A Glimpse into the Life and Revolutionary Struggles of Imam Khomeini in the Statements of the Islamic Republic Supreme Leader

The Export of the Revolution

Faezeh Ssasanikhah
Translated by Kianoush Borzouei

2025-6-10

There is no doubt that the revered name of Imam made its way across distant lands and applied its profound influence. I once expressed this very point to Imam himself. There were regions so remote that even the faintest echo of our official propaganda had not reached them. And yet, the enemy's radio broadcasts—careless of the consequences of their own actions—unknowingly disseminated news of Imam throughout the world. Wherever the name of Imam was heard, that land blossomed; and if it was barren, it flourished by the sheer blessing of his name and words. This occurred even though we had played no role in transmitting that message. As some of our friends have remarked, there were places which very existence we were unaware of—yet, before we ever arrived, the message of Imam had already taken root. Wherever someone traveled from here, the people there discerned in them the countenance of Imam.

On one occasion, I visited a prominent Islamic country. As we departed from the airport and were driven to the designated meeting place, I noticed the demeanor of the president of that country—it was as though he were captivated by a majestic presence. He could neither speak comfortably nor sit with ease. (May 5, 1994) His manner—so diffident, intimidated, and unsettled—was truly astonishing. The awe he felt toward the revolution had rendered him speechless. I initiated the conversation with dull questions—about the weather and the city’s streets—until gradually he began to speak. Upon returning to Iran, I recounted the incident to Imam and said: "It was your presence and your commanding aura that struck fear into him; we, in ourselves, are of no account." Wherever we go, the people perceive in us the visage of the Imam, his presence, and his unwavering and resolute will in every fiber of this system. (May 3, 2003)

I recall that during my presidency, I was preparing to participate in an international assembly and deliver a speech^[1]. It was customary for me to present the drafts of such speeches to Imam beforehand, so that he might offer his insights. For this particular address—set to be delivered before an audience comprising mainly non-Muslim world leaders—Imam advised me to include the notion of the inseparability of religion and politics in the text. I was initially puzzled, questioning the relevance of such a theme in that setting. Nevertheless, out of a sense of duty and obedience to his guidance, I ensured that the idea was incorporated.

Ultimately, I added a passage of one or two pages elaborating on the indivisibility of religion and politics, placing it prominently at the beginning of the speech.

 As time passed, I came to believe ever more firmly in the wisdom of his directive. Even then, upon returning from the event, I told my colleagues: "At first, the Imam’s suggestion struck me as unusual, but after delivering the address, I understood its profound correctness." Imam had repeatedly emphasized this point because it had long been the target of sustained ideological attacks. The adversaries had worked extensively to promote the separation of religion from politics. (March 8, 1997) This, indeed, is the true meaning of exporting the revolution: to project the intellectual framework upon which the Islamic Republic is founded—its core principles—onto the global stage. It is precisely what the enemy has always sought to suppress. (March 1, 1985)

Of course, over time, the voices of bold visionaries were stifled to the point where few dared to even utter the phrase "exporting the revolution." If by this phrase one means dispatching weapons and establishing party-based political structures in foreign countries—such as the approach once taken by the former Soviet Union in parts of Africa and Latin America—then I must unequivocally state that this was never our aim. When Imam declared that the revolution must be exported, he did not mean rifles, RPGs, political apparatuses, or organizational blueprints. Such ideas never even crossed his mind. The export of the revolution means the transmission of thought, of faith, of love. How can one obstruct it? How can one prevent a spring breeze from crossing into a distant land? How can one suppress the fragrance of a flower from escaping the confines of a garden wall? In this sense, who can halt the revolution’s outward journey? Even if we wished to restrain it—could we? Are we the revolution? Do we own it? Who are we to claim authority over its diffusion? The revolution is a living current—it surges forth of its own accord, it radiates outward, fertilizing hearts far and wide—and it continues to do so. Today, in every corner of the Islamic world, wherever you go—except among that portion of people wholly oblivious to all things (for in every society, there exists a segment of individuals who cannot see beyond the physical bounds of their existence)—any soul with even a trace of high aspiration harbors reverence for Imam and respect for the revolution^[2]. (November 16, 2000)