
War Against Iran: A Major Strategic Rupture or the Beginning of a New Unstable Balance?
War Against Iran: A Major Strategic Rupture or the Beginning of a New Unstable Balance?
3/24/2026
By Maceo Ouitona and Franck Radjai
Since February 28, 2026, the Middle East has entered a phase of open confrontation of unprecedented intensity. The joint offensive by the United States and Israel against Iran, followed by a massive retaliation from Tehran targeting several states in the region, has transformed a long-standing rivalry into a systemic war. The elimination of Supreme Leader Ali Khamenei, the central figure of the regime for more than three decades, and the emergence of a new leadership mark a historic turning point. But beyond the immediate shock, this war raises a central question: are we witnessing the gradual collapse of the Islamic Republic or its transformation under duress?
A pivotal event: the elimination of the Supreme Leader in the context of open warfare
The announcement came as a shock. On February 28, 2026, the day after the first American and Israeli strikes on Iranian territory, the death of Ali Khamenei was confirmed by several sources. According to available information, the Supreme Leader was hit during a series of bombings targeting command centers and infrastructure linked to the Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps (IRGC).
For the first time since the 1979 Iranian Revolution, the heart of Iranian power was directly struck. And with it, the political architecture of the regime.
The offensive launched at the end of February did not come out of nowhere. It was part of a gradual escalation of tensions between Tehran, Washington, and Tel Aviv. For years, confrontations had been multiplying: indirect strikes, covert warfare, attacks via regional allies. But this time, a threshold had been crossed. By directly targeting Iranian territory, the United States and Israel had adopted a change of posture: shifting from a strategy of pressure to one of open confrontation. One often misunderstood reality remains: the Islamic Republic is not based on a classic democratic system. Elections exist, but they are tightly controlled. The Guardian Council filters candidacies, rejects those deemed incompatible with the regime's agenda, and effectively prevents any real change of power. Power is organized around an ideological and security core, far more than around a logic of representation.
In this system, the Supreme Leader is not simply an arbiter. He plays a key role in the system and, as such, embodies the balance between the regime's various forces. His death, therefore, does not merely create a political vacuum: it opens a period of uncertainty, where internal power dynamics become decisive. The appointment of his son, Mojtaba Khamenei, to head the system is part of this logic of urgency. It aims to prevent an immediate collapse, but also raises a major contradiction. The regime born from the Shah's fall is adopting, under pressure, reflexes reminiscent of a hereditary succession of power.
In the shadows, other actors are advancing their positions. The Revolutionary Guards (Pasdaran), already at the heart of the security apparatus, appear as the true arbiters of this sequence. Their influence could expand even further, to the point of redefining the regime's internal balance. The death of Khamenei therefore does not automatically signal the end of the Islamic Republic. Rather, it marks the entry into a zone of uncertainty, where external war and internal tensions interact, without the outcome yet being clear.
A regional war out of control: Iran has chosen to expand the battlefield
Initially, the February 28 offensive could still be interpreted as a strategic decapitation operation carried out against the center of Iranian power. Very quickly, this interpretation shattered. In just a few days, the conflict ceased to be a simple standoff between Israel, the United States, and Iran. It became a full-fledged regional war, with military, energy, and political ramifications that now extend far beyond Iran's borders.
Tehran's logic became clear almost immediately. After the American-Israeli strikes on its territory and the death of Ali Khamenei, the Islamic Republic did not simply seek to retaliate against Israel. It wanted to make the entire security architecture built by Washington in the Gulf pay the price of the war. American bases, energy facilities, logistics platforms, maritime corridors, and Arab partners of the United States: everything that contributes to the projection of Western power in the region is now considered, from the Iranian perspective, a legitimate target.
This choice marks a significant break. For a long time, Iran favored an indirect strategy, relying on its regional proxies, from Lebanon to Iraq, including Syria and certain armed groups in the region. This time, the Iranian regime has taken a further step. It is no longer simply a proxy war. It is a regional war of saturation, designed to divert the adversary's attention, increase the political cost of the conflict, and serve as a reminder that no military victory against Iran can be achieved without destabilizing the entire Middle East.
The first consequence of this strategy is visible in the Gulf. Saudi Arabia, the United Arab Emirates, Qatar, Bahrain, and Kuwait are no longer merely peripheral actors or cautious allies of Washington. They have once again become areas of direct confrontation. The increasing number of strikes, interceptions, and alerts around their airports, energy infrastructure, and military bases serves as a stark reminder of an often underestimated truth: the security of these monarchies rests on a fragile balance, dependent on American protection but also on Iranian restraint. When this restraint disappears, the entire Gulf energy front enters a zone of vulnerability. This is precisely what explains the extreme nervousness of the markets and the sharp rise in oil prices since the beginning of the war.
Iran is playing a well-known card here, but one taken to a rarely seen degree. Tehran knows it cannot directly compete with American air power or Israeli technological capabilities. However, it can transform regional geography into a deterrent. The Strait of Hormuz, the Gulf's gas facilities, maritime routes, oil terminals, and American forward operating bases all constitute points of leverage. When Israel strikes at the heart of Iran's security apparatus, Tehran responds by threatening the political economy of the entire region. The threats targeting Saudi, Emirati, and Qatari facilities, following the strikes on the South Pars gas field, demonstrate that the Islamic Republic is now seeking to impose a simple equation: if Iran burns, the Gulf will not be spared.
But the conflict is not confined to the Gulf. Lebanon has already entered a new phase of the war. After Hezbollah's entry into the fray in the name of solidarity with Iran and revenge for Khamenei's death, Israel intensified its strikes on Beirut and the south of the country, even targeting communication routes and structures accused of supporting the Shiite movement's financial apparatus. In a matter of weeks, the death toll has skyrocketed, and population displacements are now widespread. This sequence confirms a constant in the regional system: as soon as the confrontation between Israel and Iran escalates, Lebanon once again becomes one of the first theaters to absorb the shock.
This Lebanese front is central because it reveals one of the paradoxes of the current war. Iran wants to broaden the conflict to make it more costly for its adversaries. But the more the war spreads, the higher the price its regional partners themselves pay. This is already evident with Hezbollah, which is facing not only Israeli military pressure but also growing weariness among a segment of its social base in Lebanon. This point is crucial: the "axis of resistance" draws its strength from its deep local political roots. If this base weakens, the strategic utility of these relays remains intact in the short term, but their medium-term stability becomes more uncertain.
Iraq constitutes another major point of tension. For years, the country has occupied an intermediate position, simultaneously an area of Iranian influence, a security partner of the United States, and an arena of rivalries between militias, the central government, and external powers. In the current war, this position is becoming almost untenable. American bases are exposed there, pro-Iranian armed groups see it as a testing ground for revenge, and Baghdad once again finds itself forced to manage a conflict it did not initiate, but whose effects it directly suffers. This reinforces the idea that Iraq remains, more than ever, the porous link in the regional architecture. When the confrontation escalates between Washington, Tel Aviv, and Tehran, it is always one of the first areas where the conflict multiplies.
Syria, too, remains a latent theater of operations. Even when it is not the main front, it remains a transit zone, a space for intelligence gathering, indirect strikes, and power projection for several actors. In a war of this magnitude, it inevitably reverts to its function as an unstable buffer zone, where Israeli-Iranian rivalries are embedded in a longer-standing pattern of territorial fragmentation and cross-interference.
It is also necessary to consider what this war means for the United States. Washington possesses overwhelming military superiority, but this superiority also creates a strategic dependence on its regional allies. The more American installations are targeted, the more the Gulf monarchies demand protection, coordination, and guarantees. In other words, the more the war expands, the more the United States is drawn into a regional security role whose cost it had been trying to reduce for several years. This is the paradox of this sequence of events: by attempting to strike Iran hard, Washington risks finding itself once again trapped in the perpetual management of Middle Eastern disorder. Israel, for its part, is pursuing a different logic. For the Jewish state, the objective is not merely military. It is about breaking Iran's strategic depth, demonstrating that the regime's sanctuaries are no longer protected, and permanently weakening the adversary's chain of command. The targeted assassinations of top Iranian officials, even beyond Khamenei, testify to a very deep intelligence penetration. But this tactical success also produces a side effect: the more Israel demonstrates its ability to strike at the highest levels of the Iranian regime, the more it pushes Tehran to shift the war to more diffuse, unpredictable, and costly battlegrounds for everyone involved.
This is where the real danger lies. This war is no longer simply a series of confrontations. It is becoming an autonomous regional mechanism, fueled by the escalation itself. Each strike creates a potential new front. Each assassination prompts a new show of force. Each threat to energy infrastructure introduces a global economic risk. The conflict is therefore changing in nature: it is no longer simply a question of who strikes the hardest, but who can withstand the effects of a war with no clear exit strategy the longest.
In reality, the Middle East has entered a phase where the distinction between central war and peripheral fronts is blurring. The Gulf, Lebanon, Iraq, maritime routes, energy markets, Western bases, and even diplomatic channels are now caught in the same trap. This is what makes the current situation so dangerous. Once unleashed, such a war does not simply destroy targets. It reshapes regional hierarchies, disrupts alliances, tests the loyalty of partners, and redistributes vulnerabilities.
In other words, Iran did not simply respond to an attack. He sought to redraw the battlefield to signal that any attempt to neutralize him militarily would lead to widespread destabilization of the Middle East. On this point, the message was received. It remains to be seen whether this regionalization strategy will strengthen the regime's capacity for survival or whether, on the contrary, it will hasten the isolation of a power that is now fighting for its very survival in a war with increasingly uncontrollable contours.
Israel and the United States: Military Superiority That Doesn't Solve the Political Equation
Militarily, there is no debate. The United States and Israel possess overwhelming superiority over Iran. The precision of their strikes, the depth of their intelligence, and their ability to reach strategic targets deep within Iranian territory all attest to this. The elimination of Ali Khamenei, along with that of several leading figures in the security apparatus, illustrates a level of penetration rarely seen in a state of this size.
But this tactical dominance raises a more fundamental question: what to do with a military victory when the political objective remains unclear?
For Israel, the approach has remained relatively consistent for several decades. It is to prevent the emergence of a strategic Iranian threat, whether nuclear, military, or regional. This doctrine, consolidated under the leadership of Benjamin Netanyahu, rests on a simple idea: strike early, strike hard, and never let the adversary reach a critical threshold. In this context, the current war appears as the culmination of a long process. After years of covert warfare—cyberattacks, sabotage, targeted assassinations—Israel crossed a threshold by accepting the principle of direct confrontation with Iran. The message is clear: Iran's strategic sanctuaries are no longer beyond reach.
But this strategy has a major limitation. By striking the center of Iranian power, Israel achieves immediate gains. It disorganizes, it disrupts, it imposes a balance of power. Yet, it does not control what happens next. Because Iran, unable to respond symmetrically, shifts the conflict. It expands it, it spreads it, it makes it more difficult to contain.
On the American side, the ambiguity is even more pronounced. Washington has never officially declared a doctrine of regime change in Iran during this period. Yet, the very nature of the strikes—targeting strategic infrastructure and key figures in power—de facto points in that direction.
This strategic ambiguity is not insignificant. It reflects a deep tension in American policy in the Middle East. On the one hand, there is the desire to permanently weaken an adversary perceived as destabilizing. On the other, there is the fear of a familiar scenario: that of a military engagement leading to prolonged instability, without a viable political solution. The Iraqi and Afghan precedents continue to weigh heavily. They have shown that overwhelming military superiority guarantees neither the stabilization of a country nor the construction of a lasting political order. In the Iranian case, the risks are even greater. Iran is neither a failed state nor an isolated regime without support. It possesses strategic depth, a robust state apparatus, and a network of regional alliances that allow it to absorb the shock.
This is the crux of the problem. The United States and Israel can weaken Iran. They can destroy infrastructure, neutralize key personnel, and disrupt command structures. But at this stage, they lack a clear plan for the aftermath.
Who will govern if the regime falters? What structure will take over? How can the country's fragmentation be avoided?
These questions remain largely unanswered.
In this context, the current war reveals a classic strategic contradiction: the relative ease of military action in the face of the extreme complexity of political realignment. The more effective the strikes, the closer they bring the country to a tipping point… without guaranteeing what will come next.
Israel, for its part, seems to accept this risk. Its priority remains neutralizing the threat, even at the risk of triggering a period of regional instability. The United States, on the other hand, appears more hesitant, caught between the need to support its ally and the desire to avoid becoming bogged down in a new cycle of conflict in the Middle East.
Ultimately, Western military superiority creates a paradoxical situation. It allows for swift and decisive action, but it is not enough to structure a way out of the crisis. And the longer the conflict drags on, the more this lack of political vision becomes a risk factor in itself.
In a war like this, the question is therefore not simply who has military dominance. It is who is capable of transforming that dominance into a stable order. For now, none of the actors involved seems able to provide a convincing answer.
A Regime Under Pressure: Internal Fragility and a Survival Instinct
Long before the February 28 strikes, the mullahs' regime was already in a state of advanced fragility. Recent years have been marked by a succession of internal crises that have progressively eroded its political and social foundations. The protest movements, particularly those following the death of Mahsa Amini in 2022, and then the more recent waves of protest linked to the economic crisis, have revealed a profound shift. The protests are no longer limited to isolated demands. They challenge the very functioning of the regime. In several major cities, the slogans have evolved, shifting from targeted criticism to an outright rejection of the Islamic Republic. The authorities' response has been violent and bloody. Data published by Human Rights Activists in Iran reports a level of repression unseen for decades. Mass arrests, widespread use of lethal force, prolonged detentions, pressure on families: the regime chose a show of force. The internet shutdown and strict control of information completed this strategy, isolating the country and limiting the circulation of images and testimonies.
But this strategy comes at a cost. By seeking to stifle dissent, the regime exacerbated the rift with a segment of the population, particularly young urban generations. The economy, already weakened by international sanctions, was unable to absorb this shock. High inflation, rising unemployment, and declining purchasing power: social discontent became entrenched.
It is in this context that the war broke out. And far from creating a complete break, it became part of a dynamic already underway.
On the one hand, the conflict exposed weaknesses that the regime had been trying to contain. The strikes on Iranian territory, including sensitive sites, have damaged the image of a state capable of protecting its vital centers. For a regime that has long built its legitimacy on defending national sovereignty against external threats, this is far from insignificant.
On the other hand, the war activates a mechanism well-known in authoritarian regimes: the reflex to tighten its grip. Faced with external aggression, the regime seeks to rebuild a united front at home. The rhetoric shifts. Dissent is equated with treason, opponents with foreign proxies, and the war becomes a tool for political mobilization.
This phenomenon is not unique to Iran. It can be observed in many contexts. But in the Iranian case, it relies on a particularly robust security structure. The Revolutionary Guards (Pasdaran), already omnipresent in the economy and the state apparatus, play a central role in this phase. They control, frame, monitor, and, if necessary, repress.
What is emerging, therefore, is a dual movement that is difficult to decipher at first glance. The regime is weakened, as its weaknesses are more apparent than ever. But it is also capable of reconfiguring itself, relying on its instruments of control.
This is the inherent ambiguity of the current situation. The war does not eliminate internal tensions. It suspends them, redirects them, and sometimes amplifies them. It can delay a political crisis without resolving it.
In other words, the Islamic Republic enters this war with weakened legitimacy, but with its survival mechanisms still operational. And it is precisely this combination (political fragility and security resilience) that makes its evolution so difficult to anticipate.
Iranian Opposition: Between Political Alternative, Contested Legacy, and Uncertain Recomposition
The ongoing war mechanically offers an opportunity to the Iranian opposition. Today, two figures dominate the political landscape of the opposition.
The first is Reza Pahlavi, heir to Mohammad Reza Pahlavi, who was overthrown during the 1979 Iranian Revolution. Living in exile, he presents himself as a proponent of a democratic transition in Iran. His discourse, focused on individual freedoms and the end of the Islamic Republic, resonates with a segment of the diaspora.
But this position is far from being universally accepted. For many observers, the possibility of the Shah's heir returning to power raises significant questions. The monarchy overthrown in 1979 was itself based on an authoritarian structure characterized by the concentration of power, the repression of dissent, and a strong reliance on the security apparatus. In this context, Reza Pahlavi has been perceived by some analysts as a form of historical continuity rather than a clear democratic break. Beyond the question of its legacy, another obstacle persists: its lack of organizational roots.
Beyond the question of its legacy, another obstacle remains: its lack of organizational roots in Iran. Its international visibility contrasts sharply with its limited capacity to structure domestic mobilization. In a country where the security apparatus is omnipresent, this weakness constitutes a decisive obstacle.
Faced with this, the People's Mojahedin Organization of Iran (PMOI) emerges as an alternative of a different nature. With a long history of confrontation with the regime, it possesses a structured apparatus, an active militant network, and a presence both nationally and within the diaspora.
Under the leadership of Maryam Rajavi, the PMOI presents a political program articulated around a ten-point plan. This includes the separation of religion and state, equality between women and men, the abolition of the death penalty, and the establishment of a political system based on universal suffrage.
This structure represents a true asset in times of crisis. While other actors struggle to offer a coherent alternative, the MEK provides a clear political framework and a transition plan.
Some analysts and media outlets point to the fragmentation and lack of unity among the opposition forces, but a deeper analysis reveals a different reality. The effective force in the fight against the mullahs' regime, capable of bringing about fundamental change in Iran, is the force on the ground. It resides neither in cyberspace nor in television programs. What appears scattered and disunited are the media squabbles and controversies. But on the ground, in Iran, a network of thousands of organized resistance units has emerged. This armed force demonstrated its power just five days before the US-Israeli attack: an armed assault on Khamenei's workplace in the heart of Tehran, the main center of power. In this attack, about a hundred mujahideen were arrested or killed. The Revolutionary Guards suffered heavy losses. But the mullahs severely censored the operation. The most important aspect of this operation is the reappearance of the National Liberation Army in Iran. This is a decisive factor on the Iranian political scene. Following the massacre of several thousand young men and teenagers in January 2016, a strong impatience has emerged among the younger generation of Iranians, who yearn for an organized armed uprising. The National Liberation Army, which now has a vast network in all provinces, is responding to this deep desire.
Another major force in western Iran is the Iranian Kurdish groups. Six Kurdish groups, the main and largest of which is the Democratic Party, have united in a coalition. This coalition acts in concert and in unity with the MEK in the fight against the regime. In recent months, Western observers and media outlets have noted that Kurds and mujahideen have been organizing joint demonstrations in European capitals. Therefore, even if the American-Israeli military invasion cannot overthrow the regime, the latter faces a significant challenge after the war: the emergence of an uprising, centered on an armed and organized opposition, notably the National Liberation Army. Today, the overthrow of the regime is no longer out of reach.
Conclusion: A war that redefines the rules of the game, without guaranteeing the outcome.
The war that began in late February 2026 is not simply another military sequence in an already fragmented Middle East. It constitutes a major strategic rupture, the effects of which will extend far beyond the immediate fate of the Islamic Republic.
The elimination of Ali Khamenei, the direct projection of American and Israeli power onto Iranian territory, and Tehran's regional response mark the end of a cycle. A cycle of indirect, contained confrontation, where each side tested the other's limits without crossing the threshold of open war.
That threshold has now been crossed. But contrary to what some scenarios suggest, this war is not, at this stage, bringing clarity. On the contrary, it is opening up a zone of strategic uncertainty.
The Iranian regime appears weakened, challenged, and exposed. Yet, it retains real resilience, based on a dense security apparatus and the ability to mobilize, even temporarily, a national reflex in the face of external aggression.
Its adversaries, for their part, possess an undeniable military advantage. But they are encountering a classic limitation: the absence of a structured political project for the future. Recent history has shown on several occasions, particularly in the Middle East, that a military victory without a political horizon can produce more instability than it resolves.
In this context, the Iranian opposition, bolstered by its visibility and resources, is striving to embody a unified alternative capable of structuring a credible transition.
This is where the real tipping point lies.
For this war is not being fought solely on the military front. It is being fought in the actors' ability to transform a balance of power into a new political order. And on this front, nothing has yet been decided.
The major risk, therefore, is not only that of escalation. It is that of a lasting imbalance. A Middle East where states are weakened, conflicts diffuse, and the balance of power unstable.
In such a configuration, the fall of the Iranian regime—should it occur—would in no way guarantee stabilization. On the contrary, it could usher in a phase of brutal realignment, with consequences that would be difficult to control, both for the region and for international stability.
Ultimately, this war raises a simple yet crucial question: are the actors involved seeking to win a war… or do they even know what kind of order they want to build afterward?
At this stage, the answer remains uncertain. And it is precisely this uncertainty that makes this sequence one of the most dangerous the Middle East has experienced in decades.
Maceo Ouitana is a journalist and contributor to FEMO.
Franck Radjai is Director of Research at the CNRS and an analyst at FEMO.
