“Iran is the heart — the world, but a frame.” When Persian poet Nizami Ganjavi wrote these words in the 12th century, he meant them as an expression of admiration for his country and its cultural heritage, which acted as the axis around which the Earth itself revolved. Over eight centuries later, though, Ganjavi’s musings ring true for very different reasons, ones laid bare by Israel’s unprecedented assault on the Islamic Republic.
Over dozens of strikes against Iranian military infrastructure and nuclear facilities, Israel has truly done the unthinkable, decapitating swathes of Iran’s military and strategic leadership, and even establishing superiority in the smog-laden skies above Tehran. The regime, clearly, has been shaken to its core. But if Israel may ultimately overreach, with the ferocity of its campaign already pushing secular Iranians towards the patriotic fold, it’s also clear that Tehran’s humbling will remake the Middle East — which it has tried to mould in its own image for the better part of four decades.
Since the Eighties, Iran’s greatest assets have been oil exports, the Revolutionary Guards — and its network of proxies across the Middle East, threatening Israel and the Sunni Gulf states, all while creating a buffer between Tehran and its enemies. But the positions of these proxies carried with them the seeds of their own demise. Having entrenched themselves in the political landscapes of the Arab world, their allegiance to Iran often put them in conflict with the national priorities of the societies they’d cannibalised. That, in turn, rendered their positions deeply fragile.
One good example is Hezbollah, which, despite being inextricably linked to Iran’s mullahs, must increasingly cope with the vagaries of Lebanon’s complex sectarian politics. After dragging the country into war with Israel last year, the Shi’a militants duly earned the ire of Lebanese Sunnis and Christians alike. Since January, meanwhile, Lebanon has named a new president and prime minister, both of whom are seen as Hezbollah opponents. Worse still, in the wake of Israel’s assault, the Lebanese state has all but dismantled Hezbollah in southern Lebanon — reportedly using Israeli intelligence passed on via the US.
There are broader strategic problems for Iran too. Its foreign proxies can be compared to nuclear weapons: far more useful as theoretical deterrents, waiting ominously in the wings, than as actual tools of war. Indeed, after Israel called Iran’s bluff in September last year, unleashing the full weight of the IDF on Lebanon, Hezbollah duly crumbled — as did Iran’s ability to frighten its foes. In neighbouring Syria, and without Hezbollah to act as an enforcer, the Assad regime collapsed to the rebels too. In hindsight, then, it should have seemed inevitable that the road from October 7 should have ended in Tehran. Hamas didn’t inform Iran of its plans in advance, but as a crucial pillar of its proxy network, Netanyahu and his ministers would always use the massacre to strike at the regime.
What happens next in Iran itself is hard to guess: perhaps an internal power struggle, maybe a revived liberal opposition. What’s clear, anyway, is that just as fracturing Tehran’s proxy network led to Israel’s attack last week, the degradation of its military capabilities and top brass has changed everything for the country’s regional allies.
Once again, consider the example of Lebanon. For years, Hezbollah boasted that it would shortly destroy the “Zionist entity”. These days, though, the group is rather more reticent. Instead of coming to its patron’s aid during Israel’s latest assault, it was clearly more concerned with its own survival. In Iraq, meanwhile, the Kata’ib Hezbollah has done nothing other than call Israel’s strikes “deeply regrettable.” So far only the Houthis, Iran’s most committed attack dogs, have directly engaged Israel. But as they have in the past, they too may soon choose to cut their losses and reckon with the new political reality.
And no wonder. Israel’s war with Iran will reduce what was once a river of weapons and money to a trickle — having once supplied a total of around $300 million overall to the Houthis, and up to $1 billion per year to Hezbollah, Iran’s capacity for generosity has been decimated, especially after the mounting losses at home.
All this will expose Iran’s former proxies to challengers in their respective national arenas. What’s happening in Lebanon is now repeating in Gaza, with the battered remnants of Hamas threatened by popular protests and a parade of Israeli-backed thugs. At the same time, the decline of Iran will force the country’s erstwhile proxies to redefine their mission, facilitating a wholesale reorientation in political Shi’ism across the region.
“Iran’s former proxies are exposed to challengers.”
As Shi’a groups across the region struggle to find a new political lodestar over the years ahead, the influence of these figures will only grow. No less important, Shi’a militant groups from Lebanon to Iraq appear to be doing something that few such groups have done before — embracing a more Arabised vision of Shi’a political activity, one bound by their respective national borders. Though the desire to wage a collective regional battle remains, groups like Hezbollah and Kata’ib Hezbollah seem to have realised that, having become tied to state institutions all around them, they too aren’t immune to nationalist impulses.
What is clear, anyway, is that the Middle East of tomorrow will be one where Iran will be much less influential. And, of course, none of this is happening in a vacuum. For if the mullahs cower in the face of Netanyahu’s bombs, Sunni powers like Saudi Arabia, and the UAE will be more than happy to take up the slack. Turkey, too, is in a strong position: with a new set of proxies in Syria, its influence in Damascus gives it a privileged seat at the geopolitical table. What that means in practice is yet more challenges for the former “Axis of Resistance”: with the power of Saudi Arabia and the Gulf States on the rise in Lebanon, formerly marginal Sunni politicians are making a comeback. Even more dramatically, the new Syrian government is both hunting the remnants of Assad’s loyalist base, and taking a realpolitik approach towards even Israel.
Of course, the Shi’a sphere will hardly be irrelevant here, playing the new kingmakers against each other. The impact of a more nationalised, local vision of political Shi’ism could alter the calculus of Sunni powers, making regional dynamics much more multipolar. But disunited and disenchanted, Arab Shi’a will have little in the way of a true political home, regardless of what happens in the Islamic Republic itself. To be sure, the urge to find a new Khomeini for the 21st century will be strong. But having learned the price of relying on a single, corrupt power structure for political backing, the urge for genuine political emancipation may prove equally powerful.
What form this will take remains to be seen — from pro-democracy protests to Arab nationalism, the options for the next generation of Shi’a are varied, especially given the growing divide between the Shi’a elite, previously enriched by Iran, and the destitute Arab masses. Having once been at the top of the social hierarchy across the region, certainly, their arrogance has won them few allies among local populations. As one Lebanese Shi’a recently told a Palestinian: “We are going to take Jerusalem for you. You are not up for it.”
But despite the idealism of many young people across the Middle East, this remains a region where politics is seen as a zero-sum game. That means losses for Iran won’t be seen not opportunities for peace, but rather as an existential threat for Shi’a everywhere. Emergent leaders who do seek the mantle of Shi’ism won’t do so to emancipate Shi’a of all backgrounds from political exploitation, but to “save” them from domination by Sunnis, Israelis, and Americans, thus keeping the cycle of sectarian competition alive and kicking. Even al-Sistani, hardly a friend of Iran, backs a political vision centered on protecting Shi’a identity first and foremost — something that, given the broad reverence he commands throughout the Shi’a world, is a clear bellwether for the community’s future direction.
Nor will Iran itself will vanish from the scene. As the largest Shi’a-majority country in the world, it’ll remain the faith’s epicentre with or without the ayatollahs. Even before 1979, Iran had a clear geopolitical identity. And despite the fantasies of Israeli leaders, a post-Islamist Persia will hardly be an obedient satrapy — nor will it be a wholly secular society where Shi’ism is a spent social force. To quote Ferdowsi, a medieval forebear of Nizami Ganjavi: “Do you not know that Iran is my dwelling place? The world from head to foot is under my command.”
