Understanding Khamenei
By Yochanan Gordon
A joke is told about a reckless repeat offender who was constantly pulled over for endangering others on the road. After countless fines and stern warnings, the police finally decided to teach him a lesson. They drew a circle on the side of the road and ordered him to stand inside it while they impounded his vehicle. “If you step out even once,” they warned, “you’ll be thrown in jail.” As they began smashing his car, the man doubled over in laughter. The more damage they caused, the harder he laughed. Finally, one of the officers couldn’t take it and asked, “Why are you laughing?” The man replied, “Because I stepped out of the circle three times and you didn’t notice.”
For years, Iran has been dangerously close to developing nuclear weapons. Leaders like Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu and President Donald Trump have remained firm in preventing this terrorist regime from obtaining nuclear capabilities. In contrast, previous U.S. administrations signed deals with Iran and even sent them money—funds that were quickly used to enrich uranium and further their nuclear ambitions.
Israel has long debated a preemptive strike on Iran’s nuclear facilities. Many American pundits—such as Tucker Carlson and Steve Bannon—warned that doing so would provoke an apocalyptic war. Yet, in their recent joint operation, Israel and the United States launched a 12-day military campaign inside Iran. The strike resulted in the deaths of numerous IRGC commanders and nuclear scientists, while the U.S. B-2 bombing mission targeted Iran’s nuclear sites in Natanz, Tehran, and Isfahan.
In retaliation, Iran fired hundreds of rockets into Israeli cities, causing extensive damage and killing 28 civilians, Hashem yikom damam. Despite the devastating blow Iran sustained, Supreme Leader Ali Khamenei declared victory. To any rational observer, it’s clear Israel and the U.S. had the upper hand. Had they wanted to, they could have eliminated Khamenei himself, holed up in a bunker, and ushered in regime change after 46 years of oppression and terror.
Khamenei’s “victory speech” lingered in my mind. Dismissing it as the delusions of an aging dictator didn’t satisfy the gnawing unease I felt.
I learn Likkutei Sichos weekly with a friend. For years, we followed the Project Likkutei Sichos program, covering two sichos per week. Lately, we’ve slowed to one per week, though perhaps writing this will nudge me to return to the original pace.
Last week’s sichah, spoken by the Lubavitcher Rebbe in connection to 3 Tammuz, helped me understand what Khamenei may have meant. But before explaining, I must admit how disturbed I felt by the ceasefire. Israel had its chance to finally eliminate the regime and liberate a population that largely opposes its autocratic rulers. Nobody prefers war, especially when innocent lives are lost. But worse than starting a war is failing to finish one. President Trump insists that Iran’s nuclear program was dealt a fatal blow, but conflicting reports raise doubts. And if Khamenei still lives—and Iran continues to fund terror throughout the region—the danger remains. Alarmingly, some reports suggest Trump may allow neighboring Muslim nations to infuse Iran with funds to coax them back to the negotiating table.
We tend to define victory by body counts and infrastructure damage. And yes, while Israel cherishes life far more than its enemies, and 28 deaths is a devastating toll, the operational success of this campaign far outweighed Iran’s. By that metric, Israel clearly “won.” But from Khamenei’s vantage point, the fact that he survived and his regime endures means he won.
On 3 Tammuz of 1927, the Frierdiker Rebbe of Lubavitch learned that his 10-year sentence in a Soviet prison had been commuted to three years of exile in Kostroma. The news arrived on Rosh Chodesh Tammuz, a Thursday. When asked by the guard when they’d arrive in Kostroma if they left that day, he was told, “Saturday.” The Rebbe refused to travel on Shabbos. The guard warned that if he stayed, the commutation would be revoked. Thanks to outside advocacy, the Rebbe was permitted to remain until Sunday.
The Rebbe—our Rebbe—analyzes this incident in a sichah. Halachically, it seems clear: it would have been permitted, even required, for the Frierdiker Rebbe to violate Shabbos to preserve his life. In fact, defying the authorities so openly could have invited even greater danger. Why risk it?
Because the Frierdiker Rebbe lived with mesirus nefesh—total self-sacrifice. But more than that, the Rebbe explains that this wasn’t a halachic issue at all. This was a matter of kiddush Hashem vs. chillul Hashem. In parashas Chukas, Moshe lost his right to enter Eretz Yisrael for hitting the rock instead of speaking to it. Why the severity? He missed an opportunity to sanctify Hashem’s name.
In such situations, the “act” is secondary to how it’s perceived. The Frierdiker Rebbe knew that traveling on Shabbos—even if halachically permissible—would appear to the enemy as a surrender, as if the leader of world Jewry had buckled. That alone made it worth risking his life.
So, too, l’havdil, with Khamenei. To Khamenei, victory isn’t about missiles or casualties. It’s about perception. If he remains standing, if his regime survives, he can declare, “We won.” From our side, it’s a strategic pause; from his side, it’s vindication. Like the man laughing in the circle while his car is destroyed, Khamenei is chuckling—not because he avoided defeat, but because he stayed in the game. And that’s all that matters to him.
We don’t think on the same plane as our enemies. Perhaps we should.
Yochanan Gordon can be reached at [email protected]. Read more of Yochanan’s articles at 5TJT.com.
