What just happened—and why does it matter for the IRGC?
In November 2025, Iranians watched two shocking clips circulate in the shadows of the Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps (IRGC)–dominated security state:
- In Tehran’s metro, two men in air-defense–style uniforms unfurled the pre-1979 Lion-and-Sun flag. Metro police quickly arrested them; Iranian media later described their outfits as “imitation army air defence uniforms” and said they were detained for “disrupting public order.”
- Online, a man in uniform identified himself as Iranian Air Force Colonel Ebrahim Aghaei Kamazani from Malayer, called the regime criminal, praised “Shah and Iran,” and declared his defection from the Islamist regime, urging officers to support the command and leadership of Crown Prince Reza Pahlavi and to “rise up on November 25”, according to Iran International’s translation of his speech.
Mainstream outlets like Iran International report him cautiously as “a man identifying himself as Colonel Ebrahim Aghaei Kamazani,” saying they cannot independently verify his military status.
Author Nick Berg, whose novelised survival story Shadows of Tehran is rooted in his real escape from post-revolution Iran and later U.S. Special Operations service, says his trusted sources have confirmed the man is who he claims to be—a colonel with the background he describes.
That doesn’t prove that the IRGC itself is collapsing, but it does force a question:
In a system built around the IRGC, what do one colonel’s defection and one banned flag in uniform really change?
How does the IRGC actually control Iran’s security system?
To understand why these videos sting, you need the basic map of Iran’s armed forces:
What is the IRGC?
The Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps (IRGC) is a parallel armed force created after 1979 to protect the Islamic Revolution. It sits alongside, and often above, the traditional army (Artesh):
- IRGC – ideological guard; runs key internal security, oversees the Basij militia, commands the Quds Force abroad, and controls big chunks of the economy.
- Artesh – the older, conventional national army (ground, air, navy) with a more traditional military culture.
- Basij – IRGC-linked militia used heavily in protest crackdowns and social control.
Human-rights organisations have documented how IRGC units, Basij forces, and other security branches brutally repressed the November 2019 fuel-price protests—killing at least 304 people according to Amnesty’s documented cases, with a later Amnesty dossier naming 321 identified victims (source Amnesty), and a Reuters investigation citing internal figures around 1,500 dead (source Reuters).
During those days, authorities deliberately shut down the internet to hide the true scale of the killings, a move Amnesty calls a planned attempt to conceal unlawful lethal force by Iran’s security forces (source Amnesty).
So when we talk about “cracks in the system”, we’re talking about cracks in a structure that has already proven willing and able to kill its own people at scale.
What really happened in the Tehran metro—and why is the IRGC watching?
What are the facts about the metro incident?
- On 12 November 2025, two men on a Tehran metro platform raised the pre-revolution Lion-and-Sun flag while wearing what looked like air-defence / army uniforms.
- Video posted on social media shows them being detained by metro police shortly afterwards.
- Iran International reports, citing Iranian media, that they were arrested in “army air defense uniforms”.
- Caliber.az, summarising Iranian coverage, says the pair were in imitation air defence uniforms and were detained for “disrupting public order”
- Asharq Al-Awsat notes the same scene: two men in military uniforms carrying a monarchist flag, arrested after the clip went viral.
No names have been released. State-aligned outlets insist the uniforms were fake.
Why does that bother the IRGC even if they’re “just” civilians in costume?
- The uniform is the regime’s visual monopoly on force. Appropriating it in public, with phones out, says: “Your symbols no longer scare us.”
- The Lion-and-Sun flag is strongly associated with the monarchy and today with Reza Pahlavi’s camp. For a moment, that flag stands where the Islamic Republic’s emblems are supposed to rule uncontested.
- For ordinary Iranians, this looks like “someone in uniform is with us”, even if rationally they know it might be a stunt.
For the IRGC hierarchy, the exact service branch almost doesn’t matter: they see uniforms and royalist symbolism sharing the same frame in a public space they control.
That’s a direct attack on the psychological aura that keeps an authoritarian security state intact.
Who is Colonel Ebrahim Aghaei Kamazani, and what does he actually say?
What’s on the colonel’s video?
In the series of Kayhan Life posts across Facebook, X, Instagram, and Threads, the same description appears:
“In a video message, Iranian Air Force Colonel Ebrahim Aghaei Kamazani from Malayer, Hamedan Province, declared his defection from the Islamist regime in Iran and pledged allegiance to Crown Prince Reza Pahlavi. He is calling on other military officers to defect and support the command and leadership of Prince Reza Pahlavi.”
Sources:
Facebook KayhanLife
X KayhanLife
The very same clip is reposted widely outside Kayhan Life’s own pages:
On X, accounts like @ShayanX0 and @ShayanNews share the video, describing Kamazani as an Iranian Army [Artesh] Air Force colonel from Malayer, born in 1980 and trained at Sattari University of Aeronautical Engineering & Air Academy.
Activist Gazelle Sharmahd posts the same footage, highlighting that she “pledges allegiance to Crown Prince Reza Pahlavi as the rightful king of Iran.”
On Instagram and other platforms, reels titled along the lines of “Iranian soldier declares war on ayatollahs” or “Now it’s our turn” reuse the same video and caption text, again identifying him as Colonel Ebrahim Aghaei Kamazani from Malayer who has defected and backs Reza Pahlavi.
Across these posts, the video shows a man in a blue air-force–style uniform who:
- Identifies himself by full name, rank (colonel) and hometown (Malayer, Hamedan Province).
- Denounces the Islamic Republic as an illegitimate, criminal system and explicitly says he is defecting from the Islamist regime.
- States that he pledges allegiance to Reza Pahlavi, invoking Shah-era symbolism (“Long live the Shah; long live Iran”) and calling on other officers to join the people.
In Iran International’s coverage, he appears more cautiously as “a man introducing himself as Colonel Ebrahim Aghaei Kamazani” who calls on Iranians to “rise up on November 25”; the channel notes that it cannot independently verify his current service status in the armed forces.
So, at this point we have:
- Opposition and monarchist networks (Kayhan Life, ShayanX, ShayanNews, activists around Reza Pahlavi) presenting Kamazani’s defection and allegiance to Pahlavi as fact and distributing the same video across platforms.
- A larger exile broadcaster (Iran International) confirming the clip exists and quoting his call to “rise up on November 25,” but clearly stating that his status as a serving colonel has not been independently verified.
- No AP/Reuters/AFP-style neutral wire yet publishing a full biographical profile or official confirmation of his rank.
- No AP/Reuters/AFP-style neutral wire yet publishing a full biographical profile or official confirmation of his rank.
Where does Nick Berg’s confirmation fit in?
Nick Berg has said that his private sources have confirmed the authenticity of the video.
That is not something open sources can prove or disprove, so it should be treated exactly as what it is.
A specific claim based on Berg’s non-public human sources.
Let’s assume Nick Berg is right, that this isn’t an actor in costume or a random agitator: it’s a real Artesh Air Force colonel who chose to burn his bridges on camera, pledge himself to Reza Pahlavi, and call for an uprising date the IRGC can’t ignore.
If a named colonel in uniform tells Iranians to “rise up on November 25”, is that just another viral slogan—or the first serious, on-camera attempt to schedule a revolt from inside the ranks?
And how will the IRGC and the wider security machine respond to a date that’s now pinned, in plain language, to a face, a rank, and Reza Pahlavi’s name?
How dangerous is defection from the Artesh or IRGC?
What do we know about punishment for desertion?
The European Union Agency for Asylum (EUAA) has a January 2025 Country Guidance: Iran, with a specific chapter on “Desertion from armed forces”. (source)
It defines deserters as soldiers who left their post without leave or refused to be called up, and stresses that this profile covers both the regular army (Artesh) and the IRGC (Sepah).
EUAA concludes that:
- Deserters and those encouraging desertion face severe punishment, including imprisonment and ill-treatment.
- In many cases, deserters and people who call on others to desert may have a well-founded fear of persecution, making them eligible for international protection.
When you combine that with the documented pattern of IRGC and other forces using lethal force and torture against protesters, you get a clear picture: standing up in uniform against the regime is not theatre—it’s high-risk behaviour. (source Amnesty).
So if Kamazani is indeed who he says he is, his on-camera defection isn’t just a YouTube moment; it’s practically an invitation for the IRGC and intelligence services to hunt him and anyone associated with him.
What is Reza Pahlavi actually doing with these cracks?
Has Reza Pahlavi really been courting the armed forces?
Yes. For years, Iran’s exiled Crown Prince Reza Pahlavi has aimed his message increasingly at soldiers, police, intelligence officers, and even IRGC members:
- In multiple interviews and speeches, he has urged “military and security forces” not to die for Khamenei’s policies and to stand with the people instead.
- He has repeatedly called on Western governments to designate the IRGC as a terrorist organisation, describing the Guards as the regime’s “main tooth” or core instrument.
In 2025, he went further, announcing a secure channel for officials and officers who want to defect:
- In June 2025, Iran International reported that Reza Pahlavi had launched a secure communication channel for Iranian military, law enforcement, security, and government personnel, accessed via a QR code shown during its live broadcast, so that “trusted” insiders could contact his team.
- The Washington Examiner likewise described him as opening a “platform through which members of the Islamic Republic’s government and military can defect from the regime,” framing it as part of a wider push to encourage elite splits and a future democratic transition.
Does one colonel and one metro flag mean the IRGC is cracking?
Short answer: No, not yet—but they matter.
What do neutral sources say about the IRGC’s overall strength?
Human-rights reports and security studies still describe a cohesive IRGC-centred apparatus that can crush protests and project power abroad, despite public anger.
There is no public evidence of IRGC brigades mutinying or whole units defecting, partly because deserters face severe punishment and often disappear into exile, prison or anonymity, with names withheld and testimonies anonymised—making on-the-record verification almost impossible.
(source Austrian Defence Ministry)
Historically, we know individual insiders have turned against the system, including Nick Berg author of Shadows of Tehran, a US Special Operations veteran, and once upon a time an Iranian soldier:
- In 2007, former IRGC general and deputy defence minister Ali Reza Asgari disappeared in Istanbul; reporting from The Guardian and Reuters described strong indications that he defected to the West, a view later reinforced by intelligence-focused books and investigative pieces.
- The 2021–22 Aban Tribunal in London heard testimony from a former IRGC official and police officers about their role in the 2019 killings, including one officer who described breaking down in tears when ordered to shoot protesters from a rooftop.
Taken together, cases like Ali Reza Asgari’s disappearance and the Aban Tribunal’s anonymous insider testimonies show that IRGC and security officials do sometimes break ranks—but only under extreme risk and deep secrecy, and without collapsing the system.
The 2025 incidents change something more psychological than structural: they don’t prove mutinies or mass defections, but they do show that the regime no longer fully controls how uniforms, flags and ranks appear in public, a real colonel in dress uniform, pledging allegiance to Reza Pahlavi and naming a date for an uprising, is qualitatively different from anonymous Telegram rumours and reminds loyalists in Tehran that the next rupture could start inside their own institutions, not just in the street.
So… is the IRGC still untouchable?
Right now, yes:
- The IRGC remains the core armed pillar of the Iranian regime.
- It still commands lethal force, runs proxies in the wider Iran–Israel conflict, and terrorises civil society.
But the colonel’s video and the metro flag show something important:
- The myth of a perfectly unified security machine is gone.
- A real colonel—if Berg and Kayhan Life are correct—has publicly broken with the Islamic Republic and aligned himself with Reza Pahlavi.
- Two men in uniform, real or fake, dared to raise a royal flag under the cameras in a capital where the IRGC has spilled blood before.
That doesn’t mean a revolution tomorrow.
It means the IRGC’s aura of untouchability is no longer complete—and in authoritarian systems, legitimacy fractures often start in exactly these half-seen, half-deniable acts of defiance.
On pnberg.com, and in the Shadows of Tehran universe, that’s the space Nick Berg works in:
between verified fact and weaponised hope, trying to chart where the IRGC’s shadow ends and where the first cracks of a different Iran are beginning to show.
Read the War Behind the Headlines
If you’ve read this far, you’re already living in the world Shadows of Tehran was written from—IRGC power, quiet defectors, backchannel intel, and the unbearable calculation of when to run and when to resist.
The difference is that in the book you’re not just scrolling headlines, you’re inside it: riding with Ricardo through post-revolution Tehran, feeling the weight of a uniform that no longer fits, and seeing how one decision in the dark can ripple all the way to modern hybrid wars.
If you want to really understand the mindset of the insiders, the smugglers, the “Kamazanis” who never made it to camera, order your copy of Shadows of Tehran now and read the story the news keeps circling around but never fully tells.
