By David Jones 13 January 2026
When authoritarian systems begin to fracture, outside observers often reach instinctively for a single, familiar idea: “the alternative.” It is a deeply human reflex, but also a dangerous one. In Iran, as the clerical establishment shows new signs of strain and public anger continues to surface, some voices in the West have begun to flirt with a neat, historically legible solution — the return of the Shah’s son. It may sound simple. It would, in reality, be a profound mistake.
Iran’s tragedy since 1979 is not merely that a monarchy fell, but that one autocracy was replaced by another. The lesson should be clear. Changing the personality at the top is not transformation. What matters is the nature of the state and the source of its legitimacy. Iran does not need a restoration. It needs the foundations of a democratic future.
Supporters of a royal return argue that Reza Pahlavi could serve as a unifying, symbolic figure — perhaps even a constitutional monarch. This misunderstands both Iran’s recent history and the political psychology of revolutions. The last Shah was not a ceremonial ruler. His system was marked by coercion, political exclusion, and the systematic suppression of opposition. However one judges the economic or social changes of that era, the state was not grounded in popular consent but enforced control.
That memory has not evaporated. A restoration project would reopen old wounds, harden unresolved resentments, and fracture an opposition already facing surveillance, infiltration, and intimidation. Worse still, it would hand the clerical establishment a propaganda gift: proof, they would say, that the only alternative to religious rule is the return of dynastic power supported by foreign sympathisers.
Such a narrative would also paralyse Western policy. Governments that might otherwise support a democratic transition would hesitate if the choice were framed as a contest between rival historical myths or alternative strongmen. That hesitation would create a vacuum — and recent history shows that vacuums in collapsing states are rarely filled by moderate democrats.
The West should therefore be clear about what it supports in Iran: not a person, but principles. Not a dynasty, but a democratic programme. Not nostalgia, but a fresh political beginning.
This is where the (NCRI) and its associated movements deserve serious consideration. Their purpose is not to crown an heir, but to articulate a defined democratic transition. Maryam Rajavi’s ten-point plan, whatever debates one may have about the movement itself, at least states openly what a post-theocratic Iran should look like: free and fair elections, political pluralism, freedom of expression, separation of religion and state, equality for women, protection of minorities, an independent judiciary, and the abolition of the death penalty. It also commits Iran to peaceful international relations and a non-nuclear future.
Scrutiny of any opposition movement is healthy. But the strategic question now is simpler and more urgent: if the clerical regime weakens further, what direction of travel will the international community recognise and encourage?
A serious transition policy rests on three principles. First, there can be no bargains with the security apparatus that trade justice for temporary order. Second, there must be no externally imposed settlement — monarchic or otherwise. The Iranian people have earned the right to choose their leaders. Third, Western governments should align themselves explicitly with democratic criteria and judge all transitional actors against them.
Iran stands at an historic threshold. The decisive issue will not be who returns from exile, but whether a new order is built on law, consent, and accountability. The West should not look for a Shah. It should look for the architecture of a democracy.
David Jones is a former MP. He chaired the British Council for Iran Freedom