Political activist and human rights advocate
It may be too early to issue verdicts on the war unfolding around Iran since conflicts of this scale rarely follow the scripts imagined in their first weeks and early judgments often prove premature.
Each time tensions escalate between the United States, Israel and the Islamic Republic of Iran, however, a familiar pattern emerges in Western commentary. Before events have meaningfully unfolded, a chorus of analysts moves quickly to declare failure. T
he comparisons are predictable: Iraq, Afghanistan, quagmires. The conclusion is often presented as inevitable.
This reflex deserves scrutiny. Skepticism is necessary in matters of war. But when skepticism hardens into certainty, it ceases to be analysis. To assert at the outset that success is impossible is not caution; it is intellectual closure. Every conflict contains a range of possible outcomes, and serious analysis requires acknowledging that reality.
Part of the current pessimism is political. Assessments of strategy are often filtered through attitudes toward leadership, particularly in the case of President Donald Trump.
For many critics, this leads to the presumption that any policy associated with him must fail. But political actors are rarely defined by a single dimension. The same American founders who articulated the principle that “all men are created equal” also upheld slavery.
Whatever one’s broader evaluation of Trump, the objective of preventing the Islamic Republic from becoming a nuclear power addresses a widely recognized security concern. Judging that objective should not depend on personal or partisan preferences, but on its strategic implications.
Many Middle Eastern states are concerned about Tehran’s regional power projection. Cross-border attacks, missile strikes and the use of proxy forces such as Hezbollah reinforce fears that Iran’s leaders are willing to escalate conflict to preserve their position.
Yet the most common analytical error may lie elsewhere: in assumptions about Iranian society. Political theorists from Antonio Gramsci onward have emphasized that durable power requires more than coercion. It requires a governing narrative, a form of “common sense” that people internalize and that gives legitimacy to rule.
The Islamic Republic once possessed such a narrative, rooted in revolutionary ideology and religious authority. But that narrative has eroded; large segments of Iranian society no longer identify with the ideological foundations of the state.
This matters because regimes that lose narrative cohesion often become increasingly dependent on force. They can persist for long periods, but in a more brittle and reactive form.
During the 12-day conflict in June, reactions inside Iran appeared complex rather than uniformly relieved. While many welcomed the ceasefire, reporting from within the country pointed to a mix of fear, uncertainty and guarded expectation. As Israel’s battlefield advantage became apparent, some Iranians expressed concern that the regime might turn inward to reassert control.
The deadly crackdown that followed in January 2026 underscored the argument that the state’s first instinct when challenged is repression.
A different concern has also surfaced in some discussions among Iranians: that conflict might end prematurely, leaving the regime intact and emboldened. For a population that has repeatedly risked its life in protest, partial measures carry their own consequences.
In Iraq and Afghanistan, external intervention collided with deeply fragmented societies marked by sectarian divisions, tribal rivalries and competing power centers. Iran has its own social and political cleavages, but not necessarily the same degree of entrenched sectarian fragmentation.
Opposition to the Islamic Republic frequently cuts across class, gender and regional lines, creating a form of shared political discontent that differs from those earlier conflicts.
Those ruling Iran appear aware of this vulnerability. Several senior officials have used state media in recent weeks to warn citizens against protest. A government at war focusing on controlling its own population may reveal a measure of insecurity rather than strength.
A similar pattern is visible in its information strategy. Governments confident in their position rarely need to shut down internet access for tens of millions of people. Nor do they typically rely on implausible claims of battlefield success, including reports circulated on state media suggesting the downing of advanced fighter jets, the destruction of major Israeli cities or even the death of senior Israeli leaders such as Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu.
Meanwhile, the external balance has also shifted in ways that are often underappreciated. Israel and the United States have killed several key figures since they began their attacks on Feb. 28. Tehran’s reaction—striking many neighboring states have—has expanded concern beyond its traditional adversaries.
Governments that previously sought to manage relations with Iran now face a more direct security calculus, some even reportedly pondering a more direct involvement in the war.
None of this guarantees a particular outcome. The Islamic Republic retains significant resources, including coercive capacity, financial networks and ideological constituencies. It also benefits from the willingness of committed supporters to endure high costs, reinforced by narratives that valorize sacrifice and martyrdom.
But acknowledging these realities does not require ignoring countervailing pressures. A regime that faces internal discontent, increasing reliance on repression and expanding external pressure may prove less stable than it appears.
To interpret its most extreme actions solely as signs of strength risks misunderstanding the nature of power. Erratic behavior can reflect desperation as much as confidence.
A more balanced assessment would therefore consider not only the lessons of Iraq and Afghanistan, but also the conditions that distinguish Iran: the erosion of ideological legitimacy, the agency of its society and a shifting regional environment.
Iran is not Iraq. It is not Afghanistan. Its trajectory is not predetermined.
The more relevant question is not whether failure is inevitable, but whether current analysis adequately captures the possibility that this moment—shaped by internal and external pressures alike—may unfold differently.
