-Analysis-
BEIRUT — It is rare for members of the Iranian regime to show any inclination toward laughter. Quite the opposite, the followers of the 1979 Islamic Revolution leader Ayatollah Ruhollah Khomeini are generally seen as grim and stern. Perhaps Hassan Nasrallah was an exception, as there are some photos of the late Hezbollah chief laughing, showing all his teeth. Still, even with him, the dominant image always carries signs of anger, a stern look, and maybe a raised finger threatening enemies with severe consequences.
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Laughter has always been a rare commodity in Khomeinist vocabulary, extending to figures like Iran’s current Supreme Leader Ali Khamenei and other notable figures in the so-called Axis of Resistance, such as current Hezbollah leaders Mohammad Raad and Naim Qassem, as well as the late head of Iran’s National Guard, Qasem Soleimani.
Khomeini, known for his calculated seriousness and disregard for emotions, demonstrated this demeanor during a pivotal moment aboard the Air France flight returning him to Tehran in 1979. This was a historic event, marking the culmination of the Islamic Revolution and the end of the Shah’s reign. When a journalist asked him how he felt upon entering Iranian airspace after 14 years of exile, Khomeini, gazing out of the window and ignoring the journalists, responded curtly with a frown: “Nothing.” This dismissive reply encapsulated not only his austere public image but also the deliberate detachment he used to project authority and focus on the ideological goals of the Revolution rather than personal sentiment.
Ali Larijani, the senior advisor to Supreme Leader Ali Khamenei, does not deviate from this line. Not normally, at least.
A quick glance at pictures of him available on Google gives a clear impression of his serious face and stern looks in many snapshots. When he does laugh or smile, his laughter appears restrained and “diplomatic,” often fitting the nature of his meetings and visits.
Diplomatic mask
As a seasoned figure who led Iran‘s Parliament for more than a decade and was a key negotiator in the nuclear program talks, Larijani is certainly aware of the implications of his laughter or frown in representing the Iranian diplomatic stance and the sentiment towards the issues he deals with. He knows well that facial expressions and movements are part of the image that any person projects when they arrive at a place in a certain capacity.
Larijani’s most recent arrival in Beirut tells a different story.
What explains this apparent good humor in war times?
Arriving from Tehran to discuss the presumed indirect negotiations between Israel and Hezbollah, he was in the Lebanese capital with the aim of reaching a ceasefire under U.S. mediation. He knew well that he arrived in Beirut amid the ongoing massacre that had already claimed more than 3,000 Lebanese lives, with tens of thousands injured and hundreds of thousands displaced.
He came to Beirut amidst destruction and tragedy, meeting with Parliament Speaker Nabih Berri and Prime Minister Najib Mikati. During his visit, Lebanese photographer Nabil Ismail captured a series of pictures of Larijani laughing with a wide smile. What explains this apparent good humor in war times, and overall contradiction of the usual serious demeanor of figures from his political camp — even during peaceful times?
Unsettling smile
Ismail shared the photos he’d taken on his social media accounts, and many criticized Larijani’s laughter, claiming it was “out of place.” Some even called for the Iranian ambassador’s expulsion in protest of the offensive laugh.
Larijani laughs, fully aware of the implications of his laughter in such a situation. The seasoned Iranian diplomat knows that many Lebanese blame his regime for dragging their country into a bloody and senseless war with a fanatic criminal like Israel’s Benjamin Netanyahu. He knows that death hovers over Beirut and that destruction spreads like oil stains in the southern cities and villages, reaching the Bekaa, Baalbek, and even Kesrouan and Akkar.
Larijani knows all of this well, and may have even studied his laugh in private before displaying it in public for all to see. From the window of his plane circling over Beirut before landing, he must have seen the smoke from missiles and the dust of vaporized houses. He must have seen what is evident to all: the city, submerged in grief, poverty, destitution, displacement, pain, and despair.
Nevertheless, if Larijani had been asked, as Khomeini was asked on the plane about his feelings, he would have answered: “Nothing,” then feigned a laugh similar to the one he displayed before the cameras — laughter closer to an airstrike or a sonic boom, closer to dancing over rubble and corpses, stirring nothing but disgust and terror.
