Sistani and Khamenei: The Kid Glove and the Iron Fist

Iran's Supreme Leader Ayatollah Ali Khamenei speaks at the Hussayniyeh of Imam Khomeini in Tehran, Iran, August 13, 2018. Official Khamenei website/Handout via REUTERS
Iran's Supreme Leader Ayatollah Ali Khamenei speaks at the Hussayniyeh of Imam Khomeini in Tehran, Iran, August 13, 2018. Official Khamenei website/Handout via REUTERS
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Sistani and Khamenei: The Kid Glove and the Iron Fist

Iran's Supreme Leader Ayatollah Ali Khamenei speaks at the Hussayniyeh of Imam Khomeini in Tehran, Iran, August 13, 2018. Official Khamenei website/Handout via REUTERS
Iran's Supreme Leader Ayatollah Ali Khamenei speaks at the Hussayniyeh of Imam Khomeini in Tehran, Iran, August 13, 2018. Official Khamenei website/Handout via REUTERS

With the latest nationwide protests in Iran -the second in less than a year- dominating the headlines, other significant developments there may not attract the attention they deserve.

One such development concerns the Shiite clergy facing what could be the biggest challenge it has faced since its formation in the 16th century.

Because many members of the ruling elite in the Islamic Republic wear clerical clothes, complete with black or white turbans, and sport mandatory beards, outside observers often assume that the Shiite clergy as an institution rules Iran. A closer look, however, may show that such a view is more due to an optic illusion than to reality.

According to best estimates, Iran, India, and Iraq, which together account for almost 80 percent of all Shiites, are home to some 400,000 clerics, most of them Iranians or boasting some Iranian background. And, yet, only a fraction is involved with the Islamic Republic in Tehran.

The Islamic Republic employs an estimated 25,000 clerics in Iran and finances a further 10,000 clerics in Iraq, Lebanon, Syria, Afghanistan, India, Pakistan, and several other African and Asian countries. In Iran, the largest corps of mullahs on government payroll is made of the 3600 Friday Prayer Leaders’ network, all appointed by “Supreme Guide” Ayatollah Ali Khamenei. Also appointed and financed by Khamenei is a nine-ayatollah “Council of Fatwa” in Qom that includes such prominent figures as Ayatollah Nasser Makarem Shirazi. The Islamic Republic also controls and finances the “Howzeh Elmieh “ (Scientific Circle) in Qom, head by Ayatollah Muhammad Yazdi.

And, yet, the bulk of the clergy in Iran has managed to maintain much of its traditional independence from political power.

According to estimates by Hassan Khalkhali, a prominent researcher of clerical issues, as far as the number of followers (muqalledin) is concerned state-appointed clerics represent no more than 10 percent of the “flock”.

More than 90 percent of Iranians who still pay “khoms” and “sahm e Imam”, that is to say, informal taxes to clerics, direct their money at mullahs as far away from the state as possible in Iran’s present circumstances.

According to sources in Qom, Grand Ayatollah Ali Muhammad Sistani, a prominent Iranian cleric living in Najaf, Iraq, and acknowledged as the current “Marja’a Taqlid” (Source of Emulation) receives more than half of all “donations” made in Iran, in turn re-cycling them through over 150 business enterprises and charities.

All this means that the late Ayatollah Ruhallah Khomeini dream of a fusion of religion and state in Iran has not been achieved. The Islamic Republic he found has quickly reverted to the original Safavid model in which the Shiite clergy played a prominent role while ultimate political power rested with the ruler.

Under Khomeini and Khamenei, the role of the ruler is played by a cleric who, nevertheless, is unable to claim supremacy in religious matters.

Being one of the top 20 ayatollahs then in circulation in his time, Khomeini was “Marja’a taqlid” for many believers in parts of Iran but never achieved the supremacy that grand ayatollahs such as Abol-Hassan Isfahani or Muhammad Hussein Borujerdi had reached in their respective eras.

Today, Khamenei’s status as a pretender to “marjaiyah” is even more dubious.

According to Kazem Assar, a leading authority on Shiite clerical matters, the “Marj’a” should fulfill five conditions.

The first is that he should be a descendant of Fatimah, daughter of the Prophet. The second is that he should be of Iranian background and nationality. The third is that he should be fluent in both Persian and Arabic. Fourth, the would-be “Marja’a” should have published a “risalah” (dissertation) attesting to his scholarship. Finally, he should be recognized, at least implicitly, by a number of grand ayatollahs as primus inter pares (first among equals).

Khamenei fulfills the first three conditions, but is nowhere near achieving the last two.

His entourage spread rumors that he has put final touches to his “risalah’ which will be out soon. People close to Khamenei’s circle say his “risalah” is ready, but afraid of possible criticism, he keeps postponing full publication. The same fear has prevented him from publishing collections of his poems composed over more than half a century but known only to a handful of confidants.

He also receives flattering messages from ayatollahs he pays in Qom and elsewhere but is never acknowledged as “first among equals.” This last point has caused him some problems.

For example, he cannot travel to Najaf, Iraq, the “holiest” city of Shi’ism because if he goes there he cannot do without seeing Sistani and the two or three other grand ayatollahs resident there. However, it is unlikely that Sistani and possibly the other grand ayatollahs would agree to go to wherever Khamenei is staying in Najaf because that would mean acknowledging him as their superior.

In contrast, if Khamenei goes to Sistani’s house, for example, it would mean relinquishing his claim of being the leader of Shi’ism or, as the Constitution of his republic claims, of the “Islamic Ummah” as a whole.

Similar considerations have prevented Sistani from traveling to Iran.

Before Khomeini seized power in 1979, Sistani used to travel to Iran every year for pilgrimages to Qom and his own native city of Mashhad. He had to end that tradition because if he went to Iran he would have to call on Khomeini or Khamenei, thus acknowledging them as superiors. At the same time if he ignored them, and they did not come to call on him, that could signal a major clerical schism.

Meanwhile, a new generation of clerics is emerging in Qom and Najaf that, provided religion remains a key factor in society, are likely to put as much blue water between themselves and Khomeini’s world vision as possible. For example, Grand Ayatollah Muhammad Jawad Alavi Borujerdi who, while maintaining polite relations with Khamenei, is slowly tracing a completely different path for the community.

The top four grand ayatollahs in Najaf and the nine officially sanctioned ones in Qom are in their 80s. And Khamenei himself is knocking on the door of his ninth decade. All of which means the current Shiite clerical hierarchy cannot be regarded as a long-term structure.

The creation of the Islamic Republic was an “innovation” (bed’ah) bound to be rejected by Shiite religious tradition. It was an attempt at the fusion of political and religious powers, something anathema to the original Safavid model. In the past four decades, it has divided Shiism into two realities: one religious, the other political, trying to co-exist but not without difficulty.

As a political reality, Shiism is today headed by Khamenei controls a major country and, despite current cash-flow problems, significant financial and economic resources. That reality can buy political support in many centers while also financing parallel armies and mercenary parties in Iraq, Lebanon, Syria, Yemen, Gaza and elsewhere. Yet, it cannot win authority on religious grounds. Even in Lebanon where the Islamic Republic has spent over $ 20 billion in the past decades, the overwhelming majority of Shiites look to Najaf and Qom, not Tehran, for religious guidance.

The way Sistani and Khamenei have reacted to the current political turmoil in Iraq and Iran highlights the politico-theological schizophrenia hat inflicts Shiism today. Sistani takes the side of the protesters, counseling kid-gloves treatment by the authorities, because he aims to maintain links with the community. Khamenei counsels the iron fist method because he wants to prolong the political status quo.



To Get Their Own Cash, People in Gaza Must Pay Middlemen a 40% Cut

A destroyed branch of the Bank of Palestine in the Tal al-Hawa neighborhood of Gaza City is seen Wednesday, July 9, 2025. (AP)
A destroyed branch of the Bank of Palestine in the Tal al-Hawa neighborhood of Gaza City is seen Wednesday, July 9, 2025. (AP)
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To Get Their Own Cash, People in Gaza Must Pay Middlemen a 40% Cut

A destroyed branch of the Bank of Palestine in the Tal al-Hawa neighborhood of Gaza City is seen Wednesday, July 9, 2025. (AP)
A destroyed branch of the Bank of Palestine in the Tal al-Hawa neighborhood of Gaza City is seen Wednesday, July 9, 2025. (AP)

Cash is the lifeblood of the Gaza Strip’s shattered economy, and like all other necessities in this war-torn territory — food, fuel, medicine — it is in extremely short supply.

With nearly every bank branch and ATM inoperable, people have become reliant on an unrestrained network of powerful cash brokers to get money for daily expenses and commissions on those transactions have soared to about 40%.

"The people are crying blood because of this," said Ayman al-Dahdouh, a school director living in Gaza City. "It’s suffocating us, starving us."

At a time of surging inflation, high unemployment and dwindling savings, the scarcity of cash has magnified the financial squeeze on families — some of whom have begun to sell their possessions to buy essential goods.

The cash that is available has even lost some of its luster. Palestinians use the Israeli currency, the shekel, for most transactions. Yet with Israel no longer resupplying the territory with newly printed bank notes, merchants are increasingly reluctant to accept frayed bills.

Gaza’s punishing cash crunch has several root causes, experts say.

To curtail Hamas’ ability to purchase weapons and pay its fighters, Israel stopped allowing cash to enter Gaza at the start of the war. Around the same time, many wealthy families in Gaza withdrew their money from banks and then fled the territory. And rising fears about Gaza’s financial system prompted foreign businesses selling goods into the territory to demand cash payments.

As Gaza’s money supply dwindled and civilians’ desperation mounted, cash brokers' commissions — around 5% at the start of the war — skyrocketed.

Someone needing cash transfers money electronically to a broker and moments later is handed a fraction of that amount in bills. Many brokers openly advertise their services, while others are more secretive. Some grocers and retailers have also begun exchanging cash for their customers.

"If I need $60, I need to transfer $100," said Mohammed Basheer al-Farra, who lives in southern Gaza after being displaced from Khan Younis. "This is the only way we can buy essentials, like flour and sugar. We lose nearly half of our money just to be able to spend it."

In 2024, inflation in Gaza surged by 230%, according to the World Bank. It dropped slightly during the ceasefire that began in January, only to shoot up again after Israel backed out of the truce in March.

Cash touches every aspect of life in Gaza

About 80% of people in Gaza were unemployed at the end of 2024, according to the World Bank, and the figure is likely higher now. Those with jobs are mostly paid by direct deposits into their bank accounts.

But "when you want to buy vegetables, food, water, medication -- if you want to take transportation, or you need a blanket, or anything — you must use cash," al-Dahdouh said.

Shahid Ajjour’s family has been living off of savings for two years after the pharmacy and another business they owned were ruined by the war.

"We had to sell everything just to get cash," said Ajjour, who sold her gold to buy flour and canned beans. The family of eight spends the equivalent of $12 every two days on flour; before the war, that cost less than $4.

Sugar is very expensive, costing the equivalent of $80-$100 per kilogram (2.2 pounds), multiple people said; before the war, that cost less than $2.

Gasoline is about $25 a liter, or roughly $95 a gallon, when paying the lower, cash price.

Bills are worn and unusable

The bills in Gaza are tattered after 21 months of war.

Money is so fragile, it feels as if it is going to melt in your hands, said Mohammed al-Awini, who lives in a tent camp in southern Gaza.

Small business owners said they were under pressure to ask customers for undamaged cash because their suppliers demand pristine bills from them.

Thaeir Suhwayl, a flour merchant in Deir al-Balah, said his suppliers recently demanded he pay them only with brand new 200-shekel ($60) bank notes, which he said are rare. Most civilians pay him with 20-shekel ($6) notes that are often in poor condition.

On a recent visit to the market, Ajjour transferred the shekel equivalent of around $100 to a cash broker and received around $50 in return. But when she tried to buy some household supplies from a merchant, she was turned away because the bills weren’t in good condition.

"So the worth of your $50 is zero in the end," she said.

This problem has given rise to a new business in Gaza: money repair. It costs between 3 and 10 shekels ($1-$3) to mend old bank notes. But even cash repaired with tape or other means is sometimes rejected.

People are at the mercy of cash brokers

After most of the banks closed in the early days of the war, those with large reserves of cash suddenly had immense power.

"People are at their mercy," said Mahmoud Aqel, who has been displaced from his home in southern Gaza. "No one can stop them."

The war makes it impossible to regulate market prices and exchange rates, said Dalia Alazzeh, an expert in finance and accounting at the University of the West of Scotland. "Nobody can physically monitor what’s happening," Alazzeh said.

A year ago, the Palestine Monetary Authority, the equivalent of a central bank for Gaza and the West Bank, sought to ease the crisis by introducing a digital payment system known as Iburaq. It attracted half a million users, or a quarter of the population, according to the World Bank, but was ultimately undermined by merchants insisting on cash.

Israel sought to ramp up financial pressure on Hamas earlier this year by tightening the distribution of humanitarian aid, which it said was routinely siphoned off by militants and then resold.

Experts said it is unclear if the cash brokers’ activities benefit Hamas, as some Israeli analysts claim.

The war has made it more difficult to determine who is behind all sorts of economic activity in the territory, said Omar Shabaan, director of Palthink for Strategic Studies, a Gaza-based think tank.

"It's a dark place now. You don't know who is bringing cigarettes into Gaza," he said, giving just one example. "It's like a mafia."

These same deep-pocketed traders are likely the ones running cash brokerages, and selling basic foodstuffs, he said. "They benefit by imposing these commissions," he said.

Once families run out of cash, they are forced to turn to humanitarian aid.

Al-Farra said that is what prompted him to begin seeking food at an aid distribution center, where it is common for Palestinians to jostle over one other for sacks of flour and boxes of pasta.

"This is the only way I can feed my family," he said.