Nationalism Rising in Iran After the 12-Day War
The Iranian government has embarked on an ambitious campaign to restore confidence and project unity through revived nationalism and the glorification of ancient Persian symbols.
In the aftermath of the 12-Day War between Iran and Israel, the Iranian government has embarked on an ambitious campaign to restore confidence and project unity through revived nationalism and the glorification of ancient Persian symbols. The conflict, which left both Iran and Israel battered and Iran’s leadership exposed to internal criticism, appears to have accelerated a cultural and ideological shift inside the Islamic Republic — away from its long-standing revolutionary and religious rhetoric and toward an emphasis on civilizational pride rooted in pre-Islamic heritage.
At the heart of this new nationalist wave stands the campaign titled “You Will Kneel Before Iran Again,” launched by Tehran Municipality shortly before the anniversary of the 1979 U.S. Embassy takeover on 13 Aban. The campaign culminated on 6 November 2025 with the installation of a monumental bronze sculpture in Enghelab (Revolution) Square — a modern replica of the Naqsh-e Rostam relief showing the Sasanian king Shapur I receiving the surrender of the Roman emperor Valerian, who kneels before him. The capture of Valerian in 260 CE represented the only time a Roman Emperor was captured by an enemy in battle, and represents both an enduring blow to Roman pride and triumph for Persia under the Sassanid dynasty that still echoes today.
For several days leading up to the unveiling, multiple state and municipal institutions promoted the event through billboards, concerts, and televised segments. The closing ceremony, featuring performances by several pop singers, drew crowds to the heart of Tehran, as officials framed the unveiling as a moment of national pride following the war with Israel.
Across the capital, the campaign was inescapable. Gigantic banners bearing the slogan “Kneel Before Iran Again” appeared on main avenues and even in front of the British Embassy. A truck equipped with a massive digital screen toured the city, displaying animated scenes of Valerian kneeling before Shapur I with the same defiant caption. In Shiraz, a billboard went further by replacing Valerian’s face with that of Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu, casting him as the defeated emperor before the Persian monarch. Around the same time, horsemen dressed as ancient Persian soldiers paraded through Tehran’s streets, prompting both admiration and mockery on social media.
The use of ancient imagery was not limited to this campaign. Following the Israeli attack and the ensuing 12-Day War, Iranian state media flooded the public sphere with heroic national motifs. Images of Achaemenid soldiers, the archer Arash, and the mythic hero Rostam appeared across television programs and official posters. Just days before the war erupted, the municipality had unveiled a statue of Arash the Archer in Vanak Square — an act many Iranians described as “belated nationalism,” suggesting that the regime had rediscovered patriotism only when facing crisis. Yet even among government critics, some welcomed the shift as a long-overdue acknowledgment of Iran’s deep historical roots.
The nationalist turn also extended to cultural events. One of the most controversial examples was the planned free concert by vocalist Homayoun Shajarian in Azadi Square, envisioned as a symbol of unity and cultural revival. Despite support from a senior official in President Pezeshkian’s administration, the concert was abruptly canceled after intense backlash both inside and outside Iran — a reminder of how tightly the state continues to control cultural expression, even while promoting national pride.
Reactions to the “Kneel Before Iran” campaign revealed deep divisions within Iranian society. Supporters of the Islamic Republic hailed it as a “historic reminder to Iran’s enemies”, celebrating it as proof that Iran’s civilization remains unbowed. Detractors countered that the government’s embrace of pre-Islamic imagery exposed its ideological inconsistency, arguing that after half a century, the Islamic Republic has been forced to change its narrative and kneel before Iran’s nationalism.
Analysts view this campaign as a deliberate effort by Iran’s rulers to shore up the regime’s legitimacy. For more than four decades, the Islamic Republic derived its authority from revolutionary Islam, anti-imperialism, and Shiite identity. After the 12-Day War, that formula appeared fragile: the conflict revealed military vulnerabilities, social frustration, and waning ideological conviction. Turning to nationalism offers the leadership a new emotional anchor — one that unites secular patriots and religious loyalists under the broader concept of an eternal Iranian civilization. By invoking Shapur I, the regime seeks to present itself not merely as heir to 1979 but to 2,500 years of Persian endurance.
This pivot carries contradictions. The same government that once condemned royal symbolism and erased Pahlavi-era monuments is now reproducing imperial imagery in the heart of the capital. The fusion of revolutionary Islam with ancient Persian glory may appeal to urban audiences yearning for dignity, but it also risks alienating clerical supporters and non-Persian minorities who feel excluded from a narrowly Persian narrative. Moreover, critics warn that decorative nationalism cannot solve Iran’s structural crises — from economic stagnation to political repression.
Still, the symbolism is powerful. The statue of Shapur I towering over a kneeling emperor in Revolution Square compresses centuries of history into a single image of dominance and survival. It tells Iranians that their nation, even when wounded, stands above its adversaries — that civilizations, not wars, define destiny. In this sense, the statue and its surrounding campaign represent the government’s attempt to appeal to a broader base of support amid intense U.S. and Israeli pressure.
Whether this new attempt to rally nationalist sentiment will endure or fade remains uncertain. It may bolster short-term unity and pride, but unless matched by tangible improvements in governance and freedom, it risks becoming another spectacle of grandeur masking insecurity. What is clear is that after the 12-Day War, the Islamic Republic has entered a new ideological phase — one where ancient kings, mythic heroes, and imperial echoes now share the stage with revolutionary martyrs and clerics, all enlisted to tell a single story: that Iran will never kneel.
