The central thesis is stark: war does not weaken authoritarian regimes—it manufactures their legitimacy.

I. Introduction: Empire’s Long Shadow

To understand contemporary Iran is to understand interruption. Not evolution, not linear development—but rupture. Every time Iran has approached a democratic horizon, it has been violently pulled back—either by imperial intervention or by internal forces that thrive in the vacuum created by it.

As Karl Marx wrote,

“Men make their own history, but they do not make it as they please.”

Iran’s tragedy lies precisely here: its people have made history, but never under conditions of their own choosing.

II. 1953: The Original Sin of Modern Iran

The overthrow of Mohammad Mossadegh in 1953 remains the decisive fracture in Iran’s modern history.

Mossadegh’s nationalization of oil was not radical—it was sovereign. Yet sovereignty itself was intolerable to empire. The intervention by the Central Intelligence Agency was not an anomaly; it was policy.

Noam Chomsky has consistently argued:

“What the United States supports is not democracy, but obedience.”

Iran obeyed—and democracy was restored to dictatorship.

III. The Shah: Authoritarian Modernity as Imperial Design

The regime of Mohammad Reza Pahlavi represents a familiar model in the Global South: development without democracy.

Industrial growth, urban expansion, and Western lifestyles masked a deeper reality—political suffocation. The Shah’s Iran was not modern; it was managed.

This is where Marx’s base-superstructure dialectic becomes visible: economic transformation without corresponding political emancipation produces instability—not progress.

IV. 1979: Revolution or Counter-Revolution?

The Iranian Revolution is often celebrated as a triumph of people’s power. It was—but only momentarily.

The revolution was not defeated from outside; it was appropriated from within.

Under Ruhollah Khomeini, the revolutionary coalition fractured. Clerical authority emerged as the dominant force, marginalizing leftists, liberals, and workers.

Frantz Fanon warned us:

“The national bourgeoisie… turns its back more and more on the interior and on the real problems of the country.”

In Iran, the clerical class performed a similar function—replacing monarchy not with democracy, but with divine authority.

V. The Islamic Republic: Institutionalizing Control

Under Ali Khamenei, the Islamic Republic has perfected the art of controlled dissent.

Elections exist, but power does not circulate. Opposition exists, but does not govern.

The repression of women—justified through culture—is not incidental. It is structural. It is a means of disciplining society itself.

Yet resistance persists. Women removing hijabs. Students defying authority. Workers protesting inequality.

The revolution is not dead—it is contained.

VI. War as Political Technology

The ongoing confrontation between Iran and the US-Israel axis is often framed as security or ideology.

It is neither.

It is political technology.

War performs a function: it reorganizes internal politics.

As soon as external aggression becomes real or imminent:

· The regime becomes the nation

· Dissent becomes treason

· Protest becomes silence

This is not accidental—it is structural.

VII. The Paradox: Imperialism as the Regime’s Ally

Here lies the most uncomfortable truth:

Imperialism does not weaken regimes like Iran—it sustains them.

Every threat from the United States
Every escalation involving Israel

Strengthens the legitimacy of the Iranian state.

The masses, even when oppressed, cannot side with the aggressor.

Thus, they rally—not for the regime, but for sovereignty.

And in doing so, they reinforce the regime.

VIII. The Failure of Regime Change Fantasies

The idea—popularized during the era of Donald Trump—that internal dissent can be weaponised by external pressure is fundamentally flawed.

It misunderstands the psychology of nations under attack.

Fanon again:

“Imperialism leaves behind germs of rot…”

But when imperialism is present—not residual—it becomes the primary enemy.

The people postpone their struggle.

And the regime survives.

IX. After War: The Counter-Revolution Consolidates

When conflict subsides, the damage is already done:

· The regime has gained legitimacy

· The opposition has lost momentum

· Fear replaces political imagination

This is how revolutions die—not in defeat, but in delay.

Iran’s liberal movement does not vanish—but it is pushed back into history.

X. India and Iran: A History Now at Risk

The relationship between India and Iran is not recent—it is civilizational.

From the cultural flows of the Mughal Empire to diplomatic cooperation in the post-colonial era, Iran has been one of India’s most consistent partners in the Islamic world.

Notably, Iran maintained a nuanced stance on Kashmir—rarely aligning with hostile narratives against India.

This mattered.

XI. The Modi Doctrine: Alignment and Alienation

Under Narendra Modi, India’s foreign policy has undergone a decisive shift.

Closer to Washington.
Closer to Tel Aviv.
More distant from Tehran.

This is not ideological—it is strategic.

But strategy has consequences.

India risks losing:

· A historical ally

· A strategic partner in West Asia

· A balancing force in Islamic geopolitics

XII. The Indian Contradiction

Here too, the Marxist contradiction emerges:

· The Indian state aligns with global capital and power

· The Indian people expresses anti-imperialist sentiment

Two trajectories. One nation.

Conclusion: The Dialectic of Defeat

Iran today stands as a lesson—not just for itself, but for the world.

A people who resisted monarchy…
Now contained by theocracy…
And forced to defend it against empire.

This is not failure.
This is contradiction.

And contradiction, as Marx teaches us, is not the end of history—but its engine.

Footnotes

1. The 1953 coup against Mohammad Mossadegh was orchestrated by the Central Intelligence Agency and British intelligence to protect oil interests .

2. The coup reinstated Mohammad Reza Pahlavi, whose rule lasted until the 1979 revolution.

3. The Iranian Revolution led to the establishment of a theocratic state under Ruhollah Khomeini.

4. India and Iran established diplomatic relations in 1950 and have deep historical ties .

5. The alliance between the United States and Israel shapes the geopolitical dynamics of West Asia.

 

Bhagat Singh, After the Applause

The afterlife of a revolutionary mind—and the politics of forgetting

-Ramphal Kataria

 

Abstract

Nearly a century after his execution, Bhagat Singh occupies an uncontested moral high ground in India’s political imagination. He is invoked across ideological divides, appropriated into competing narratives, and ritualized into patriotic memory. Yet, the more he is remembered, the less he is read. This essay revisits Bhagat Singh not as a martyr frozen in time, but as a restless thinker—an ideologue of the Hindustan Socialist Republican Association (HSRA), a critic of religion, a student of Marxism, and an organizer who sought to transform rebellion into a coherent political project. It argues that his afterlife in Indian polity has been shaped less by fidelity to his ideas and more by a systematic erasure of them.

Keywords

Bhagat Singh, Revolutionary Thought, Marxism in India, HSRA, Political Memory, Secularism, Ideology, Nationalism

“Merciless criticism and independent thinking are the two indispensable qualities of a revolutionary.”

— Bhagat Singh

I. The Manufacture of a Martyr

Every year, on 23 March, the Indian state pauses to remember Bhagat Singh. Wreaths are laid, speeches delivered, statues garlanded. Schoolchildren rehearse the familiar lines—Inquilab Zindabad—often without knowing what inquilab meant to the man who raised it.

In this ritualized remembrance, Bhagat Singh is reduced to a moment: the gallows in Lahore Central Jail, the noose, the defiance. What disappears is the long and difficult labour that preceded it—the reading, the writing, the debates, the ideological ruptures.

The transformation is not accidental. It is political.

A martyr is easier to celebrate than a thinker. A dead revolutionary cannot argue back.

II. Reading as Rebellion

Between 1925 and 1928, Bhagat Singh was engaged in an act that rarely finds mention in popular accounts: he was reading—obsessively, methodically, almost urgently. The world he encountered in books was larger than the colonial state he sought to overthrow.

He read about the Russian Revolution, absorbing the writings of Karl Marx and Vladimir Lenin. He read anarchists, socialists, European novelists. His Jail Notebook would later become a testament to this intellectual hunger—fragmented, eclectic, unfinished.

But reading, for Bhagat Singh, was not an indulgence. It was preparation.

“The sword of revolution is sharpened on the whetting stone of ideas.”

This was not rhetoric. It was method.

III. The Shift: From Nationalism to Socialism

The turning point came in 1928. The Hindustan Republican Association was renamed the Hindustan Socialist Republican Association. The insertion of a single word—socialist—marked a decisive ideological shift.

For Bhagat Singh, independence was not an end in itself. It was a means.

He was deeply sceptical of a nationalism that merely replaced British rulers with Indian elites. Political freedom without social and economic transformation, he believed, would reproduce exploitation in new forms.

This placed him at odds not only with the colonial state but also with dominant strands of Indian nationalism, including those led by Mahatma Gandhi.

IV. Violence, Theatre, and the Politics of Attention

The bombing of the Central Legislative Assembly in 1929—carried out with Batukeshwar Dutt—has often been misread as an act of desperation or fanaticism.

It was neither.

The bombs were deliberately non-lethal. The objective was symbolic: to “make the deaf hear.” Bhagat Singh and Dutt did not attempt escape. They surrendered, fully aware of the consequences.

The courtroom became their stage—not merely to defend themselves, but to perform dissent, articulate their politics, and force an empire to listen.

Statements were issued, slogans raised, ideas articulated. The colonial state, in trying to prosecute them, inadvertently amplified their voice.

This was politics by other means—not merely violence, but communication.

V. Writing Against Faith, Writing for Reason

In Why I Am an Atheist, written in 1930, Bhagat Singh undertakes a deeply personal yet politically charged critique of religion.

He rejects the idea that faith is necessary for courage or sacrifice. Instead, he locates strength in reason, in the capacity to confront reality without illusion.

“Any man who stands for progress has to criticize, disbelieve and challenge every item of the old faith.”

This was not a casual declaration. In a deeply religious society, it was a radical stance—one that continues to unsettle.

It is perhaps no coincidence that this text remains marginal in mainstream education.

VI. The Organisation: Debate, Discipline, Direction

Within the HSRA, Bhagat Singh was not merely a participant; he was an organizer of thought.

The organization was not a monolith. It was a site of intense debate:

Should revolution prioritise armed struggle or mass mobilisation?

What role should ideology play in guiding action?

How to relate to the Congress and Gandhian politics?

Bhagat Singh pushed for ideological clarity. He argued that without a coherent framework, revolutionary action would remain episodic, even futile.

He was, in many ways, the mind of the organisation.

VII. The Limits of His Moment

Yet, Bhagat Singh’s intellectual project was unfinished.

Unlike Antonio Gramsci—writing from prison under Benito Mussolini—Bhagat Singh did not have the time to develop a systematic theory of the state, hegemony, or mass politics.

His engagement with Marxism, though intense, remained exploratory. He grasped its ethical and political imperatives but did not fully theorize its application to the complexities of Indian society.

He underestimated, perhaps, the depth of consent that sustained colonial rule—the very terrain on which Gandhi operated with remarkable intuition.

But to judge him by what he did not complete is to ignore what he began.

VIII. Jail: The Final Classroom

Imprisonment transformed Bhagat Singh.

In Lahore Central Jail, he read more, wrote more, thought more. His hunger strike was not merely about prison conditions; it was a political act—a demand for dignity, for recognition as a political prisoner.

His letters from jail reveal a mind that had achieved a rare clarity.

“It is easy to kill individuals but you cannot kill the ideas.”

He knew he would die. He also knew that death would amplify his voice.

IX. After 1931: The Politics of Appropriation

In death, Bhagat Singh became available.

The Indian National Congress celebrated his patriotism but sidestepped his socialism. Left movements claimed his Marxism but often flattened its complexity. Contemporary parties—from the Bharatiya Janata Party to the Aam Aadmi Party—invoke his image, detached from his ideas.

Statues proliferate. Quotations circulate. But his writings remain largely unread.

The radical is domesticated.

X. The Silence of the Syllabus

One of the most telling absences is institutional.

Bhagat Singh’s writings—Why I Am an Atheist, To Young Political Workers, his letters and essays—are rarely part of mainstream curricula. When they are, they are excerpted, sanitized, stripped of context.

Why?

Because his ideas are inconvenient.

His atheism challenges religious orthodoxy.

His socialism questions economic inequality.

His insistence on reason disrupts blind reverence.

To teach Bhagat Singh seriously would be to invite discomfort.

XI. Bhagat Singh as an Unfinished Argument

What remains of Bhagat Singh today is not merely a legacy, but a set of questions:

What does freedom mean beyond the transfer of power?

Can democracy exist without social justice?

What is the role of reason in a society shaped by faith?

These questions are unresolved.

They are also urgent.

“Revolution is not a cult of bomb and pistol.”

— Bhagat Singh

XII. Conclusion: Against Forgetting

Bhagat Singh does not belong to the past.

He belongs to a future that remains unrealized.

To remember him is not to repeat his slogans, but to engage with his thought—to read him, argue with him, extend him.

Until then, he will remain what Indian polity has made him: a figure of reverence, stripped of relevance.

A martyr, without his mind.

Footnotes

1. Bipan Chandra, Introduction to Why I Am an Atheist, contextualises Bhagat Singh as an early Marxist thinker, while cautioning against ideological appropriation of his legacy.

2. Amarjit Chandan is credited with rediscovering Why I Am an Atheist in 1979, significantly reviving scholarly engagement with Bhagat Singh’s writings.

3. Harish Puri critiques the Jail Notebook for its lack of precise citations, noting that many claims about Bhagat Singh’s readings remain speculative.

4. The transformation of the Hindustan Republican Association into the Hindustan Socialist Republican Association (1928) marked a decisive ideological shift towards socialism within the revolutionary movement.

5. Bhagat Singh’s statement—“the sword of revolution is sharpened on the whetting stone of ideas”—was made during proceedings before the Lahore High Court (1930), underscoring his emphasis on intellectual preparation.

6. The Assembly Bombing Case (1929), executed with Batukeshwar Dutt, was consciously designed as a non-lethal political intervention to “make the deaf hear.”

7. Why I Am an Atheist (1930) remains one of the most rigorous critiques of religion produced within the Indian freedom struggle, foregrounding rationalism over faith.

8. Antonio Gramsci’s theory of hegemony, developed in prison under Benito Mussolini, provides a comparative framework to assess Bhagat Singh’s evolving but incomplete engagement with Marxism.

9. Bhagat Singh’s incarceration in Lahore Central Jail (1929–31) marked the most intellectually productive phase of his life, including his hunger strike for political prisoner status.

10. The post-independence appropriation of Bhagat Singh by parties such as the Indian National Congress, Bharatiya Janata Party, and Aam Aadmi Party reflects a selective remembrance that foregrounds his martyrdom while muting his ideological commitments.