In the winter of 1979, as Iran stood on the brink of a historic transformation, a little-known and highly controversial chapter of U.S. foreign policy quietly unfolded behind closed doors. Those crucial days—often referred to as “two weeks in January”—have since become the subject of debate among historians, political analysts, and skeptics alike. At the heart of the matter lies a provocative question: did the United States, long a steadfast supporter of the Shah of Iran, secretly engage with Ayatollah Ruhollah Khomeini, the very figure who would soon lead a revolution against that regime?
To understand the significance of this period, it is essential to grasp the geopolitical context of late 1970s Iran. The country had been ruled for decades by Shah Mohammad Reza Pahlavi, a monarch closely aligned with Western interests, particularly those of the United States. His regime was marked by rapid modernization and economic development, but also by increasing authoritarianism, widespread corruption, and brutal repression carried out by the secret police, SAVAK. By 1978, popular dissatisfaction had reached a boiling point. Protests erupted across the country, bringing together a diverse coalition of secular liberals, leftists, religious groups, and ordinary citizens united in opposition to the Shah.
As unrest intensified, Ayatollah Khomeini emerged as the symbolic and ideological leader of the revolution. Exiled for years, he communicated with supporters through recorded sermons and written messages smuggled into Iran. By late 1978, his influence had grown so powerful that even from afar, he was effectively directing the revolutionary movement. Meanwhile, the Shah’s position grew increasingly untenable. Strikes crippled the economy, demonstrations swelled into the millions, and the loyalty of the military began to waver.
The United States, under President Jimmy Carter, faced a complex dilemma. On one hand, the Shah had long been a key ally in the region, serving as a bulwark against Soviet influence during the Cold War. On the other hand, the scale of unrest suggested that his regime might not survive. American policymakers were forced to consider the possibility of a post-Shah Iran—and, more controversially, whether engagement with Khomeini might be necessary to protect U.S. interests.
It is within this context that the alleged “secret engagement” took place. According to various reports and later accounts, representatives of the U.S. government established indirect lines of communication with Khomeini’s circle during the final weeks before the Shah’s departure from Iran in January 1979. These contacts were not formal diplomatic negotiations but rather cautious, exploratory exchanges intended to gauge Khomeini’s intentions and to ensure that any transition of power would not result in chaos—or worse, a pro-Soviet regime.
Much of this communication reportedly occurred through intermediaries, including diplomats, academics, and foreign officials who had access to Khomeini during his exile in France. One key location was Neauphle-le-Château, the village outside Paris where Khomeini resided before returning to Iran. There, a steady stream of journalists, supporters, and political figures visited him, making it an ideal setting for discreet back-channel contacts.
The substance of these communications remains a matter of debate. Some accounts suggest that Khomeini’s representatives sought to reassure the United States that an Islamic government would not necessarily be hostile to American interests. They reportedly indicated that Iran would continue to export oil, maintain stability in the region, and avoid alignment with the Soviet Union. In return, the United States was expected to refrain from intervening militarily to save the Shah’s regime.
From the American perspective, such assurances would have been significant. The Carter administration was deeply concerned about the potential for Iran to descend into chaos or fall under communist influence. If Khomeini could be seen as a nationalist rather than a radical ideologue, then a cautious accommodation might have appeared preferable to outright confrontation.
However, critics of this narrative argue that the idea of a deliberate “secret engagement” is overstated or misinterpreted. They contend that any contacts that did occur were limited in scope and driven more by necessity than by strategic intent. In a rapidly evolving crisis, it was only natural for diplomats to seek information and maintain channels of communication with all relevant actors. From this perspective, the notion of a coordinated effort to “back” Khomeini is misleading.
Others take a more critical view, suggesting that U.S. policymakers underestimated the ideological nature of Khomeini’s movement. They argue that any attempt to engage with him reflected a fundamental misreading of his goals and the character of the revolution. Khomeini’s vision for Iran was not merely political but deeply religious, rooted in a rejection of Western influence and a desire to establish an اسلامی حکومت (Islamic government) based on his interpretation of Shi’a Islam. If American officials believed they could moderate or influence him through dialogue, they were likely mistaken.
The events that followed seem to support this more skeptical interpretation. After returning to Iran in February 1979, Khomeini quickly consolidated power, sidelining moderate and secular elements of the الثورة. By the end of the year, the relationship between Iran and the United States had deteriorated dramatically, culminating in the seizure of the U.S. Embassy in Tehran and the hostage crisis that would last 444 days. Any hopes of a cooperative relationship were effectively extinguished.
Yet the question remains: what exactly happened during those two weeks in January? The answer is complicated by the nature of the evidence. Much of what is known comes from memoirs, declassified documents, and investigative journalism, each with its own limitations and biases. Some documents suggest that U.S. officials were indeed exploring ways to engage with Khomeini, while others indicate confusion and disagreement within the administration about how to handle the crisis.
Internal divisions within the Carter administration further complicate the picture. Some advisors advocated continued support for the Shah, including the possibility of military intervention to restore order. Others argued that the Shah’s time was up and that the United States should prepare for a transition. These differing perspectives likely influenced the extent and nature of any contacts with Khomeini’s representatives.
Another important factor is the role of miscommunication and misunderstanding. Even if messages were exchanged, there is no guarantee that both sides interpreted them in the same way. What American officials may have seen as pragmatic assurances could have been viewed by Khomeini’s camp as tactical statements designed to avoid interference until power was secured.
The legacy of these events continues to shape discussions about U.S. foreign policy. For some, the idea that Washington may have engaged with a revolutionary leader who would soon become a staunch adversary is a cautionary tale about the limits of diplomacy and the dangers of misjudging ideological movements. For others, it highlights the complexity of decision-making in times of crisis, where imperfect information and rapidly changing circumstances force policymakers to make difficult choices.
In recent years, renewed interest in this episode has been fueled by the declassification of additional documents and the publication of new research. Historians continue to debate the extent to which the United States influenced—or failed to influence—the outcome of the Iranian Revolution. While some argue that American actions played a decisive role, others maintain that the الثورة was driven primarily by internal factors beyond the control of any external power.
What is clear is that the final weeks of the Shah’s rule were a moment of profound uncertainty, both for Iran and for the United States. The possibility of engaging with Khomeini, however tentative, reflected a recognition that the old order was collapsing and that a new reality was emerging. Whether that engagement was a prudent attempt at adaptation or a misguided gamble remains a matter of interpretation.
Ultimately, the story of “two weeks in January” serves as a reminder of the complexities of international relations. It underscores the challenges of navigating political upheaval in foreign countries, particularly when longstanding alliances are at stake. It also highlights the importance of understanding the cultural, ideological, and historical forces that shape revolutionary movements—factors that cannot always be addressed through diplomacy alone.
As historians continue to examine this period, the narrative may evolve, incorporating new evidence and perspectives. But the central questions—about intent, understanding, and consequence—are likely to endure. In the end, the episode stands as a compelling case study in the uncertainties of foreign policy, where decisions made in the shadows can have far-reaching and unforeseen consequences.
