Exploring the Elite’s Dual Lives in Iran and the West
For many years, the Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps and Iran’s ruling clerics have followed a strategy that’s often viewed as both pragmatic and hypocritical. They publicly denounce Western nations while ensuring their families can live comfortably abroad.
“The Iranian regime is fundamentally corrupt,” says Kasra Arabi, who leads research for the Iranian Anti-Nuclear Alliance’s Revolutionary Guards. “While the clerics and commanders push anti-American sentiments, their children enjoy luxurious lives funded by corrupt practices in the West.”
One Iranian journalist, Banafsheh Zand, recalls a schoolmate whose path would later intertwine with significant historical moments. In a prestigious school meant for children of diplomats and Iran’s elite, she remembers a quiet girl who was adept in languages. After years, this classmate resurfaced on global television during the infamous 1979 U.S. Embassy hostage crisis as its English-speaking spokesperson.
Her name was Masoumeh Ebtekar—she not only spoke for the militants holding 52 Americans for over 400 days but also defended the embassy takeover, likening it to the “best possible outcome” for the revolution.
The narrative took another turn years later, showcasing life in California. Ebtekar’s son, Eissa Hashemi, thrived academically in the U.S., a career path starkly different from the ideology his mother once publicly promoted. Zand shares this story not just for irony’s sake but as a lens into how the regime operates.
“These elites exploit their corruption to enhance their lives abroad,” she explains. “It’s a systemic issue.” What Zand identifies resonates deeply in Iran as the “Aghazadeh” phenomenon, denoting the privileged children of regime insiders who impose strictures at home while living luxuriously abroad—often seen as a sharp contrast to the regime’s proclaimed values.
Mehdi Ghadimi, an Iranian journalist in exile, suggests there’s a structured approach behind this trend. “It’s layered,” he states, indicating that individuals connected to the regime integrate into Western society under various disguises, including as students and scholars, all while maintaining ties back to Iran.
He notes there’s often a clear pattern: many enter educational institutions with historical connections to the Revolutionary Guards, aiming to normalize the regime’s presence there.
This two-fold system also includes a financial layer of former regime insiders entering Western markets as investors, often with questionable financial backgrounds. It poses concerns when these individuals start funneling wealth out of Iran under the guise of legitimate business operations.
The most concerning aspect might be the third tier—individuals transferring money internationally under regime approval, which entails a kind of reciprocal agreement with Iranian security services.
Prominent examples highlight this network. For instance, Mahmoud Reza Havari, a figure tied to Iran’s embezzlement scandals, found refuge in Canada, where he maintains a lavish lifestyle—a narrative that echoes throughout the elite’s diaspora.
Zand describes it as a “mafia structure,” underscoring the systemic nature of these operations. Another layer of contradiction arises when members of the regime, like Ali Larijani’s daughter, attempt lives in the West while their parents continue to promote an anti-Western agenda back home.
Zand argues this hypocrisy isn’t merely an irony but a tactic for maintaining influence within Western societies. “They shape societal narratives while living entirely different lives outside Iran,” she asserts.
Meanwhile, calls for better responses from Western governments grow louder. Alabi, a critic of the regime, believes that treating regime insiders as equals to other authoritarian oligarchs is essential. “They need to be sanctioned, identified, and when necessary, deported,” he suggests.
