The missiles struck Tehran at dawn on Saturday. By the end of the day, the supreme leader was confirmed dead, along with several senior military officials, as images of burning headquarters and celebrating crowds ricocheted across social media.
Europe’s response? An emergency meeting scheduled for Monday.
If European Commission President Ursula von der Leyen thought her decision to convene a “special Security College” would project decisive leadership, she was mistaken. The timing underscores a familiar European dilemma: when events move at military speed, Brussels still operates at a bureaucratic pace. Forty-eight hours can be an eternity in a power vacuum – especially in a hyper-centralized system whose fulcrum has just been removed.
The decapitation of Iran’s leadership has done more than eliminate individuals. It has ruptured the chain of command that underpinned the Islamic Republic’s internal order and external posture. The supreme leader was not merely a figurehead; he was the final arbiter among rival factions, the ideological anchor of the state, and the ultimate commander of its coercive apparatus. With him gone – and with several senior military officials reportedly killed – the regime’s architecture is under visible strain.
Reports from Tehran describe chaos and anxiety among the repression forces. Trust between commanders and rank-and-file units appears to be fraying. Officers who once enforced discipline with confidence are said to be questioning whether their superiors have contingency plans – or exit strategies. In authoritarian systems, the perception of abandonment can corrode loyalty faster than any external strike.
Particularly significant have been direct hits on security headquarters in the capital, including facilities associated with the Special Units of the Law Enforcement Command, known by their Persian acronym FARAJA. These units have long been the regime’s domestic firewall. Structured to operate across three tiers – routine order maintenance, irregular emergencies, and large-scale unrest – FARAJA’s brigades, including “Amir al-Momenin” and “Imam Hossein,” were designed for speed, coordination, and intimidation.
Over recent years, they refined tactics built around motorcycle battalions and light armored vehicles, enabling rapid deployment into protest zones. Their purpose was straightforward: prevent dissent from coalescing into momentum. If their headquarters and senior leadership have indeed been significantly degraded, the impact is as psychological as it is operational. Such units depend on hierarchy. Disruption at the top invites hesitation below.
The regular army, the Artesh, appears to have been less directly targeted in the initial wave. Yet increasing reports of desertions are emerging. That development is strategically consequential. The Islamic Republic has historically relied more heavily on ideologically vetted formations to guarantee regime survival. The Artesh was professional but never fully trusted. If its personnel now perceive that the regime’s survival is uncertain, neutrality – or quiet defection – becomes a rational calculation.
Europe’s strategic calculus
Public reaction has compounded the regime’s vulnerability. Celebrations have reportedly broken out in parts of Tehran and in diaspora communities abroad. Such scenes challenge the central narrative of inevitability that sustains authoritarian rule. Fear, once punctured, can dissipate rapidly. The sight of citizens gathering rather than dispersing sends a signal not only to the public but to wavering security officers.
For Europe, the strategic implications are immediate. The Islamic Republic has invested heavily in long-range missile capabilities that place European capitals within potential reach. It has edged steadily towards nuclear weapons capacity. It has armed Russia in its war against Ukraine. It has supported proxy actors that threaten maritime trade routes critical to European economies. Tehran has been an active security concern, not a distant ideological adversary.
A post-theocratic Iran – particularly one aligned with democratic norms and Western institutions – would alter Europe’s geopolitical landscape. Missile threats could recede. Nuclear brinkmanship might give way to transparency. The Russia–Iran military axis could fracture. Energy markets might stabilize under less politicized management. For a Europe striving to assert strategic autonomy, the opportunity is significant.
But so are the risks. Regime collapse in a nation of 90 million people could unleash factional struggles, economic dislocation and refugee flows. Hardline remnants within the security services may attempt to consolidate power under emergency rule. Nationalist narratives could gain traction, framing external actors as opportunistic meddlers.
Power vacuum
This is why the optics of a Monday meeting matter. Power vacuums are filled quickly. In the hours after the strikes, opposition figures were already positioning themselves, calling for transitional councils and democratic elections. They argue that, unlike in previous waves of unrest, a coordinated leadership is prepared to step in. Whether that claim is fully realized remains uncertain. What is certain is that the window for external influence narrows as events on the ground accelerate.
Von der Leyen’s meeting will need to move beyond expressions of concern. Europe must articulate principles clearly and early – support for civilian protection, insistence on territorial integrity, and readiness to engage with credible democratic actors. It must prepare humanitarian contingencies and coordinate with regional partners to contain spillover. And it must communicate directly to the Iranian people that Europe’s interest lies in stability and self-determination, not opportunism.
History offers cautionary tales of regimes that survived apparent decapitation. Security elites, fearing retribution in a post-regime order, can rally with ruthless efficiency. Yet history also shows that when the central pillar of a personalized system is removed, the structure rarely returns to its previous equilibrium.
The missiles struck at dawn on Saturday. When Commission leaders gather around polished tables in Brussels on Monday, the question is whether they will be reacting to events that have already outrun them – or shaping a moment that may not come again.
See the original of this opinion piece for Euractiv by Matthew Karnitschnig here.