The complicated reality of life in Iran’s most notorious military force, the IRGC

When news of the Iranian strikes on Israel reached an Islamic Revolutionary Guards Corps (IRGC) base in the southeastern city of Zahedan, soldiers poured outside to celebrate.

As he witnessed his comrades’ euphoria, 24-year-old Abdul Naseri (a pseudonym has been used to protect his identity) was gripped with a different emotion.

“They were chanting ‘leader, we are ready, we are ready’ and a commander even brought sweets, saying ‘with the hope of liberating Palestine’ as he distributed them among us,” he said by telephone from his checkpoint.

“I’m scared now. The commander told us we should get ready. I don’t want to go to war with any country. All I want is to live and have a safe life,” he said.

His fears are not unfounded.

If Israel chooses to retaliate for Iran’s April 14 rocket attack by striking targets inside Iran, it is IRGC facilities and the men serving on them that will likely be at the top of the target list.

And low-ranking members of the IRGC have been left in no doubt that war is a real possibility.

Movement of heavy weaponry, including missiles and tanks, was also seen in the western part of the capital Tehran on Monday night following reports of an imminent retaliation strike by Israel.

Ahmad Rezaei (also a pseudonym), another conscript in southern Bushehr, said he received a call from his base the same day, asking him to return to duty, despite having secured two weeks of leave to care for his ailing mother.

“He didn’t explain why I needed to end my leave early. I still have five days left, and my mother is very ill,” he told The Telegraph.

“We all know what the IRGC does in the region and if someone dares to respond we should just accept and try to answer by our guys in the region,” he added.

“We fought for years in Syria and Iraq against ISIS so we do not fight against them in Tehran and Isfahan, I do not know what goes through the commanders’ minds, they’re needlessly bringing a war to us now,” he added.

The less-than-enthusiastic feelings among the rank and file reflect the complicated reality of life in Iran’s most notorious military force.

Founded after the 1979 Islamic Revolution to defend the new regime from internal dissent and balance the power of the formerly royalist armed forces, the IRGC, also known as the Sepah, is often portrayed as a single entity.

But over the decades it has grown into a bloated, multi-departmental bureaucracy with a massive imprint on Iran’s military, economy and, to an increasing degree, wider society.

“It is like a political party and a militia at the same time,” explained Arash Azizi, a historian at Clemson University and author of a book about Qassem Soleimani, the IRGC general assassinated by a US drone strike in 2020.

“It is a sprawling organisation that is united by [Supreme leader Ali] Khamenei at the top, but its very different factions have very different goals and follow very different ends.”

Besides its military role, the IRGC runs domestic news agencies and has very large commercial interests, including in telecoms, construction, and oil. Mr Azizi estimates around 60 per cent of the Iranian economy is in some way connected to the corps.

Its veterans have prominent political positions - the most well-known being Mohammad Bagher Ghalibaf, the current speaker of parliament and a former commander of the IRGC air force - and it is basically in charge of foreign policy in the Middle East.

Tellingly, the Swiss chargé d’affaires, who represents the United States in Tehran, was summoned not to the foreign ministry but to IRGC headquarters following the April 14 attack.

At the bottom of the organisation are men like Mr Rezaei and Mr Naseri.

All Iranian men who come of age at 18 are required to fulfil 21 months of compulsory military service in either the Iranian army or the IRGC.

Typically, the general staff of the armed forces of Iran determines the assignment of individuals.

But in practice, many young men find ways to get into the IRGC because it has a reputation for better pay and conditions than the official Iranian army, said Holly Dagres, a senior fellow at the Atlantic Council and curator of the Iranist, a weekly newsletter on Iranian current affairs.

That is one reason Britain has resisted demands by Israel and many Iranian dissidents to list the IRGC as a terrorist organisation: it risks criminalising large numbers of people whose loyalty to the regime might otherwise at some point be called into question.

Militarily, the IRGC is believed to field around 190,000 personnel, not including the Basij, a volunteer paramilitary force affiliated with the corps.

Ground forces, devoted mostly to internal security and largely staffed by conscripts like Mr Naseri, account for about 150,000 of the total.

Aerospace, navy, and marine infantry branches account for most of the remainder. But it is the fifth branch, the overseas Quds Force, that gains the most attention abroad.

Fielding just 5,000 men according to the 2023 edition of the IISS think tank’s annual Military Balance, the Quds Force is responsible for coordinating the “axis of resistance” made up of proxy and allied militant groups including Hezbollah in Lebanon, Hamas in Gaza, and the Houthis in Yemen.

It orchestrated Iran’s intervention in the Syrian civil war, backs powerful militias in Iraq, and has been accused of running overseas assassination programmes targeting regime opponents.

In short, it is Israel’s main antagonist in the regional shadow war.

When Mr Rezaei, the conscript, says “our guys in the region” should be responding to the strike in Damascus, he means the Quds Force.

However, despondency is not universal.

Javad, a member of the Basij, told The Telegraph that he was annoyed with the government’s apparent hesitance before launching the strike.

“We must have retaliated immediately and without hesitation. Still, I’m satisfied it occurred, and it was a lesson for the Zionists,” he said by telephone.

“We were at a friend’s house, watching a film when it happened. Without delay, we hurried outside and made our way to our base, where more friends had gathered. Throughout the night, we mounted our motorcycles and waved our flag until morning,” he recalled.

“If they dare take even a single step in response to our actions, I would settle for nothing less than the total eradication of the occupiers from the face of the earth,” he added.

But Iranian society is deeply divided. While pro-regime candidates still reliably claim the support of a hard base of about 15 per cent of voters, the historically low turnout at recent elections points to growing disillusion with the status quo, says Mr Azizi. Most observers agree that fatigue with corruption, economic stagnation and international isolation now cuts across all social classes.

Some anti-regime Iranians have even suggested an Israeli strike might finally put them out of their misery.

“A war is the only hope and option we can get rid of them [the IRGC], they harass us every day on the streets and the whole world looks at us as terrorists because of them,” said Fatemeh from the northern city of Tabriz, referring to Iranian authorities.

“It does not matter if I die in the war, I just want them to go and let Iran be free. I’m tired of the IRGC, Basij and all of them. I just want all of them to go.”

Conscript Mr Rezaei says he is struggling between a reluctance to fight, and a nagging sense of patriotic obligation to “defend” Iran.

“My uncle lost his life during the war with Iraq and I think I should just follow him and defend Iran from aggressors, but I hope war does not happen. I just want to finish my service so I can get my passport and leave Iran with my mother,” he said.

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