Iran’s weakened financial situation may reduce its ability to bankroll Palestinian proxies, but alternative funding—especially from Qatar—remains available.

The guns have fallen silent—for now. After a dramatic round of hostilities between Israel and Iran, reports of a ceasefire mediated by the United States and Qatar have emerged. But in the foggy aftermath of conflict, the strategic question looms large: How can Israel translate its significant military achievements into sustainable diplomatic leverage?

The answer lies not only in the battlefield success but also in the precision with which Israel manages post-war strategy, regional alliances, and international diplomacy.

The Military Scorecard: A Strategic Reset

According to regional analysts and Israeli defense sources, the recent strikes dealt a major blow to Iran’s nuclear and missile capabilities. Multiple high-value assets—including command centers, ballistic missile launchers, and uranium enrichment infrastructure—were reportedly neutralized.

Former Israeli intelligence officials suggest the operation may have set back Iran’s nuclear program by several years. Enriched uranium in gaseous form, typically stored in Fordow and Natanz, is now inaccessible due to destroyed conversion facilities. While fears of a hidden uranium stockpile persist, Israeli intelligence believes much of it is unusable without specialized infrastructure—which was intentionally targeted.

What’s more, Iran’s ability to project missile power has been severely reduced. Though some projectiles reached Israeli cities like Be’er Sheva, the quantity and impact were far lower than anticipated, signaling Iran’s declining capacity for sustained offensive operations.

Exposing Iran’s Strategic Vulnerabilities

Beyond hardware damage, the real victory lies in exposing the fragility of the Iranian regime’s strategic posture. Tehran often masquerades as a regional powerhouse, but beneath the bravado lies a state plagued by economic decay, internal dissent, and corruption. Its leadership offers the Iranian public a mythologized narrative that stands in sharp contrast to reality.

Now, Tehran faces a post-war triage scenario: Should it rebuild the Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps’ infrastructure? Its ballistic missile industry? The partially collapsed nuclear program? Or should it invest in civilian needs to avoid future uprisings like those seen in 2009 and 2022?

As Sun Tzu would advise, the art of strategy is forcing your enemy into a set of bad choices. Israel has done precisely that.

Myth of the Nuclear Fatwa: Time to Debunk

A critical pillar of pro-Iran apologetics—especially in European and American academic circles—has been the claim that Supreme Leader Ayatollah Khamenei issued a fatwa against nuclear weapons. This argument, often echoed by think tanks like the Forum for Regional Thinking in Tel Aviv, is not supported by hard evidence. No original document of such a fatwa exists, and even Iranian insiders dispute its authenticity.

In fact, recent IAEA reports confirm uranium enrichment levels reaching 60%—a technical leap just short of weapons-grade. Combined with Iran’s continued work on a weaponization group, the claim of religious restraint rings hollow. Israeli operations appear to have effectively sabotaged that intent.

Achieved Objectives and What Lies Ahead

Israel’s war cabinet set out with three clear objectives:

1. Immediate – Cripple Iran’s nuclear and missile programs.
2. Mid-Term – Dismantle the “Axis of Resistance” by weakening Hezbollah, Hamas, and Quds Force operatives.
3. Long-Term – Apply sustained pressure that could eventually collapse or delegitimize the regime in Tehran.

The first two objectives have been largely achieved. Hezbollah has been pushed back from the northern border, and key Quds Force generals responsible for coordinating regional militias have been eliminated. Hamas is weakened, and its Qatari funding pipeline is under greater scrutiny.

The long-term goal of regime change is elusive and cannot be engineered directly. But Israel can weaken Iran’s capacity to export revolution and wait for internal dynamics to take their course.

The Diplomatic Front: Sanctions Snapback and Global Leverage

Contrary to commentary suggesting Israel has no leverage after the war, multiple options remain on the table. First among them is the “snapback mechanism” of UN sanctions, embedded in the JCPOA. With the help of the United States, Israel must push to prevent any rollback of sanctions unless Iran fully complies with strict conditions:

• Surrender of all remaining enriched uranium
• Full dismantling of nuclear military infrastructure
• Permanent ban on long-range missile development

The Biden administration—or potentially a returning Trump administration—can use this leverage to constrain Tehran further.

Additionally, Israel can use its battlefield success to expand the global market for its defense industry. European countries, anxious after Ukraine and Iran’s regional assertiveness, are seeking advanced missile defense and cyber capabilities. Israeli firms like Rafael, Elbit Systems, and IAI are already fielding requests.

Maintaining Strategic Depth and Secret Channels

Israel’s shadow war against Iran must continue unabated. Cyber operations, intelligence infiltration, and economic sabotage have been crucial to weakening Iran’s ability to plan or execute high-impact regional operations.

Just as importantly, Israel must preserve a viable aerial corridor for future strikes—especially over Syrian airspace. While Damascus remains aligned with Iran and Russia, quiet understandings can still be pursued with the Assad regime to ensure tactical flexibility. As always, “agreements in the Middle East are enforced by firepower, not paperwork.”

The Gaza Challenge: A Persistent Headache

While Tehran has been pushed back, the problem of Hamas and Gaza remains. Iran’s weakened financial situation may reduce its ability to bankroll Palestinian proxies, but alternative funding—especially from Qatar—remains available.

Israel must ensure that any reconstruction aid is tightly monitored or halted entirely unless tied to strict preconditions:

• Return of Israeli hostages
• Complete disarmament
• Replacement of Hamas with a neutral governing entity
• Full Israeli operational freedom inside Gaza, akin to that in the West Bank

As part of this containment, Israel should expedite the GHF Project—a mechanism to manage Gaza’s humanitarian needs while undermining Hamas control.

From Tactical Success to Strategic Gains

The Iran-Israel ceasefire may signal the end of open hostilities, but not of the conflict. For Israel, the real victory will come not from what it destroyed, but from what it builds: a stronger diplomatic posture, deeper international partnerships, and a regional order where Iran’s threats are no longer credible.

Much like its Iron Dome, Israel’s strategy must remain layered—military deterrence, diplomatic foresight, and economic leverage. The war may have paused, but the campaign for regional stability continues.

Pakistan’s pattern of dependence—on U.S. security guarantees, Chinese investment, Iranian goodwill—makes it a client state, not a sovereign actor on the world stage.

Amid the fiery conflict between Israel and Iran, Pakistan’s military finds itself walking a geopolitical tightrope: publicly aligning with Iran, even hinting at nuclear retaliation against Israel, while simultaneously clinging to U.S. military favor in its campaign against Iranian nuclear assets.

This schizophrenic stance underscores a decades‑long pattern: Pakistan’s “deep state” and its military‑intel establishment have repeatedly sold the nation’s sovereignty to whichever patron offers the greatest leverage. The result? An arrested development and chronic underachievement.

Last week, Iran’s IRGC commander Mohsen Rezaei claimed on state television that “Pakistan has told us that if Israel uses nuclear missiles, we will also attack it with nuclear weapons”. Pakistan neither publicly confirmed nor denied the claim. Yet within days, its foreign ministry condemned U.S. airstrikes on Iran’s nuclear sites—Fordow, Natanz, Isfahan—calling them “gravely concerning” and flagging possible regional escalation.

This denunciation came just after Pakistan endorsed President Trump for the Nobel Peace Prize over his de‑escalation efforts with India. In barely a 48‑hour span, Islamabad praised Trump for stabilizing South Asia and then rebuked his bombs.

Meanwhile, Pakistan’s army chief Field Marshal Asim Munir was in Washington for a lavish White House lunch—where Trump publicly lauded Pakistani restraint after the India‑Pakistan missile flare‑up in May. This whitewashing of Islamabad’s contradictions—welcoming Pakistani nuclear diplomacy while supporting the strikes—reveals much about the transactional nature of this partnership.

Deep State by Design

Pakistan’s military establishment, colloquially “the deep state,” has never seen itself as servant, but rather as master. Since 1947, it has orchestrated coups, mediated foreign policy, and directed economic as well as strategic priorities. Civilian governance remains a veneer. Power accrues through Pakistan’s full‑spectrum nuclear deterrence doctrine—designed less for defense than for bargaining over India, the U.S., and other regional powers.

The economic cost of this grandstanding is steep. Decades of diverting scarce resources into military programs—sometimes backed by Chinese or U.S. aid, sometimes clandestinely through nuclear proliferation networks like A.Q. Khan’s—have starved Pakistan of investment in education, health, infrastructure, and industry. Its economy limps under chronic debt; urban centers are choked; public services are threadbare.

Selling the Nation to the Highest Bidder

This Faustian bargain continues. Pakistan courts the U.S. when it needs military hardware, diplomatic cover, and economic relief. As soon as Washington turns, Islamabad pivots to Iran—or China, or Russia. Recent Indian‑express analysis notes Islamabad’s “delicate balancing act” shaped by anxieties over India and a need for U.S. patronage. But the result is strategic incoherence and international mistrust.

The core of the problem is corruption at the top. The deep state uses its clout to capture resources. Elite groups extract rents from development budgets, shield militant proxies, and arrogate foreign policy. Civil society and democracy exist in name only; real power resides with generals who see the nation as a chessboard. As a result, growth stalls, inequality deepens, and Pakistan’s potential remains unrealized.

The Nuclear Catch‑22

Pakistan’s flirtation with nuclear brinkmanship—hinting at retaliation for Israel, pointing B‑2 bombers at Iran—exposes the inherent contradiction: nukes are for deterrence, not diplomacy. Instead of a mature nuclear strategy aimed at securing peace and economic stability, the military uses nuclear ambiguity for maximum geopolitical returns. That has brought fleeting headlines and foreign funds, but no sustainable development.

Pakistan must ask itself: is it raising its geopolitical profile, or holding itself back through strategic schizophrenia? Its pattern of dependence—on U.S. security guarantees, Chinese investment, Iranian goodwill—makes it a client state, not a sovereign actor on the world stage.

A Way Forward: Decouple the Deep State

For Pakistan to unlock its potential, it must dismantle the deep‑state’s monopoly. Demilitarize foreign policy, entrust civilian leadership with economic and diplomatic agendas. Cut off free rides to jihadi proxies that generate short‑term geopolitical cachet but long‑term global isolation. Redirect resources from nuclear brinkmanship into clean energy, literacy, and healthcare.

Otherwise, Pakistan’s “balancing act” is nothing but a balancing of bids: play the U.S. for aid, Iran for regional rapprochement, China for infrastructure—until the next pivot. But each shift deepens instability and stifles growth. The people, not the generals, suffer.

In the end, only a break from this militarized cycle—an embrace of genuine democracy and domestic investment—can free Pakistan from being the world’s perpetual geopolitical rentier. Anything less is selling its soul, again.

Disclaimer: Views expressed by writers in this section are their own and do not reflect Milli Chronicle’s point-of-view.

While the direct impact of the strikes is still being assessed, the symbolic and strategic consequences are undeniable. For decades, the Islamic Republic has combined nuclear brinkmanship with proxy warfare to project power across the region. But now, both pillars of that strategy appear to be crumbling — with ripple effects that could reverberate far beyond the Gulf.

“Iran’s Islamic regime, which has terrorised the region and its own citizens for decades, is finally facing a reckoning,” said Rajesh Rajagopalan, Professor of International Politics at Jawaharlal Nehru University, New Delhi.

Strategic Infrastructure Crippled

According to U.S. military sources and independent analysts, the United States deployed GBU-57 Massive Ordnance Penetrator (MOP) bombs — known as “bunker busters” — on Iran’s highly fortified Fordow nuclear facility, which is buried deep beneath a mountain.

These strikes, combined with earlier Israeli operations, have severely degraded Iran’s nuclear program. While critics long feared that military action might accelerate Tehran’s pursuit of a nuclear bomb, current assessments suggest the opposite: Iran’s nuclear infrastructure has been set back by years.

“The program is now incapable of delivering a weapon at this point,” said Rajagopalan, countering common fears about retaliation. “What we are seeing is not escalation — but a surgical neutralization of Tehran’s strategic leverage.”

Proxy Network in Decline

Iran’s regional influence has also been significantly eroded. Hezbollah and Hamas, once potent instruments of Iranian strategy, have suffered severe losses. Israeli operations have eliminated key leaders and crippled their capabilities through both overt strikes and covert campaigns. The Houthis, while still active, are a diminished force. Meanwhile, in Syria, President Bashar al-Assad — Tehran’s closest ally — has fled to Moscow amid mounting internal and external pressure.

Iran’s axis of influence — stretching from the Levant to the Gulf — is no longer as formidable as it once appeared.

“Terrorist strategies can only go so far,” Rajagopalan noted. “Over time, opponents adapt. Israel, in particular, has learned how to escalate and deter — often with surgical precision.”

A Fight Iran Picked — and Is Losing

Despite being beset by domestic unrest, a failing economy, and international sanctions, Iran chose to provoke confrontation with both Israel and the United States. Through its regional militias, cyber warfare, and missile attacks, Tehran has created a pattern of provocation, seeking to intimidate through volatility.

But that strategy is faltering.

“Iran has been an expansionist power in the region,” said Rajagopalan, “creating instability from Lebanon to Yemen without any legitimate security need. Neither Israel nor the U.S. posed a threat to Iran. It picked this fight — and now it is paying the price.”

A Moment for Reflection in Tehran

The question now is whether Iran’s leadership will absorb the message and recalibrate its posture.

After the U.S. eliminated Quds Force commander Qassem Soleimani in 2020, Tehran exhibited momentary restraint. But that lesson was short-lived. With its nuclear bluff now called and its proxy tools weakened, Iran stands at a critical juncture.

“Prudence would dictate that Tehran reassess its choices,” said Rajagopalan. “If it doesn’t, the consequences could be even more severe — potentially leading to regime change.”

That possibility, while not openly pursued by Washington, remains on the table should Iran choose further confrontation. However, regime change comes with massive humanitarian and geopolitical risks — not only for Iran but for the broader region.

“The downfall of the Islamic Republic may be welcomed by many,” said one Gulf-based analyst, “but it will not come without a heavy price, especially for ordinary Iranians who have already endured decades of suffering.”

Repercussions Beyond West Asia

The impact of the U.S. strikes will not be confined to Tehran. Domestically, the attack may shake American politics, particularly the coalition that supports former President Donald Trump. Though MAGA-aligned factions have been historically hawkish, divisions have emerged over Israel and America’s entanglements in the Middle East.

“There is already infighting within Trump’s base over support for Israel and military intervention,” Rajagopalan noted. “This strike could splinter that base further.”

On the international stage, the consequences are mixed — and in some cases, beneficial. For Ukraine, the U.S. action is symbolic justice. Iran has supplied drones to Russia, many of which have targeted Ukrainian civilians. While Iran may continue these exports — and Russia has begun manufacturing its own drones — Kyiv will likely welcome any blow to one of Moscow’s key allies.

A Warning to China?

There may be another global player watching U.S. moves with keen interest: China.

Trump’s unpredictability is well-known. He recently stated that not even he knows what he will do in a given situation — a trait that unnerves both allies and adversaries. For Beijing, this raises new questions about its Taiwan calculus.

“China is not Iran. It has real military capacity,” Rajagopalan acknowledged. “But even powerful nations must pause when their assumptions about U.S. deterrence are shaken.”

In this sense, Trump’s actions in the Gulf may serve as an implicit message to China: underestimating U.S. resolve could prove costly.

The Global Danger of Imprudence

The broader takeaway from the Iran conflict is the danger of imprudence — acting rashly without weighing consequences. While American foreign policy is often criticized for overreach, similar scrutiny is rarely applied to authoritarian states like Iran, or even to global giants like China.

“Iran is a textbook case of how over-expansion and ideological adventurism can backfire,” Rajagopalan said. “The regime’s own recklessness may now bring about its undoing.”

He added that if China were to miscalculate and invade Taiwan, it would be another example of how great powers — blinded by ambition — often fall prey to the same traps they accuse the West of setting.

A Cautionary Endgame

With its nuclear ambitions curbed, its proxies crippled, and its economy faltering, Iran is now confronting a strategic inflection point. The regime can either retreat from confrontation or risk escalation that may end in its collapse.

“Further imprudence,” said Rajagopalan, “will lead to Tehran’s end — not just the regime, but the fragile state that holds Iran together.”

And while many would celebrate the fall of the Islamic Republic, the region — and the world — must be prepared for the aftermath.

Experts agree: the closure of the Strait of Hormuz would be a global catastrophe.

As tensions between Iran and Israel reach a fever pitch following Israel’s strikes on Iranian nuclear facilities earlier this month, global attention is zeroing in on one of the world’s most critical chokepoints for energy transit: the Strait of Hormuz.

This narrow, 33-kilometer-wide strait, which lies between Iran and Oman, is more than a geographical feature — it is the lifeline of the global energy market. With nearly 20 percent of the world’s daily oil consumption passing through its waters, even the hint of a blockade or disruption sends shockwaves through financial markets and rattles policymakers from Beijing to Brussels.

Now, as the specter of U.S. military involvement in support of Israel looms larger, Iran’s threats to block the strait are once again dominating headlines. Analysts warn that such a move would ignite an oil shock unlike any seen in recent history.

“The Strait of Hormuz is not just a waterway; it is the artery of global energy,” said Saudi geopolitical analyst Salman Al-Ansari. “Any blockade would trigger a chain reaction the global economy is not prepared for.”

A Strategic Lifeline

According to the U.S. Energy Information Administration (EIA), nearly 20 million barrels of crude oil — around one-fifth of global oil consumption — transits the Strait of Hormuz daily. It also handles about 20 percent of the world’s liquefied natural gas (LNG) exports, mostly from Qatar.

There are virtually no viable alternatives. The strait is the only deep-water passage in the region capable of accommodating the world’s largest oil tankers. Pipelines across the Arabian Peninsula offer limited relief but cannot come close to replacing the volume that moves through Hormuz.

The EIA estimates that 84 percent of the crude oil flowing through the strait heads toward Asia, with China, India, Japan, and South Korea as top consumers. In February 2024, the Center for Security Policy in Washington reported that more than three-quarters of crude passing through the strait is destined for Asian markets.

Volatility on a Knife-Edge

When Iran launched retaliatory strikes on Israel last week, oil markets reacted immediately. Brent crude surged from $69 to $74 per barrel in a single day — and that was without any actual blockade.

“The market’s reaction to mere tension is telling,” said Jassem Ajaka, an economist and professor at the Lebanese University. “The full closure of the strait would send prices soaring above $100 per barrel in a matter of hours.”

Ajaka stressed the ripple effect such a spike would have on inflation: “Oil is a foundational commodity — its price is embedded in 95 percent of goods. Everything from food production to transportation will see costs surge.”

Limited Escape Routes

Saudi Arabia, which exported 5.5 million barrels per day through Hormuz in 2024 — nearly 40 percent of all crude transiting the strait — has some contingency plans in place. The Kingdom’s East-West Pipeline can divert up to 7 million barrels per day to the Red Sea, but current use is already high due to ongoing disruptions in the Bab el-Mandeb Strait from Houthi threats.

The UAE’s Fujairah Pipeline, with a capacity of 1.8 million barrels per day, is also operating near capacity. Iran’s Goreh-Jask Pipeline, meant to ease its own vulnerability, has remained largely dormant since late 2024.

“If the Strait of Hormuz were blocked, only about 2.6 million barrels per day could be rerouted,” noted Al-Ansari. “That leaves a gaping shortfall of more than 17 million barrels — a blow the world cannot absorb overnight.”

Asian Economies at Risk

China, which imports nearly half its crude oil via Hormuz, would be among the hardest hit in the event of a closure. India, Japan, and South Korea would also face severe disruptions, likely triggering the release of emergency reserves.

“China would be the first to feel the sting,” said Ajaka. “If the blockade stretches beyond a few weeks, we could be looking at a global recession.”

Shipping costs would rise exponentially as tankers are forced to reroute around Africa. Supply chains would suffer, and energy-importing nations would scramble to find alternatives.

For smaller nations like Lebanon, the consequences could be catastrophic. “We’d face a total blackout,” said Ajaka, “as our power generation depends entirely on imported fuel oil from Iraq.”

Not Just an Economic Gamble

Iran has long viewed the Strait of Hormuz as a pressure point — a strategic card it holds to deter Western intervention. But experts warn that closing the strait would not come without consequences for Tehran.

“Iran’s own economy is heavily reliant on oil exports through the same strait it threatens to close,” said Abdulaziz Sager, Chairman of the Gulf Research Center, in a recent op-ed. “Shutting it down would inflict self-harm — unless the regime feels cornered.”

Indeed, a growing number of Iranian officials are openly discussing the possibility. On June 20, Behnam Saeedi, a member of Iran’s National Security Committee, told local media that closure remains an “option on the table” should the U.S. become involved.

Another lawmaker, Ali Yazdikhah, warned that Iran’s tolerance for shipping freedom depends on the West’s posture. “If the U.S. enters the war operationally, Iran has the legitimate right to disrupt energy transit,” he said.

However, Ajaka cautioned that any such move would be seen as a last resort. “Iran would only close Hormuz if the survival of the regime is at stake — the economic fallout would be too severe otherwise.”

Western Response and Global Stakes

The U.S. and its allies have long maintained a naval presence in the Gulf to safeguard shipping routes. In 2019, attacks on Saudi oil tankers and the Abqaiq facility — which briefly took out 5 percent of global supply — triggered a multinational response.

On June 17, U.S. intelligence officials revealed that Iran has positioned ballistic missiles and military assets aimed at American bases in the Middle East — a clear signal of escalation readiness. Additional reports suggested that Iran may consider mining the Strait of Hormuz, a tactic designed to trap U.S. naval forces in the Gulf.

In the event of a closure, emergency strategic reserves would likely be released. However, Ajaka pointed out that this solution offers only temporary relief.

“Non-OPEC nations are already producing at capacity. Only OPEC members like Saudi Arabia have the ability to increase output — and even that depends on geopolitical calculations,” he said.

Should the crisis deepen, Ajaka predicts Washington may ease sanctions on countries like Venezuela to boost supply. “It’s not just about oil anymore — it’s about stabilizing a world economy on the brink.”

The Strait Must Remain Open

Experts agree: the closure of the Strait of Hormuz would be a global catastrophe.

“It would prompt immediate military intervention by the U.S. and the U.K.,” said Ajaka. “The stakes are simply too high.”

Al-Ansari underscored that the crisis is more than a regional flashpoint. “What’s at risk is not just oil — it’s the fragile equilibrium that keeps economies functioning and societies stable.”

With tensions mounting, the world now watches anxiously. The Strait of Hormuz, long seen as a barometer of Gulf stability, is once again the frontline of global geopolitics.

If diplomacy fails and the conflict escalates further, this critical chokepoint may turn from a transit hub to a trigger — one capable of reshaping the global order.

It is the regime in Tehran that refuses to join any table where Israel is present. At its core, this is a grand strategy rooted—as is often the case—in identity politics.

In Western media, it’s common to describe Israel and Iran (more precisely, the current regime in Tehran) as each other’s “main enemy” or “arch-enemy.” The term echoes Cold War-era Soviet rhetoric and seems to reflect a reality of deep-rooted geopolitical rivalry. But the hostility between Israel and Iran is neither ancient nor inevitable. As regional powers, some degree of competition between them is natural—especially in an era of American retreat—but that alone doesn’t explain why the destruction of Israel has become a clear and central objective of Iran’s grand strategy since the Islamic Revolution.

This wasn’t the case under the previous regime. As many Israelis know—and sometimes remind others, though the topic has become sensitive due to long-standing legal disputes over unresolved financial issues—there’s an almost monumental “memorial” in Israel to the cooperation and once-strong friendship between the two countries. It’s about 200 kilometers long and occasionally leaks: the Eilat-Ashkelon oil pipeline was originally built to transport Iranian oil to the Mediterranean Sea, and from there to European ports. Until the Islamic Revolution and Khomeini’s rise to power, Iran was a strategic partner of Israel and a member of the “periphery alliance” that Ben-Gurion forged in the late 1950s in response to the Nasserist threat, alongside Kemalist Turkey and imperial Ethiopia (both of which have also undergone major changes since then). Israelis were involved in various projects in Iran, from security to agriculture.

So what lies at the root of this intense hostility toward Israel’s very existence, which has become—literally—one of the regime’s core ideological principles, both for Khomeini and his successor as Supreme Leader (Rahbar—“Guide,” a title whose meaning becomes especially clear if translated into German…) Ali Khamenei? Anger over the role Israel and the U.S. played in supporting the hated Shah regime is certainly part of the initial explanation. But past grievances alone don’t account for the depth and persistence of this enmity, which just recently found renewed expression in bold statements about the commitment to destroy Israel (“even if we are cut to pieces,” in the words of a senior Revolutionary Guards commander). Far more powerful forces, rooted in the very identity of the Iranian revolutionary regime, are at play here.

The Iranian revolutionary regime could have, if it had wanted to, used the arms supply from Israel—part of the problematic Iran-Contra deal in the Reagan era—as a springboard to open a new chapter. It chose not to. On the contrary, the hostility only deepened and intensified over time. It even took on the grotesque form of mocking the Holocaust—through cartoon contests that continued even after the Ahmadinejad era—and was succinctly expressed in a venomous tweet by Khamenei in November 2014 (still available online), detailing nine points explaining why and how Israel should be eliminated.

Traditional geopolitics naturally breeds competition and sometimes conflict between regional powers. But in this case, it fails to justify such an extreme stance—unparalleled in today’s international arena—where one UN member state denies the very right of another to exist. It also doesn’t justify Iran’s massive investment in arming Hezbollah to seriously threaten Israel’s civilian rear; in arming and training Palestinian terrorist groups through its cooperation with Hamas and its proxy ties with Palestinian Islamic Jihad; or in turning Assad’s Syria into a land bridge to the Mediterranean and an additional launchpad for attacks on Israel.

It’s true that Iran’s leadership today, through this “ring of fire,” also has a deterrent motive: to discourage Israel from launching a military strike on its nuclear weapons program. But Israel, for its part, would not be considering such a strike had Iran not openly marked it for destruction and forced Israel to treat the Iranian regime as a threat to its very survival. So what, then, fuels the constant chant of “Death to Israel” — “Marg bar Israel”?

There’s no territorial dispute between Israel and Iran, nor economic rivalry—aside from the unresolved question of compensation for the oil pipeline, currently under arbitration in a Swiss court. Israel does not threaten Iran’s legitimate demand to be part of the regional power balance and to sit at the diplomatic table. It is the regime in Tehran that refuses to join any table where Israel is present. At its core, this is a grand strategy rooted—as is often the case—in identity politics. In this instance, the identity of the current Iranian regime as a political embodiment of a sweeping, dramatic, modern, and revolutionary interpretation of Shiite Islamic doctrine.

It’s worth recalling: the fundamental split between Sunnis (literally “people of the tradition”) and Shiites (“the faction”) stems from a disagreement about the political history of the Muslim community—who should have succeeded the Prophet Muhammad as spiritual leader, political head, and military commander. The Shiites remained loyal to Ali, the Prophet’s son-in-law, and his direct descendants. The deaths of the Prophet’s grandsons, Hasan and Husayn (Ali’s sons), in their defeat against the Sunni Umayyad dynasty’s army at the Battle of Karbala (680 CE), became in Shiite theology a formative catastrophe—a triumph of injustice and the symbol of a history that went terribly wrong.

In the end times, this wrong is to be righted with the return of the “Hidden Imam.” Iranian Shiism belongs to the Twelver branch, which recognizes ten generations of Ali’s descendants until the disappearance of the last one—Muhammad, son of Hasan al-Askari—in 874 CE. Since then, Twelver Shiites await his return. When he reappears as the Mahdi—a figure somewhat comparable to the Jewish Messiah—the world will be redeemed. But according to the interpretation that Khomeini introduced in the last quarter of the 20th century, the prolonged mourning for that loss and the patient wait for redemption were replaced by a call to arms: to rally believers to active struggle, and to fix the world by force.

What Khomeini effectively did—and he was likely influenced during his exile in Paris by thinkers like Frantz Fanon and others who framed anti-colonial, anti-Western Marxist struggles in the Third World as redemption for “the wretched of the earth”—was to translate the ancient anguish and frustration of Shiism into a modern revolutionary agenda. The injustice of the 7th century thus became, in its Khomeinist reincarnation, a call to overturn the existing local, regional, and global political order.

It so happened that the Islamic Revolution’s rise to power in Iran occurred the same year that a cornerstone of secular Arab nationalism collapsed: the peace agreement signed by Egypt’s President Sadat with Israel in March 1979 on the White House lawn—just weeks after Khomeini’s return to Iran in triumph. This coincidence created another twist in Iran’s stance toward Israel, which has grown increasingly rigid and defiant over four decades. The core message: first Egypt, and later (in the 1990s) other weak and “treacherous” Sunni regimes, surrendered to Israel and laid down their arms—or, as Saddam did in 1981, turned them against Iran. Not coincidentally, Iran’s regime named a major Tehran street after Khaled al-Islambouli, Sadat’s assassin.

Now, it is supposedly the duty of “true Islam”—the Shiite version of revolutionary Islamism—to prove its worth and moral superiority by being the only one to persist in striving for Israel’s destruction. For this goal, the Iranians were willing to overcome, in the name of unity against a common enemy, the deep gulf between Shiism and radical Sunni groups like Hamas and Palestinian Islamic Jihad. Still, the Sunni-Shiite divide re-emerged in Iraq after the U.S. invasion in spring 2003. Iran sees ISIS as an existential enemy of Shiism and contributed to its defeat in Iraq and Syria, yet this shared interest with the U.S. didn’t shift Tehran’s fundamental positions.

In any case, even as it is entangled in multiple fronts, the ayatollahs’ regime views the struggle to destroy Israel as a central part of its historic mission. To its mind, this is definitive proof that the Shiite revolution—according to its interpretation—is the true fulfillment of Islamic commandment. Meanwhile, the “wretched” Sunni regimes have surrendered, accepted Israel’s existence, and even normalized ties. It’s important to note that Iran has very complex relations with the UAE: a territorial dispute—it controls three islands belonging to the Emirates—combined with ideological tensions, yet also diplomatic dialogue and extensive trade and financial relations.

Iran’s position toward Israel has therefore become, in the eyes of its leadership, a source of regime legitimacy—both across the Sunni Muslim world and, even more crucially, at home. After all, the revolution has failed in practice when it comes to the wellbeing of the Iranian people. A country that was three times richer than Turkey in 1979 is now four times poorer. Corruption, drugs, and prostitution have infected the social fabric. Brutal repression of dissent has become routine. Precisely because of this, the regime stakes its credibility on waving the anti-Zionist flag with fervor. It’s not at all clear that this stance enjoys broad public support, especially given public resentment over massive expenditures in Syria and Lebanon. But it does tighten the regime’s grip on its core political base—the religious establishment.

Moreover, by its very existence, Israel—as a modern nation-state with Western features, not merely a “protected community” like Iranian Jews—embodies a central pillar of the post-1945 global order. In its ideological horizon, the Shiite totalitarian revolution seeks to upend this order entirely. It defines it in terms of “hegemony” and “global arrogance” (a code name for the U.S.) and links the struggle against it to the fight against “the Great Satan” in Washington and “the Little Satan” in Jerusalem. At one point, Ahmadinejad even tried to offer his German hosts condolences for losing WWII—suggesting that, in his view, the wrong side won. In this context, the intent to destroy Israel is indeed part of a comprehensive, strategic, ideological, and historical worldview aimed at fixing what went wrong in 661 (Ali’s assassination), 680 (his sons’ deaths at Karbala), and 1945 and 1948.

Despite occasional shows of tolerance toward Iran’s relatively large remaining Jewish community, this worldview also contains unmistakable notes of classic anti-Semitism, which have seeped into Iranian discourse under the influence of Western totalitarian models.

The implication for Israel, its friends, allies, and new regional partners should be clear. Unlike “ordinary” conflicts over clashing interests, these meta-historical motivations are powerful. It’s hard to change or deter them through diplomacy—unless that diplomacy is backed by strong, effective military deterrence.

Translated in English from Jerusalem Institute of Strategic Studies.