TEHRAN, Iran — In the shadow of escalating conflict with the United States and Israel, Iran's urban landscapes are undergoing a subtle yet profound transformation. What was once a battleground of quiet defiance against the Islamic Republic's strict social controls has now become a stage for organized displays of regime loyalty, as pro-government forces reclaim public spaces left vacant by a wary civilian population. According to Saeid Golkar, a political science professor at the University of Tennessee at Chattanooga and senior advisor at United Against Nuclear Iran, this shift marks a critical moment in Iran's postrevolutionary history, where the streets of Tehran and other major cities are being reshaped by the very forces that once struggled to maintain dominance.
The changes began intensifying since the start of the U.S.-Israeli war, though exact timelines remain tied to the broader regional tensions that erupted in recent months. Golkar, writing in Foreign Policy on May 7, 2026, describes how the Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps (IRGC) and its affiliated Basij militia have mobilized supporters into the streets. These groups, often numbering from small clusters to larger crowds, traverse neighborhoods in Tehran, Isfahan, and Mashhad, chanting anti-American slogans, reciting verses from the Quran, and organizing what Golkar calls 'mobile rallies.' Vehicles equipped with loudspeakers blare cries of 'Heydar, Heydar,' invoking Imam Ali, the first Shiite Imam, as a symbol of defiance and faith.
These gatherings extend beyond mere protests; they resemble festivals of loyalty. In public squares and along main roads, IRGC displays have included showcases of missiles purportedly ready for launch, surrounded by flag-waving crowds that sometimes engage in collective prayers right beside the weaponry. 'The events are a symbolic show of strength and defiance,' Golkar writes, 'but they also connect directly to a broader shift on the ground.' Such spectacles, reported in residential districts and urban thoroughfares, aim to project an image of unyielding regime control amid the chaos of war.
Complementing these rallies are heightened security measures that have further altered daily life. Basij forces and police have established checkpoints throughout cities, where they inspect vehicles and, in numerous instances, scrutinize individuals' cellphones for anti-regime content. Detentions and beatings have followed discoveries of dissenting messages or social media posts, according to Golkar's analysis. This environment of surveillance has instilled fear, particularly among critics of the government, leading many ordinary Iranians to avoid outdoor activities, especially after dark when the rallies peak.
The withdrawal of civilians from public areas has created a vacuum that pro-regime elements are quick to fill. Golkar notes that Israeli and U.S. advisories urging civilians to stay indoors during potential strikes have amplified this trend, resulting in streets that were once vibrant with everyday defiance now echoing with organized chants. 'Frustrated by these shows and the disruptions they create, and scared of the Basij patrols and checkpoints, Iranians are retreating to their homes as a safe space,' he explains. This reversal undoes decades of gradual social evolution in Iran's urban centers.
To understand the significance, one must look back to the 1979 Islamic Revolution, when the new republic imposed stringent Islamic regulations on public life. In the early years, even minor infractions like wearing jeans or short-sleeved shirts could draw the ire of moral police patrolling the streets. Over time, however, the regime's grip on social spaces weakened, particularly in cities. Without overt organization or confrontation, ordinary Iranians engaged in what sociologist Asef Bayat terms 'quiet encroachment' — small, everyday acts that reshaped public norms.
Bayat's concept, central to Golkar's reporting, highlights how dispersed actions can drive social change. Iranian women, for instance, subtly pushed back against the compulsory hijab, starting with looser coverings and escalating after the 2022 Woman, Life, Freedom protests to openly forgoing the headscarf in public. Mixed-gender interactions flourished in cafes, parks, and streets, defying formal restrictions. Even the visibility of pets, especially dogs — long stigmatized and restricted by the regime — increased, signaling a broader cultural shift away from revolutionary ideology toward mundane, personal freedoms.
Meanwhile, regime loyalists and conservative religious communities had increasingly withdrawn to insulated enclaves. Neighborhoods like Khayaban-e Iran and Hedayat in central Tehran, or townships such as Shahrak-e Mahallati, became havens for Basij members, IRGC families, and ideological adherents. These areas, along with regime-affiliated schools, cafes, restaurants, and hotels enforcing strict dress and behavior codes, served as self-contained worlds. 'Most Iranians have not been welcomed in these places,' Golkar observes, either due to legal barriers or the discomfort of rigid norms. Outside these zones, urban Iran had grown more contested, with ordinary citizens molding spaces to their will.
The war's onset has upended this dynamic. With populations hunkering down, pro-regime groups have surged back into the fray. Their organized presence — chants filling the air, patrols enforcing compliance — signals not just visibility but domination. Golkar argues this is deliberate: 'By bringing its supporters back into the streets in a visible and organized way, the state is trying to reimpose a social order that had been gradually weakened.'
This street-level reclamation dovetails with deeper institutional changes. Analyses since the war's start have emphasized the IRGC's rising dominance within the state apparatus, a trend Golkar confirms as accurate but incomplete without considering public spaces. The regime, increasingly reliant on coercion and loyalty, requires a tangible social footprint to bolster its authority. Control over who occupies the streets — and how — shapes perceptions of legitimacy and power.
For everyday Iranians, the implications are stark. Public life, already curtailed, faces further constriction. What was once a subtle form of resistance — simply being out and about on one's terms — is now supplanted by displays of fealty. Golkar warns that this could shrink the already limited arenas for expression, pushing dissent further underground.
On a political scale, the shift complicates narratives of regime fragility. 'What we are seeing is not the collapse of the Islamic Republic but rather the regime becoming more centralized, more insulated, and more dependent on a smaller but more active core of supporters,' Golkar states. The social base of the government, though narrow, gains prominence under wartime conditions, fortifying its position through both institutional and spatial means.
Experts outside Golkar's purview echo elements of this transformation, though details vary. Reports from other outlets, such as those tracking regional conflicts, note increased IRGC activity but focus less on urban sociology. For instance, some analyses highlight Iran's unified front against external threats, with officials deepening ties among themselves and the public. Yet, Golkar's emphasis on spatial control stands out as a unique lens, underscoring how the war extends beyond battlefields to the very fabric of city life.
Looking ahead, the trajectory remains uncertain. As long as the U.S.-Israeli war persists, with its attendant advisories and security escalations, Iran's streets may continue handing control back to the regime. Whether this proves temporary or heralds a lasting reassertion of ideological dominance will depend on the conflict's resolution and the resilience of those quiet encroachments that once defined urban Iran. For now, the chants of 'Heydar, Heydar' resonate as a reminder that in Tehran, the war is being waged not just in the skies, but on the ground where daily life unfolds.
In related coverage, Foreign Policy has explored how the conflict has unified Iranian leadership and why Tehran shows no signs of yielding to pressures like oil blockades. These threads weave into a larger tapestry of a nation adapting — or reverting — under duress.