Ideological Proximity and Conflict

Ideology is a set of abstract ideas that includes “an enunciation of the grievances or challenges that the group confronts, the identification of objectives on behalf of that group (political change—or defense against its threat), and a (perhaps vaguely defined) program of action” (Gutiérrez-Sanín and Wood Reference Gutiérrez-Sanín and Wood2014, 215).Footnote ³ Ideology can manifest itself as a set of rigid and nuanced doctrines, rituals, or everyday social practices among individuals and groups (Revkin and Wood Reference Revkin and Wood2021; Hassner Reference Hassner2016; Parkinson Reference Parkinson2021; Schubiger and Zelina Reference Schubiger and Zelina2017; Tilly Reference Tilly2003). It functions through doctrines, beliefs, emotions, institutions, and socialization. It increases the efficiency of an organization’s leadership to achieve consensus on critical matters, strengthens principal-agent ties, and reduces collective action and commitment problems (Walter Reference Walter2017).

Ideational signals are particularly critical for actors in repressive and low-information environments (Blaydes Reference Blaydes2018). Ideas can generate focal points around which rebels, allies, and sympathizers coordinate their actions, consequently reducing uncertainty and helping actors navigate through terra incognita. Ideological affinities not only guide individual and collective decision-making but also may influence the formation and durability of alliances among groups. Some scholars have argued that ideological proximity is epiphenomenal to the relations among competing groups (Christia Reference Christia2012; Seymour Reference Seymour2014). Material interests drive group behavior, while ideology and other “immutable perceived cleavages”(Christia Reference Christia2012, 25) serve as a post hoc justification since they “do have psychological and emotional import for the rank and file—hence the reason elites constantly invoke them” (Christia Reference Christia2012, 7). However, recently others have posited that actors with similar ideological outlooks are more likely to cooperate with each other than with those who hold opposing worldviews (Gade et al. Reference Gade, Gabbay, Hafez and Kelly2019a; Staniland Reference Staniland2021; Balcells, Chen, and Pischedda Reference Balcells, Chen and Pischedda2022; Blair et al. Reference Blair, Chenoweth, Horowitz, Perkoski and Philip2022). These scholars maintain that ideological proximity yields militant cooperation since these groups share similar values, preferences, and ideal orders (Gade et al. Reference Gade, Gabbay, Hafez and Kelly2019a). These shared factors delineate in-group and out-group dynamics, thereby enhancing the likelihood of alliances. Blair et al. (Reference Blair, Chenoweth, Horowitz, Perkoski and Philip2022) demonstrate that the presence of common ideological authorities, enforcement networks, and mutual confidence among co-ideologues increases the probability and durability of cooperation, particularly among religious groups. Conversely, “irreconcilable ideological divides” engender uncertainty and distrust among competing groups, threatening their survival (Hafez Reference Hafez2020, 605). Consequently, “groups that are seen as ideologically opposed will be likely to find themselves locked in total warfare” (Staniland Reference Staniland2021, 12). Interestingly, both camps see religion and identity as fixed, but they arrive at opposite conclusions. Christia argues that since ideology and identity “stay relatively fixed,” they cannot independently explain the constant alliance changes among warring parties (Christia Reference Christia2012, 8). Hence, they are epiphenomenal to alliance formation, which is driven by the need to balance power among violent groups. Gade et al. refer to the immutability of ideology in the short term too, only to reject the endogeneity argument: “This [endogeneity] objection assumes that militant groups arise as ideological blank slates, contrary to the fact that the founders of such groups often have strong ideological orientations from the outset” (2019b, 331-332). Despite their differences, both sides view ideological agenda as distinct from strategic calculation. For one, normative commitment to ideational cleavages is an afterthought, if not irrelevant, to strategic interests and alliance formation. For the other, it is the driving force behind, and constitutive of, interests. However, political actors often ally with ideological adversaries against those who share similar ideational templates. Just as states assess internal vulnerabilities to other states and their ideologies (Haas Reference Haas2022), armed groups evaluate whether their rivals’ identities and ideologies might internally weaken them. If they do, these groups may resort to violent actions, often justifying their behavior by declaring their rivals not as coreligionists but as heretics (Hafez Reference Hafez2020). However, I argue that such statements, often echoed by scholars and presented as dispositional arguments, invert the logic. Armed groups with shared ideological constituencies tend to aspire to monopolize leadership and resources, thereby portraying each other as ideologically deviant, distant, or dogmatic. Heresy, in this context, is in the eyes of the beholder and thus endogenous to political competition (Huang Reference Huang2020). Regardless of the labels these actors publicly affix to one another, they often share similar ideological foundations under banners such as Marxism, nationalism, or Islam. These ideologies should not be understood in isolation, but as a product of interactions within a broader space of armed groups (Bakke, Cunningham, and Seymour Reference Bakke, Cunningham and Seymour2012). They are continuously negotiated and reshaped through social interactions and must therefore be examined in the context of relational processes (Tilly Reference Tilly2003, Reference Tilly2005).

Ideational factors can function both as a unifying force that binds groups together and as a potential source of division that drives them apart. Pischedda (Reference Pischedda2018, Reference Pischedda2021) observes that co-ethnic groups are particularly prone to infighting as they seek to inherit their rivals’ social networks, recruits, and material support. But can the same logic apply to co-ideologues? Comparing co-ideologues with co-ethnics, Balcells, Chen, and Pischedda (Reference Balcells, Chen and Pischedda2022) argue that groups with similar ideological constituencies are more likely to form deep alliances. They contend that because ideological identities are generally less visible and less sticky compared to ethnic identities, there are limited prospects for capturing the social resource base of a vanquished competitor, thus reducing the incentives for infighting among co-ideologues. Farrell (Reference Farrell2020) demonstrates that transnational groups sharing a similar ideology frequently engage in outbidding to compete for market share. I argue that ideological proximity among groups within the same territory, can also intensify competition for resources. As the next section will show, this proximity can lead to outbidding to exhibit greater ideological sincerity and authenticity compared to their brethren.

Sincerity and Authenticity

Co-ideologues possess the means to challenge one another through two avenues: questioning sincerity and questioning authenticity. Sincerity, in this context, pertains to the genuine belief and unwavering commitment of individuals or groups to a particular ideology or cause. It implies that those engaged in the conflict genuinely hold the beliefs they proclaim, and their actions consistently align with these professed convictions. In the realm of violent conflict, what matters is how external observers perceive the sincerity of the statements, actions, and motivations of those involved, irrespective of whether these actors are genuinely sincere (Gutiérrez-Sanín and Wood Reference Gutiérrez-Sanín and Wood2014, 222) or not (Thaler Reference Thaler2022) in their beliefs and commitments. Authenticity, on the other hand, deals with the truthfulness of an actor’s representation of its ideology. It places significant emphasis on how external observers assess whether the actor’s statements and actions are in harmony with the established tenets and principles of the given ideology. In essence, authenticity scrutinizes whether the actor’s expressions of ideology faithfully adhere to the canonical teachings and beliefs associated with that ideology. It is important to distinguish ideological authenticity from ideological credibility. While ideological credibility refers to demonstrating the effectiveness of an ideational framework as a fighting tool, ideological authenticity concerns the “correctness” of an ideological interpretation, rather than the ideology itself. Ideologically distant groups, such as Marxists and Islamists, often challenge each other’s ideological credibility as a whole, whereas ideologically similar groups engage in a more focused and intense competition over the authenticity of their respective interpretations of their shared ideology.

Co-ideologues, by virtue of their shared knowledge and authority, are uniquely positioned to cast doubt on the sincere commitment of their counterparts, often highlighting instances of hypocrisy within rival organizations. Additionally, they question each other’s interpretations of their shared ideology, branding opposing groups as heretical. These challenges can have profound consequences, undermining a group’s ability to coordinate effectively with its members (Davenport Reference Davenport2015; della Porta Reference della Porta2013) and jeopardizing its private benefits such as cohesion, resources, influence, power, and leadership (Bakke, Cunningham, and Seymour Reference Bakke, Cunningham and Seymour2012; Olzak Reference Olzak2022; Krause Reference Krause2013). As a result, ideologies can assume a disruptive role within competing organizations that share analogous ideational foundations, acting as gateways that grant rivals access to each other’s inner workings. This dynamic can be likened to a signal-jamming effect, inducing confusion within and undermining the resolve and coordination among members of rival organizations. A competing discourse from Group A has the potential to discredit the ideological sincerity and authenticity of Group B, consequently undermining its intended effectiveness. This disruption can extend to various aspects, including impeding the flow of new recruits, disrupting financial channels, and eroding members’ discipline and dedication. Disillusioned members may become more inclined to align with new rivals who are perceived as more ideologically sincere and authentic. The ability of a group to expose its rival’s hypocrisy and heresy can render the latter vulnerable to dissolution.

Endorsement and Performance Outbidding

To safeguard their reputation and protect themselves against accusations of insincerity and inauthenticity, armed groups rely on endorsement and performance. Endorsement refers to the approval of a group’s sincerity and authenticity by relevant authorities. Social psychologists have long stressed the importance of source credibility for the persuasion process (Hovland and Weiss Reference Hovland and Weiss1951). Simply adopting an ideological position does not automatically generate popular support; a recipient is unlikely to embrace a cause unless the provider is perceived as possessing authority, expertise, and sincerity. Through their social networks with ideological authorities, armed groups compete for validation of their genuine commitment to the ideological cause as well as their adherence to the “correct” reading of that ideology. They present their ideological interpretations and political objectives, seeking statements and proclamations that can demonstrate endorsement of their sincerity and authenticity. Alternatively, these groups may use coercion to silence those who could denounce them as heretical or hypocritical.

It is not surprising, therefore, that one of the initial actions of emerging religious armed groups often involves targeting senior clerical opponents. For instance, Nigeria’s Boko Haram began its operations by assassinating traditional clerics to silence orthodox religious institutions and prevent a mainstream challenge to its fringe ideology (Thurston Reference Thurston2015). Similarly, Iran’s Ayatollah Ruhollah Khomeini created the Special Court of the Clergy independent from the state and in parallel with the judiciary to prosecute quietist religious authorities who opposed his theological views on clerical rule (Künkler Reference Künkler, Arjomand and Brown2013). Through endorsement—whether genuine or coerced—and rhetorical competition, armed groups gain legitimacy, which in turn facilitates the recruitment of followers and the acquisition of material resources, thereby expanding their influence in a competitive environment. The more similar the ideologies of competing armed groups, the more identical their pool of ideological authorities, and thus the more intensely they compete to secure endorsement.

Armed groups also engage in performance outbidding, undertaking costly operations to exhibit their normative commitment and the effectiveness of their ideology. Particularly, new organizations are motivated to compete intensely as they seek to carve out political space for their activism. The “liability of newness” (Stinchcombe Reference Stinchcombe and March1965), referring to their low levels of legitimacy in comparison to more established organizations, compels these startups to adopt social mechanisms aimed at legitimizing their actions. As Blaydes and Linzer (Reference Blaydes and Linzer2012, 226) argue, “when opposing politicians share similar stances on salient issues, heated competition can lead to more extreme rhetoric as politicians attempt to ideologically ‘outbid’ their opponents.” This need to establish credibility often drives violent groups to engage in both rhetorical and physical outbidding against ideologically similar rivals, prioritizing inter-rebel competition over external confrontation with distant adversaries. Their sincerity is evidenced by their willingness to make sacrifices that may appear contrary to their immediate interests. A powerful way they demonstrate this commitment is by showcasing their martyrs—individuals who have sacrificed their lives for the cause. When armed groups carry out daring violent operations, they seek to portray their commitment to their ideology as more genuine than that of their rivals. Beyond demonstrating ideological sincerity, these spectacular acts of violence can also signal ideological coherence and effectiveness, thereby reinforcing authenticity (or credibility, in the case of ideologically distant groups). Conversely, failed or comparatively inferior performance can reduce a group’s “ideological appeal” (Nussio and Ugarriza Reference Nussio and Ugarriza2021, 174), which in turn can negatively impact popular support and recruitment—both essential for the group’s self-preservation (Crenshaw Reference Crenshaw1985; Cronin Reference Cronin2006).

Scholars have long recognized that outbidding through violence is crucial for maintaining internal cohesion and attracting recruits (Crenshaw Reference Crenshaw1985; Bloom Reference Bloom2005; Kydd and Walter Reference Kydd and Walter2006; Conrad and Greene Reference Conrad and Greene2015; Nemeth Reference Nemeth2014; Farrell Reference Farrell2020). The more intensely groups compete, the more likely they are to resort to violent actions to outbid their rivals, thereby projecting ideological appeal and preserving internal cohesion (Crenshaw Reference Crenshaw1985). Given their ideological proximity, splinter groups are particularly prone to using violence to undermine their rivals. In summary, the imperative of survival—an organization’s most immediate objective—can position ideologically similar groups at odds with one another, driving them to engage in outbidding operations. While scholars typically view outbidding as a tactical move by violent actors to increase recruitment, this article introduces an ideational step that more effectively explains the outbidding process’s underlying mechanism. It connects the actors’ use of violence to their broader goal of maximizing market share by creating a jamming effect and driving fragmentation through demonstrating ideological sincerity and authenticity (or credibility, in the case of ideologically distant groups).

The argument that ideological proximity can lead to infighting, competition over resources, and leadership struggles among armed actors has two key observable implications. First, ideologically proximate armed groups should claim and actively demonstrate or behave as if they prioritize their ideological commitments over material interests. This commitment is especially evident in the early stages of their emergence, as groups demonstrate a willingness to incur significant costs—such as risking lives, losing resources, or making sacrifices—to uphold their ideology and pursue a higher cause. These groups are also likely to engage in intense ideological debates and seek endorsements from authoritative figures within their ideological community to assert their authenticity. Concurrently, they would accuse their rivals of hypocrisy, exposing them as prioritizing political ambitions and strategic interests over their purported ideology. By doing so, they aim to protect their ideological territory and material interests from what they perceive as ideological competitors. Outbidding plays a critical role in this process, where these groups engage in extreme actions or operations to demonstrate their superior commitment to the shared ideology, thereby undermining their rivals and capturing a larger share of ideological and material resources. Second, despite or rather because of their shared ideological framework, co-ideologues should exhibit distrust toward one another. Rather than fostering cooperation through resource-sharing or mutual recruitment, these groups are expected to safeguard their own ranks and resources, while seeking to attract members and resources of rivals. This territoriality stems from fears that others might exploit their shared ideology to siphon off members or resources, thereby weakening their own standing. The fear of defection or infiltration by ideologically similar rivals would drive these groups to use accusations of hypocrisy and heresy as a means to discredit one another and to protect their internal cohesion. The reliance on ideological debates and negotiations, with frequent references to hypocrisy and heresy, serves to solidify their position, protect leadership status, and undermine rivals who pose a threat to their resources and legitimacy.

Research Design

I adopt a within-case analysis to examine the relationship between ideological proximity and inter-rebel conflict. Case studies are uniquely equipped to shed light on how actors arrive at certain decisions (Gerring Reference Gerring2006; Yom Reference Yom2015). Leveraging variation across a sequence of events in a single unit, we can unearth the linkage between political imperatives and ideology (Jacobs Reference Jacobs, Bennett and Checkel2015). However, there remains the possibility of omitted and confounding variables. Actors often mask their rivalries by overstressing normative commitment. By taking these statements at face value, scholars risk overlooking the strategic calculations behind normative commitments, resulting in a truncated causal chain. To be sure, it is nearly impossible to find actors who are both aware of and willing to acknowledge the “real” strategic calculations behind their actions (Gonzalez-Ocantos and LaPorte Reference Gonzalez-Ocantos and LaPorte2019). To unearth these “undocumented steps,” (Gonzalez-Ocantos and LaPorte Reference Gonzalez-Ocantos and LaPorte2019), we need to be cautious when adopting sequential analysis to examine a decision-making trajectory. As Jacobs notes, temporal orderings can be misleading since actors strategically “make choices in anticipation of other actors’ reactions” (Jacobs Reference Jacobs, Bennett and Checkel2015, 62, emphasis original). In other words, “temporally prior events and political behavior can be endogenous to subsequent (expected) outcomes” (Jacobs Reference Jacobs, Bennett and Checkel2015, 62-63). What both scholars and actors often label as “an ideological cause” could in fact be part of a strategic move on the part of the actors to generate the desired outcome. Therefore, we should contextualize the data-generating process to account for the unobservable decisions actors may have made in anticipating a particular outcome (Morrison Reference Morrison2016).

To achieve a more accurate understanding of the underlying political context, we need to go beyond rebel groups’ self-serving normative statements and systematically study their internal deliberations. We should also broaden the context and scrutinize their rivals’ analyses of them, even though they too can be biased. While delving into the ideological debates within armed groups, it is crucial not to take their self-descriptions or portrayals of their rivals as absolute truths, viewing them instead as valuable data points (Tabaar et al. Reference Tabaar, Huang, Chandra, Finkel, Nielsen, Revkin, Vogt and Wood2023). Through cross-examinations and studying the interactions among competing groups, we can identify alternative motivations.

Given the challenges of data collection from contemporary rebel groups (Kapiszewski, MacLean, and Read Reference Kapiszewski, MacLean and Read2015; Lyall Reference Lyall, Bennett and Checkel2015), older cases are more analytically advantageous since they generate fewer security concerns and may offer more detailed information about strategic calculations, ideological trajectories, and performance assessments. Surviving members of such organizations often reveal precious data and analyses about their activism. However, not all rebel groups are equally prolific in this regard. Members of leftist organizations are known to be intellectuals with a penchant for writing. As young university students, they often produce vast ideological, political, military, and personal records. Many of these notes are further enriched by the ever-growing memoirs and reflections that surviving members generated after “retirement.”

I examine Iran’s Mojahedin-e Khalq Organization (MKO), a violent anti-Shah leftist-Islamist rebel group that emerged in the 1960s, and its interplay with both the clergy and the Marxist rebels. By turning religion into an actionable political ideology, the MKO became what the historian Ervand Abrahamian calls “the first Iranian organization to develop systematically a modern revolutionary interpretation of Islam” (Abrahamian Reference Abrahamian1989, 1). The MKO later converted to Marxism before returning to Islamism after the 1979 revolution. By treating ideology as an exogenous factor in alliance formation, one might expect that the MKO’s Islamist ideology and subsequent Marxist transformation would have aligned the organization more closely with the clergy and the Marxist-Leninist Fadaiyan-e Khalq Organization (FKO),Footnote ⁴ respectively. Drawing on primary and archival sources, this article elucidates the material and leadership threats that the orthodox and Islamist clergy perceived from the MKO. The MKO sought endorsement from religious authorities to shield itself from accusations of hypocrisy and heresy by the religious establishment and engaged in violent operations to signal its ideological sincerity and authenticity. As an emerging Islamist armed group, the MKO’s operations were also designed to demonstrate the effectiveness of its ideology as a combat tool to rival Marxist groups and their potential recruits. Similarly, although the Islamist MKO and Marxist FKO had a history of collaboration and joint operations despite their ideological differences, the MKO’s shift to Marxism altered this dynamic, threatening the FKO’s resources and its status as a vanguard organization. By studying public statements and internal notes, including audio tapes and transcripts of secret meetings between the two organizations’ leaders, I show how ideational affinity severed their collaboration. They questioned each other’s ideological sincerity and authenticity which prompted outbidding operations against the state and U.S. personnel in Iran. With the 1979 Iranian revolution and the ascendance of the Islamist clerics, a new leadership took over the MKO and reclaimed its religious credentials. However, just as the MKO’s Marxist conversion deepened its fissure with the Marxist FKO, its Islamist turn posed a threat to Khomeini’s quest to take over the state during the revolutionary phase (1979–1981). The MKO’s return to Islamism aimed to penetrate and capture the new government in Tehran. Its competition with Khomeini over claims to Islamism, coupled with mutual accusations of hypocrisy and heresy, eventually turned bloody. Ironically, but consistent with this study’s expectations, Khomeini and his newly established Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps (IRGC) showed more tolerance toward communist groups than the Islamist MKO. I use primary sources from both the MKO and its Islamist rivals to illustrate each side’s assessment of the disruptive effect the MKO’s religious ideology had on the new regime and its base.

This study’s scope is limited to the MKO’s pre-exile phase, spanning from the mid-1960s until 1981, during which the organization underwent significant ideological developments and conversions, and before its Islamist rivals consolidated control over the post-revolutionary state.Footnote ⁵ Although Khomeini emerged as the leader of the revolution in 1979, he initially pledged to return to his seminary in the holy city of Qom and allow religious nationalist technocrats to govern the Islamic Republic. However, in the subsequent power struggle among Islamists, nationalists, and Marxists following the monarch’s removal, Khomeini’s faction ultimately took control of the state, with him at its helm in Tehran.

The empirical evidence for this article draws from a wide array of internal and secret publications by the MKO, other Marxist and Islamist groups, memoirs, interviews, and primary Persian documents sourced from different archives and digitized collections worldwide. Despite the significant role that the organization has played in Iranian politics, with few exceptions that appeared decades ago, there is almost no academic work in general, let alone in conflict studies, that has systematically and objectively studied the MKO relying on these old and recently released documents.

Ideological Proximity to the Clergy

The MKO’s Islamist ideology positioned the organization in close proximity to Iran’s religious establishment, thereby threatening the clerics’ societal status and diverting their resources and followers. Despite his secular appearance, the Shah maintained cooperation with the traditional clerical establishment, as he was committed to protecting the world’s only Shi’a state from its Sunni and communist neighbors. Similarly, with the exception of militant clerics like Khomeini, most senior Shi’a clerics preferred to remain apolitical, partly due to their suspicion of his philosophical and political views and partly out of fear that the Shah’s collapse could worsen their situation, as traditional monarchies in the Middle East were often replaced by left-leaning, anti-religious republics (Roy Reference Roy1999, 203; Moin Reference Moin2009; Tabaar, Reference Tabaar2018). These reciprocal relations with the state, however, gradually strained the clerics’ ties with certain constituencies in society. Many urban religious citizens criticized the established religious authorities for their quietism and sympathized with the MKO’s anti-Shah ideology. Some clerics privately acknowledged the MKO’s appealing and progressive interpretation of Islam (Meisami Reference Meisami2019, 72-73). According to one MKO member, while the clerics were preoccupied with resolving irrelevant hypothetical jurisprudential cases—such as whether a man who had sex with another man could marry his sister—the MKO was preparing for political struggle and promoting justice by studying philosophical texts that the clerics had not even heard of (Meisami Reference Meisami2001, 340-341). According to a former seminarian who later became a senior MKO member, the organization gained support among clerics, particularly those who challenged the Shah (Didar Ashena Reference Didar2013). However, this admiration was not universal. Orthodox religious authorities questioned the authenticity of the MKO’s religious ideology, arguing that the fusion of Islam with Marxism would inevitably lead Muslim activists toward Marxism (“Revayat-e Mesbah Yazdi” 2014).

The MKO recognized that the clerics’ hostility could undermine its perceived religious commitment and authenticity, thus affecting its recruitment efforts and resources. Consequently, the group sought at least veiled support from respected religious authorities. “All we expect [them] to say is, ‘I know them.’ There is not even a need for endorsement,” MKO members acknowledged, understanding that openly backing a violent organization could be risky for these figures (Meisami Reference Meisami2001, 335). To gain legitimacy, they presented their ideological writings—derived from reading and discussing 3,000 books—to well-reputed religious figures. Among them was Mehdi Bazargan, whose non-violent, non-revolutionary opposition group, the Liberation Movement of Iran, had originally attracted the MKO founders before they left to establish the armed group. Bazargan, seeing them as his intellectual offspring, praised the MKO’s ideological work, saying, “You were my students, now you are my teacher” (Meisami Reference Meisami2001, 334).

The MKO also sought the support of potentially sympathetic clerics, including Khomeini, who was an anti-Shah activist in exile in Iraq at the time. In 1970, MKO representatives approached Khomeini to secure his endorsement for an Islamist-led armed struggle. Despite the backing of the group by Khomeini’s own confidantes, he declined, stating that he “[did] not believe in armed struggle” because neither the people nor the clerics were ready to rise up (“Mosahebeh ba Rofagha” 1980, 10). The MKO cited violent movements in Algeria, Palestine, Cuba, China, and Vietnam to demonstrate the feasibility of starting an armed uprising with limited popular support. To emphasize their religious roots, they presented Khomeini with a copy of their book Imam Hossein, which offered a revolutionary interpretation of the Battle of Karbala (680 AD) and criticized the quietist religious establishment throughout history. After several meetings and reading the book, Khomeini shared the MKO’s resentment toward the orthodox religious establishment but cautioned against publicly highlighting its collaboration with the state, warning that the organization could be declared heretical (Haghshenas Reference Haghshenas2020, 362-369). Years later, after coming to power, Khomeini claimed that the MKO representatives had gone to Iraq to deceive him, but he quickly realized that they were using Islam instrumentally. He noted that the MKO members made more references to sacred texts than even he, as a cleric, would (“Didar-e Imam va Rouhani” 2016). Khomeini was likely concerned that the MKO’s anti-clerical Islamist ideology could undermine not only the quietist clerics but the clergy as a whole, including himself. He understood that it could draw religious activists away from his nascent movement, and he was determined to monopolize the anti-Shah Islamist ideology. Indeed, the MKO’s ideology appealed to some of his own protégés, including Akbar Hashemi Rafsanjani, Iran’s future president (“Revayat-e Hojjat ol-Eslam Doaee” 2022). Frustrated by the popularity of Marxist militants and the perceived inadequacy of Islam, these young seminarians viewed the MKO as a credible contender in the armed struggle. To Khomeini’s dismay, some of these seminarians formed limited ideological, financial, and logistical collaborations with the organization. Nonetheless, Khomeini and the orthodox clerics were careful not to publicly denounce the MKO, particularly after it began its daring operations and gained popularity among urban religious circles and seminaries (Haghshenas Reference Haghshenas2020, 368). They largely remained quiet.

In contrast to the clergy, the communist groups did not view the MKO as an immediate threat to their organizational interests. In secret internal publications in prison, a Marxist-Leninist FKO guerilla leader stated that he did not worry about the competition because the FKO had an upper hand given its ideological edge (“Roshanfekran-e Terrorist” 2015, 206; Jazani Reference Jazanin.d.). He believed that the MKO’s Islamism would attract suboptimal religious sympathizers and recruits. Without perceiving the MKO as a threat to its organizational interests and market share, the FKO embraced the group as a potential ally in the collective struggle against the Shah, welcoming joint operations. Both organizations anticipated that the other would ultimately convert upon recognizing the limitations of its own ideology and the credibility and effectiveness of the competing ideology on the battlefield (Jazani Reference Jazanin.d., 33-34; MKO 1979b, 42-45; MKO 1979a, 33-34).

Performance Outbidding

As its ideological construction progressed, the MKO came under internal pressure to move to the operation phase. Despite the consensus on the centrality of ideology to the organization, some members impatiently argued that it should move to the practical phase before a competing group appropriated the torch of armed struggle in Iran (Meisami Reference Meisami2001, 293-295, 381). Indeed, in the midst of this dispute over the balance between theory and praxis, the FKO entered the scene. On February 8, 1971, a few rebels attacked a gendarmerie station in the Siahkal village near the Caspian Sea. The Siahkal operation did not become the spark that the FKO had initially expected to set a popular movement in motion. The masses remained passive and, in fact, locals reportedly collaborated with security forces to find the rebels in the snowy, mountainous forests. Nevertheless, the daring operation against a formidable state lent the FKO and its executed members legendary status as the vanguards of the armed struggle in Iran.Footnote ⁶ This generated anxiety within the MKO whose members were already frustrated with the lengthy process of ideological work (Meisami Reference Meisami2001, 381; Rastgoo Reference Rastgoo2011, 18). The leadership came under pressure from the rank and file to carry out a “major act.” Many MKO members complained: “We talk about action, but they [the FKO] acted before us” (Meisami Reference Meisami2001, 381). Disgruntled members could not help but quickly attribute this setback to the inadequacy of Islam compared to Marxism (Meisami Reference Meisami2001, 381). Some proposed to throw a few Molotov cocktails at government buildings in order to not fall too far behind the FKO in the armed struggle. In response, the MKO decided to prepare for the operation phase quickly by shortening the two-year ideological military training and merging its main books into one (Meisami Reference Meisami2001, 399-400). Now it needed a spectacular performance to showcase its ideological credibility and announce the arrival of another vanguard in the armed struggle.

On the eve of the Shah’s celebration of the 2,500-year anniversary of the Persian Empire in October 1971, the MKO chose to attack Tehran’s power plants in order to trigger a widespread outage in the country and cause international embarrassment for the regime. The operation also included kidnapping members of the royal family. Leaders of 69 states, including 20 kings and 16 presidents, were attending the event held in Persepolis, the ancient capital of the Persian empire in the south of Iran. However, the rush to carry out the attack blinded the MKO’s leadership to the critical fact that Iran’s security environment had drastically changed after the Siahkal operation (MKO 1979b, 47, 72-73). The U.S.-backed regime poured massive resources into improving the security apparatus to prevent similar attacks. The security forces soon discovered and foiled the plot, raided the organization’s cells, and arrested the entire leadership and about 150 (close to 90%) of its members (Rastgoo Reference Rastgoo2011, 18-19, 22).

With this major blow to the organization, an internal conflict over the effectiveness of its Islamist ideology soon emerged. Unlike the FKO, the MKO failed to carry out any operations, as its members were arrested before they could fire a single shot (Haghshenas Reference Haghshenas2020, 408). The MKO Islamist rebels experienced a resurgence in their inferiority complex towards the Marxist groups, and as a result, many, including those in prison, reportedly became less religiously observant (Meisami Reference Meisami2003, 318). In their debates in prison while awaiting their trials, some members stated that there was an ideological flaw in the organization that prevented discipline, coordination, and strict security provisions. Reversing the principal-agent problem, others argued that their rigid ideology was so all-encompassing that it undermined the agency and creativity of individual members at crucial moments (Meisami Reference Meisami2001, 400-401).

Despite the internal uncertainty about the credibility of the MKO’s ideology, the leadership agreed on the vitality of its ideological foundation for the organization’s survival beyond the founding members. Knowing that expressing loyalty to the organization’s violent ideology could increase the likelihood of the death penalty, the MKO’s leadership saved the “ideological defense” for itself and instructed lower members to simply make a legal defense and serve prison terms instead (Hamneshin-e Bahar 2017; Haghshenas Reference Haghshenas2020, 306.). The organization anticipated that by paying the ultimate price for dedication to its ideology, it would reveal its genuine commitment to a sacred cause, which would resonate with society’s ideals of justice and attract potential recruits and sympathizers. Once released, lower-ranking members could rebuild the organization, relying on its ideological foundation and rising popularity.

Meanwhile, MKO members and supporters outside of prison began a massive campaign to pressure the state to commute their sentences. Influential clerics largely remained silent due to the MKO’s ideological threat to the religious establishment’s ties with both the state and society. Two MKO representatives met with Khomeini, who was still in exile in Iraq, to acquire his endorsement for the organization and prevent the imminent executions of its leaders. As a high-ranking and dissident religious authority, Khomeini’s endorsement could have raised the cost of executing MKO members. Despite receiving letters from Khomeini’s trusted circles urging him to express his support for the MKO, he refused to back the organization (“Didar-e Imam va Rouhani” 2016). Notwithstanding disagreements with his apolitical peers in seminaries over opposing the Shah, he too viewed the MKO’s Islamism as a threat to the clerical establishment as a whole as well as his own political movement.

Most MKO leaders were executed in 1971, but their martyrdom instantly turned them into legendary symbols of resistance against the state for decades to come. Despite this decapitation, the MKO not only survived but grew exponentially, with its recruitment doubling within 18 months—outpacing the growth achieved in the previous years (MKO 1976, 46). Alongside individual supporters, smaller armed religious organizations allied with the MKO, perceiving it as a more promising avenue (Haghshenas Reference Haghshenas2020, 325). The MKO undermined the legitimacy of the quietist, apolitical clergy, portraying them as irrelevant to society due to their focus on otherworldly affairs, while demonstrating that an authentic reading of Islam must prioritize justice and resistance against oppression. Urban-based religious citizens and low-ranking militant clerics were pleased to see that, for the first time, a Muslim group had emerged as a credible armed rebel organization, side by side with the Marxists, against the monarchy. To the dismay of senior clerics, the MKO’s wealthy sympathizers, particularly among the bazaaris, sent their religious taxes either directly or through young militant seminarians to the organization (Naderi Reference Naderi2007, 641). The MKO received enough cash to help its Marxist FKO rival (Sazman-e Mojahedin-e Khalq 2005, 212). While the MKO remained Islamist, neither organization posed a serious threat to the other’s cohesion, resources, and influence. With the increasing prominence of the MKO, Khomeini could not afford to remain silent. The militant clergy, including his own protégés, were now both consuming and propagating the MKO’s ideological and political analyses (“Mosahebeh ba Rouhani and Haghshenas” 2011). Failing to endorse an organization that was at the forefront of resisting the Shah, filling his prisons, and enduring executions and torture could lead many to question Khomeini’s sincerity and diminish his support base. Under pressure from his allies and followers, Khomeini could not remain quiet. He allowed his religious taxes to be allocated to the families affected, possibly recognizing that many of his followers were inclined to contribute to the MKO regardless. Ultimately, Khomeini came close to publicly endorsing the MKO’s heroism but refrained due to concerns about rumors of ideological shifts within the organization. Rafsanjani advised him to maintain a stance of “neither endorsement nor denouncement” (“Revayat-e Lotfollah Meisami” 2019).

Ideological Debate for Unification

Once the purge neared completion and the new operations gained momentum, the MKO entered into dialogue with the FKO for a united front. The adherence of the two vanguards of armed struggle to the same Marxist-Leninist ideology should have naturally compelled them to collaborate and possibly merge, as the scholarly literature predicts. However, the MKO’s Marxist turn heightened tensions with the FKO, which had urged the MKO not to convert but instead invited its Marxist members to simply join the FKO (Nejati Reference Nejati2016). The MKO’s conversion posed a direct threat to the FKO’s vanguard status and resources. If the MKO established that it had better operational performance and a more authentic Marxist ideology, it could undermine the FKO’s leadership in armed struggle, potentially drawing away its members, and sympathizers.

In the fall of 1975, two legendary leaders, the MKO’s Taghi Shahram and the FKO’s Hamid Ashraf, along with their deputies, held a secret meeting at a remote house near Tehran. Although the meeting took place in the same room, a curtain separated the two sides to protect their identities. This debate, along with subsequent ideological discussions between the two organizations, was recorded on audio tapes, which permeated both groups through internal discussions. These tapes were only made publicly available nearly four decades later by surviving comrades in exile.Footnote ⁷ The FKO had welcomed the arrival of the Islamist MKO as an anti-Shah rebel group. The two organizations even shared intelligence and collaborated in operations against the state and U.S. personnel in Iran. The MKO’s sophisticated radio interception system had often informed the FKO of imminent security raids against its cells (Shahsavandi Reference Shahsavandi2022a). However, their leaders were now meeting not as Marxist-Leninist versus Islamist groups, but as two ideologically identical entities. As the following interactions show, both sides were deeply suspicious of each other’s intentions, despite their common ideological prism. From the outset, the FKO’s Ashraf challenged the sincerity and authenticity of the MKO’s ideological conversion. He rejected the MKO’s claim that Marxism prevailed over religion in the organization as a whole by stressing that 50% of its members were still religious before the purge (Matn-e Kamel-e 2014, 14). He stated that, given its petite bourgeoisie base, the MKO could not genuinely convert to Marxism, but instead aimed to protect its class interests. Referring to the MKO’s initial hesitation in removing the Koranic verse from the organization’s logo, the FKO’s leader insisted that the MKO was unwilling to truly reveal its Marxist conversion, for it would negatively affect its petite bourgeoisie “resources” (Matn-e Kamel-e 2014, 14, 22). Additionally, he underscored that the MKO’s class base hindered not just its evolution, but its operations as well. Ashraf pointed to the MKO’s attacks against modern supermarkets and banks as examples of its “social psychology,” in that they targeted the bourgeoisie to serve the petite bourgeoisie (Matn-e Kamel-e 2014, 70). This was a reference to the bazaaris’ anger over the Shah’s modernizing of financial and economic megaprojects that harmed traditional merchants. Ashraf said that “it never even crossed our minds to bomb the Omran Bank,” because the proletariat would not have felt the benefit of such an attack (Matn-e Kamel-e 2014, 69).

In response, the MKO’s Shahram argued that although the leadership had converted, its rank and file needed preparation before the official announcement. That required the conversion to be gradual and discreet. The FKO pointed out that even after the public conversion, the MKO still could not genuinely reveal its communist ideology when recruiting. Shahram responded, “Communism is a scientific issue,” and “we cannot tell a worker from the outset and at once that there is no God. S/he is a sympathizer who [still] needs to go through a transition” (Matn-e Kamel-e 2014, 45). All of this pointed to the MKO’s opportunistic use of Marxism instead of a sincere ideological transformation, according to the FKO. While traditional religious circles had accused the MKO of being a Marxist organization in disguise to undermine its religious authenticity, the FKO now expressed concerns, or so it claimed, that the MKO was concealing its religious core behind a Marxist facade.

Surprised by the FKO’s insistence that the MKO’s renunciation of Islam was disingenuous, the latter’s leader referred to numerous criticisms of Islam in the MKO’s statements in the run-up to and after the conversion. Highlighting these “attacks” on Islam, he questioned how a religious base could possibly provide resources to the newly Marxist MKO. (Matn-e Kamel-e 2014, 39-40). Shahram’s claims suggest that the MKO’s statements and actions in the conversion phase were at least partly aimed at showing sincerity to the competing FKO. Shahram accused the FKO of fearing the rise of a powerful co-ideologue and, consequently, of withholding Marxist books from the MKO during its formative years (Matn-e Kamel-e 2014, 55). He sarcastically asked why the FKO had a more favorable view of the MKO when it was Islamist than when it was Marxist: “Until yesterday, weren’t we representing them [the religious petite bourgeoisie class]!? Weren’t you endorsing us as such? Why were you endorsing us?” (Matn-e Kamel-e 2014, 41). To the FKO, a more appropriate move for the MKO’s Marxist converts would have been either to split as a new organization or join the FKO. But Shahram said he and his faction initially considered a Marxist split, however, they eventually concluded that they wanted to prove that the organization as a whole, in practice, and through a natural and bottom-up revolutionary act, inevitably became Marxist (Matn-e Kamel-e 2014, 13, 41). He assured Ashraf that the MKO never intended to deceive the FKO by claiming to be a Marxist organization while in reality remaining a hybrid one to tap into a wider pool of resources (Matn-e Kamel-e 2014, 209). He bragged about the MKO’s success in attracting new Marxist members and pledged that if they united, the MKO would prioritize the collective “[Marxist armed struggle] movement’s interests” over its own organizational interests (Matn-e Kamel-e 2014, 347). As their debates became more tense, both leaders claimed credit for various operations against the state and the U.S. military advisors in Iran. Both sides accused each other of downplaying the other’s role in these operations in their public statements (Matn-e Kamel-e 2014, 36-37, 77-81).

After nine months of negotiations, the two groups could only agree to publish two theoretical journal issues. Even then each organization could only review the articles submitted by its own members and had to fully accept the submissions of the other group (MKO 1977, 24-29). Neither side was prepared to lose control over its interpretation of Marxism and leadership claims. After these meetings, both the MKO and the FKO maintained communication through publications or letters, relying on theoretical Marxist-Leninist writings to argue for or against unity. The FKO contended that neither the armed struggle, nor the class struggle in Iran had reached a level that warranted unity among revolutionary Marxist forces in the absence of a communist party. In response, the MKO, while citing Marxist literature and even the writings of FKO leaders, sarcastically translated its rival’s ideological argument in the following:

The MKO thus accused the FKO of claiming monopoly over the initiation and leadership of the armed struggle and conditioning unity to the absolute submission of other groups to its authority (MKO 1977, 182).

As the organizations’ ideological tensions rose, their collaborations and intelligence sharing declined. Meanwhile, state repression intensified, demonstrating unprecedented effectiveness in dismantling armed group cells. On June 29, 1976, FKO’s Ashraf died in a street battle with security agents after the MKO’s Shahram had reportedly refused to tip him off by sharing information gathered through his radio interceptions (Shahsavandi Reference Shahsavandi2022a). In the coming months, the state disrupted the network of both organizations. Many of their leaders and members were killed, captured, or went underground. Others, such as the MKO’s Shahram, escaped abroad.

The MKO’s conversion to Marxism proved detrimental to its collaboration with the FKO. While Shahram reportedly justified halting intelligence sharing by accusing the FKO of mishandling the provided equipment, it is believed that his true motive was to exploit the escalating state crackdown, which he anticipated would further weaken the FKO and hasten its absorption into the MKO. In response to his directive to cease material support to the FKO, some MKO members wryly noted how the “petit bourgeois” organization—a nod to its earlier Islamist phase—had once collaborated with the proletarian FKO but no longer did so now that it had itself become a proletarian organization (Shahsavandi Reference Shahsavandi2022b). In a letter to the FKO, apparently written after Ashraf’s death at the hands of security forces, the MKO once again advocated for debates on unification. The letter acknowledged concerns about how the escalating security environment might affect negotiations: one group might hesitate to participate due to a weaker position, while the other could opportunistically “dictate” terms (MKO 1977, 42). Given that the FKO suffered more severely—losing its leadership cadre, while the MKO lost lower-ranking members, as the letter states—it is plausible that Shahram believed he held the upper hand and could position himself as the sole Marxist vanguard. This interpretation is further supported by the condescending tone of many MKO communications with the FKO during this period (Naderi Reference Naderi2007, 798).

Alternative Explanations

Alternative explanations for the MKO’s adversarial relations during the three phases center on ideological differences and balance of power among competing groups. In both the first and third Islamist phases, one theory suggests that the MKO’s interpretation of Islam, marked by its anti-clericalism and Marxist tendencies, led to conflict with Khomeini (e.g., Sazman-e Mojahedin-e Khalq, 2006). The MKO rejected the traditional role of the clergy in Iranian society and politics, advocating a “progressive” ideology that the Shi’a clergy deemed deviant. Khomeini’s mistrust was further fueled by the MKO’s Marxist tendencies, fearing that the organization might radicalize youth toward communism. This stance precluded any potential alliance with the MKO.

While it is plausible that Khomeini genuinely viewed the MKO as hypocritical and heretical, ideological differences alone cannot explain the conflict. Khomeini had ideological disagreements with various groups, yet he managed to ally with many during his political career. For instance, he cooperated with Marxist factions while contending with the Islamist MKO and quietist clergy who challenged his leadership. Strong evidence suggests he might have tolerated the MKO if the organization had pledged loyalty to him. The militant clergy warned MKO’s leaders to follow the path of defected members and align with Khomeini, or they would be eliminated. However, the MKO responded by asserting that Khomeini’s rise was facilitated by their sacrifices against the Shah (Harvard Iranian Oral History Project 1984, 21).

Similarly, the inability of the FKO and the MKO to unite has been attributed to their divergent interpretations of Marxism, influenced by figures like Che Guevara and Mao, leading to different ideological trajectories (Abrahamian Reference Abrahamian1980, 12). However, this explanation too assumes rigid ideological positions, overlooking the fluidity of ideas and alliances. A closer examination shows that their ideological stances and alliances were subject to change. Both the MKO and FKO shared hostility towards the Soviet-backed Tudeh Party, which opposed armed struggle and criticized other Iranian Marxist groups for heretical Marxist-Leninist interpretations. After the revolution, the FKO split, with its majority faction aligning with the Tudeh Party to support Khomeini. Interestingly, the Islamist MKO also engaged in covert cooperation with the Soviet Union until its agent was caught transferring classified documents to Moscow during the revolutionary upheaval.Footnote ¹¹ These shifting alliances suggest that ideological positions among Marxist groups were more fluid than static.

Finally, if power balance were the primary driving force in inter-rebel conflict, with ideology playing only a post-facto justificatory role, the MKO should have cooperated with both the militant clergy and the FKO against the vastly more powerful monarch. Instead, it competed with the clergy and, after its Marxist conversion, ended joint operations and ceased intelligence sharing with the FKO, despite increasing state repression against both organizations. Similarly, after the revolution, when the MKO reversed to Islamism, the organization should have bandwagoned, as the FKO did, with the far more powerful Khomeini-led Islamist clergy and the IRGC after 1979, rather than engaging in a fatal armed struggle against them to capture the weak state.