Six months of war have left Iran economically battered, its society exhausted, and its politics more conflicted than before. But the country is neither on the verge of collapse, as repeatedly predicted by its adversaries, nor the bastion of unity and stability portrayed by the Islamic Republic itself. The political, economic and social picture inside Iran is much more nuanced. While the state’s central institutions remain resilient, Iran’s vulnerabilities are real, and ordinary citizens are bearing the brunt of the conflict.
From the beginning, the U.S.-Israeli bombing campaign made clear that this was not only a war against the Islamic Republic but also against Iran and its people. On the very first day, a U.S. strike hit an elementary school in Minab, killing at least 156 people, including 120 schoolchildren. Over the ensuing months, airstrikes damaged or destroyed more than 125,000 civilian sites, among them homes, schools, medical facilities, universities, and cultural heritage sites, while killing thousands of civilians. On September 1, 2026, a U.S. missile struck a home where a wedding was taking place in southern Iran, killing at least four people, including a four-year-old child, and injuring 68 others.
Beyond the human toll, the legal and political context of the two wars is central to understanding their effects inside Iran. Neither was authorized by the United Nations Security Council, and legal experts concluded that both the June 2025 and the February 2026 attacks violated the UN Charter’s prohibition on the use of force. Their illegality is not simply an academic question. It has shaped domestic perceptions and deepened a sense of injustice among many Iranians, reinforcing the state’s longstanding narrative of resistance to foreign aggression.
The greatest shock to the political system came from the assassinations of its senior leaders, particularly former Supreme Leader Ayatollah Ali Khamenei on the first day of the war. His removal after 36 years as the ultimate decision-maker over Iranian affairs disrupted a political system built around his authority and profoundly altered the balance of power inside the country.
The assassination exposed the Islamic Republic’s vulnerability but did not produce the institutional breakdown the United States and Israel may have expected. Iran activated its succession process, quickly appointed a new leader, and kept the state’s main institutions operating. As the author of this piece wrote in an analysis of the politics of Ayatollah Ali Khamenei’s funeral, the proceedings were designed to project continuity: Iran had lost its highest authority in a foreign attack, but the political system remained intact.
Institutional continuity, however, did not mean political continuity. Ayatollah Ali Khamenei’s son and successor, Ayatollah Mojtaba Khamenei, entered office without his father’s experience, authority, or established legitimacy. His selection tipped the ideological balance further toward conservative forces, particularly the Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps, while weakening reformists and moderates who had favored a less polarizing transition. His continued absence from public view has also made it difficult for him to establish an identity and authority independent of the institutions that supported his rise.
The Islamic Republic has therefore demonstrated both vulnerability and resilience. It absorbed the assassination of its most powerful leader, as well as other senior officials and experienced figures who could mediate among competing centers of power. The political system survived its greatest threat in decades, but it also emerged more securitized and more dependent on the institutions responsible for prosecuting the war.
A political debate, not necessarily a political rupture
Political differences inside Iran are genuine, but they do not necessarily indicate a divided state. Senior officials and institutions may disagree over policy, but once the state’s decision-making bodies reach a decision, the leadership generally closes ranks behind its implementation. The main disagreement is not between those who want war and those who want peace—nearly every major faction says it wants the conflict to end. The debate is over the terms for ending it and whether diplomacy or further military pressure will produce a more durable result.
Senior officials, including President Masoud Pezeshkian, Parliament Speaker Mohammad Bagher Ghalibaf, and Foreign Minister Abbas Araghchi, along with the more pragmatic factions, favor a mutual return to the ceasefire and memorandum of understanding (MoU) signed with the Trump administration on June 17, which broke down shortly afterward. Their position is not one of unilateral restraint but of reciprocity: responding in kind to escalation or diplomacy, while favoring the latter. Pezeshkian has said Iran will immediately reciprocate if Washington returns to its commitments under the agreement.
From Tehran’s perspective, the MoU began unraveling when Washington failed to release promised frozen assets, allowed Israel to continue its bombardment of Lebanon, and attempted to create a separate shipping lane through the Strait of Hormuz without Iranian coordination. Iran viewed these actions as an effort to rewrite in practice what the United States had accepted on paper.
The more hardline factions argue that diplomacy without deterrence will invite further attacks. From their perspective, every American strike must receive a response because Washington would interpret restraint as weakness. The dispute is therefore over strategy, timing, and the acceptable terms of de-escalation, not necessarily over the survival or basic direction of the political system.
Khamenei’s assassination strengthened the hardline argument that Washington seeks not only policy concessions but political capitulation and leadership change. Trump’s demands for surrender and his attempt to influence Iran’s succession made compromise harder for those advocating diplomacy. When Pezeshkian attempted to ease tensions with neighboring countries, he faced an immediate backlash from military commanders, clerics, and members of parliament. The episode revealed a real struggle over wartime policy, but not necessarily a fracture within the state.
Economic deterioration without imminent collapse
Iran’s economic distress is undeniable. Inflation, currency depreciation, declining trade, blocked oil exports, shortages and infrastructure damage are imposing severe costs. The rial has reached historic lows, while food, housing, medicine and other basic needs are becoming increasingly unaffordable.
The Iranian government can use currency intervention, subsidies, rationing, regional trade and informal financial channels to prevent an immediate breakdown, even if these measures cannot restore normal economic life. Iran has decades of experience adapting to sanctions and transferring the costs of isolation onto society. Some economists argue that Tehran still has sufficient resources to withstand the current pressure without experiencing Venezuelan-style hyperinflation or the kind of currency collapse seen in Lebanon. Such a model can preserve the state while impoverishing the population.
This distinction is crucial. It means that Washington can damage Iran’s economy and deepen public hardship, but economic suffering does not necessarily produce political surrender. Years of maximum pressure, followed by two wars, have failed to force Tehran to capitulate. The United States and Israel have demonstrated that they can inflict enormous damage but cannot translate military superiority into political victory.
Public discontent and wartime restrictions
Public anger in Iran is real, but it is complicated. Many Iranians can be critical of the Islamic Republic and oppose its domestic policies, yet still reject a foreign war waged against their homeland. Anger toward the state can coexist with nationalism and outrage over U.S. and Israeli aggression. Expressions of national solidarity should therefore not automatically be read as full support for the political system, nor should public discontent be treated as proof that mass revolt is imminent.
Repression, surveillance, disrupted communications, weak organization and fear of greater instability limit collective action against the state in wartime. The proposed criminalization of unauthorized contact with foreign media shows how the state is using current conditions to further restrict political and civic space. Iran’s security institutions remain strong enough to contain unrest even when the government cannot address its underlying causes.
Iran has already sustained the conflict longer than Washington expected, but endurance is not the same as stability or victory. The state can retain control while becoming poorer, more repressive, and more dependent on its security apparatus. Washington’s mistake is to assume that worsening living conditions will inevitably force surrender. Tehran’s mistake would be to assume that Iranian society can absorb unlimited pressure.
The clearest picture of what is happening inside Iran is therefore neither imminent collapse nor uncomplicated resilience. Iran remains capable of surviving a prolonged war, but it is doing so at immense cost to ordinary citizens. Without a diplomatic settlement, state resilience and public suffering will continue to coexist, and both will reshape Iran long after the fighting ends.
The opinions expressed in this article are those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the Middle East Council on Global Affairs.
