Dr. Iraj Abedini, Psychologist, Sweden
On social media and in live meetings, the question has often been raised: “Why has Mr. Massoud Rajavi, the historical leader of the People’s Mojahedin Organization of Iran, not appeared in public for so many years?” Although on the surface this may seem like a political question, at a deeper level it touches, in my view, one of the most fundamental dimensions of human experience and conscious leadership.
The diverse answers offered by the Mojahedin and their supporters reflect the many psychological and symbolic layers of this issue. Some attribute his absence to security concerns; others interpret it as a continuation of a symbolic strategy; still others see it as an expression of a “transcendent presence” or a form of “self-dissolution in the collective.” Yet beyond these explanations, this phenomenon can be understood as a psychological and existential experience, one in which the concept of leadership evolves from “image” to “awareness” and from “individual” to “collective.” I referred briefly to this matter in my recent essay, Why I Support the Mojahedin and the National Council of Resistance of Iran.
From the standpoint of leadership psychology, the voluntary withdrawal of a leader from the arena of display and image is a sign of mature self-awareness. In Maslow’s theory, such a moment marks the transition from the need for control, fame, or possession to the stage of self-actualization and conscious altruism. At this level, the leader no longer needs to be “seen” in order “to be.” His being endures within the awareness and inner presence of others. Regarding the Mojahedin and their leadership, my answer, based on the psychology of leadership and the experience of consciousness growth within a movement for freedom, is clear: Rajavi chose to transform leadership from performance to growth and from physical presence to collective consciousness.
In our political culture, leadership is usually measured by outward presence, by the continual image and voice of the leader. Yet on a higher plane of psychological maturity, leadership means creating self-awareness in others, not dominating the stage. At this level, the leader’s physical absence becomes the conscious presence of his thought in the collective mind and conscience.
At the height of political power and personal charisma, Massoud Rajavi consciously decided to step back from the center of the stage so that the arena of decision and experience could belong to the new generation, especially to women. In doing so, he created a rare model of conscious transfer of authority, one scarcely seen in Iranian or even world political history.
From the perspective of developmental psychology, such an act marks the passage from the need to dominate to the stage of self-realization. The mature leader no longer seeks to be seen but strives to see others and bring them to the stage. He stepped away from being at the center so that collective awareness could become the center. In this sense, his absence does not mean isolation but a different level of presence, a form of leadership in which consciousness replaces the face and thought replaces the image. By withdrawing from public view, he created a psychological space for growth, allowing others to experience, decide, and create awareness.
From a psychoanalytic point of view, Rajavi, in making this choice, distanced himself from the usual defense mechanisms of power. While many leaders deny the passage of time or cling to constant control to maintain authority, he chose another path, the path of transforming the self, moving from self-display to self-awareness. He realized that awareness dies when it is confined to one person but flourishes when it is shared among many. For that reason, he understood leadership not as a position of being seen but as a process of helping others to see.
His decision to withdraw from the stage must therefore be viewed as part of a revolution in the very concept of leadership, a leadership defined not by physical presence but by the transfer of consciousness. As developmental psychology teaches, “At the moment when a person can possess and chooses not to, he reaches the highest level of self-awareness.” Rajavi, when he could have accumulated power, chose instead to distribute it. When he could have kept himself at the center of attention, he consciously stepped out of the spotlight so that others might shine.
In the political and human experience of the Mojahedin, his absence is not a void but a field of education, a workshop of collective awareness where responsibility replaces obedience and thought replaces dependence. Put simply, he transformed leadership from being framed in an image to flowing through the collective conscience. In leadership psychology, this is precisely the point where leadership rises from the personal to the historical level.
Massoud Rajavi teaches us that true leadership lies not in being seen but in the capacity to see others, in setting consciousness in motion rather than imprisoning it within oneself. Therefore, his nonappearance in public should not be regarded as concealment but as a conscious handover of presence, a transition from individual leadership to collective leadership and from the display of power to the cultivation of awareness.
On the existential level, this kind of absence is a form of silent yet living presence, a presence that endures not in the body but in meaning, relationship, and collective existential direction. Just as in existential philosophy being always precedes appearance, so too Rajavi’s absence can be seen as a transcendence from the outward form of leadership to its existential essence. Rather than fixing himself in the gaze of others, he has immersed himself in the current of collective consciousness.
In this sense, Rajavi’s absence is not a sign of weakness or rupture but of liberation from the captivity of image and role. At a time when he could have consolidated personal power, he relinquished it so that awareness might blossom in others. From this viewpoint, entrusting leadership to Maryam Rajavi was not merely an organizational decision but an existential act, a passage from “I” to “We.”
Hence, the answer to the question “Why does he not appear?” lies in this: because his presence is no longer defined physically but exists within collective consciousness, within the spirit of resistance, and within the liberating actions of the new generation. He has left the visible stage in order to remain on the inner stage of human beings and in the course of history. And in precisely this sense, his absence is itself a form of presence, a presence within the conscience of a movement, in the minds of thousands of free thinkers, and in the unfolding process that binds leadership to collective self-awareness.