Editorial by globalnan.com
As dawn rose over the horizon on Friday, June 13, the world awoke to a dramatic escalation in the long-simmering confrontation between Israel and Iran.
Under the cloak of darkness, Israeli fighter jets penetrated deep into Iranian airspace, striking not only nuclear enrichment facilities and missile production centres, but also targeting key figures within Iran’s military command and scientific elite. The boldness of these strikes, their precision, and the wide range of targets suggest that this operation was never merely about delaying Tehran’s nuclear capabilities. Rather, it signals a more ambitious—and far riskier—strategic objective: the destabilisation, and perhaps even the overthrow, of the Islamic Republic itself.
Israel has long viewed a nuclear-armed Iran as an existential threat. This position is grounded in decades of mutual hostility, regional proxy wars, and Iran’s rhetorical commitment to Israel’s destruction. But this latest military operation appears to mark a departure from Israel’s traditional deterrence-based posture. By aiming at individuals at the heart of Iran’s national security establishment—those who have ensured regime continuity for decades—Israel seems to be seeking more than a tactical delay. It is signalling a desire to reshape the strategic landscape altogether.
Michael Singh of the Washington Institute for Near East Policy summed up the shift with clarity: “One assumes that one of the reasons that Israel is doing that is that they’re hoping to see regime change.” This assessment is reinforced by Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu’s unprecedented public appeal to the Iranian people in a televised address, declaring that “the day of your liberation is near”. This rhetorical shift—from strategic containment to moral solidarity with Iranian dissidents—suggests a redefinition of Israel’s endgame.
Such a pivot, however, is fraught with peril. The historical record on regime change driven by foreign military force is, at best, chequered. From Iraq to Libya, externally induced transitions have more often unleashed chaos, civil conflict, and power vacuums rather than stable democratic outcomes. Iran poses an even more formidable challenge: a state with robust institutions, an entrenched theocratic ideology, and a powerful security architecture led by the Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps (IRGC), which has proven its resilience time and again.
Although discontent within Iran has undoubtedly grown in recent years, fuelled by economic mismanagement, repression, and international isolation, the assumption that targeted airstrikes could serve as a catalyst for domestic revolt may be overly optimistic. Nationalism remains a potent force, and an external attack—particularly one by Israel—could reinforce the regime’s legitimacy among segments of the population who otherwise harbour grievances.
Rather than weakening the regime’s foundations, the Israeli strikes may end up validating its core narrative: that the Islamic Republic is under siege by foreign enemies, justifying authoritarian consolidation. In this light, what may have been envisioned as a trigger for change could paradoxically reinforce the very system it seeks to dismantle.
Israeli officials themselves acknowledge the limitations of what can be accomplished through force. National Security Adviser Tzachi Hanegbi admitted candidly: “There’s no way to destroy a nuclear programme by military means.” The most vital elements of Iran’s nuclear infrastructure—buried underground, scattered across vast territory—cannot be eliminated in a single campaign.
Sima Shine, a former Mossad intelligence officer, now with the Institute for National Security Studies, offered a sober assessment: “Israel probably cannot take out completely the nuclear project on its own without the American participation.” Yet the Biden administration has shown little appetite for joining any regime-change crusade, preferring a policy of cautious deterrence and conditional diplomacy.
This stark reality raises a critical question: What does Israel hope to achieve in the absence of international support and in the face of military limitations? Tactical gains—temporary disruption of uranium enrichment, elimination of high-value personnel—are not substitutes for a sustainable non-proliferation strategy. More importantly, they may incur disproportionate costs: escalating retaliation from Iranian proxies, a regional war, or the disintegration of fragile regional alliances.
Indeed, Iran’s regional network—comprising Hezbollah in Lebanon, Shia militias in Syria and Iraq, and the Houthis in Yemen—remains operational and potent. These actors are unlikely to remain passive, and a coordinated response could drag Israel into a multi-front conflict. Already, Tehran’s allies have condemned the strikes and signalled intent to respond, potentially inflaming an already volatile region.
Netanyahu’s comparison of the Iranian situation to the downfall of the Assad regime in Syria or the political paralysis in Lebanon is misleading. Iran’s system of governance—however authoritarian—is internally coherent and deeply institutionalised. Its security elite, economic base, and ideological infrastructure remain largely intact. Unlike Syria, Iran has not been devastated by civil war. And unlike Lebanon, it is not a weak state wracked by sectarian gridlock. The Islamic Republic may be brittle, but it is not hollow.
Jonathan Panikoff of the Atlantic Council has rightly cautioned that any transition of power in Iran would be fraught with risk. A sudden collapse of the regime could result in the fragmentation of state authority, potential proliferation of nuclear materials, and the rise of extremist factions. The costs—humanitarian, strategic, and geopolitical—would not be limited to Israel alone. The entire international community could be confronted with a cascading crisis.
The United States, for its part, has maintained a studied ambiguity. While it has likely provided intelligence and logistical support to Israel, Washington has not publicly endorsed the operation’s strategic aims. This reflects both political restraint and the legacy of American overreach in the Middle East. Having extricated itself from prolonged engagements in Iraq and Afghanistan, the Biden administration is understandably wary of stumbling into another entanglement.
Yet this ambiguity may become increasingly difficult to maintain. Should Iran retaliate more forcefully, American assets in the region—and potentially American forces—could be drawn into a broader war. Moreover, the perception that the U.S. is quietly complicit in Israel’s regime-change calculus could complicate its diplomatic relationships with European allies, Gulf states, and even parts of the Global South.
Israel’s strike against Iran marks a dangerous turning point in regional geopolitics. While it may yield temporary gains—buying time and sowing confusion within Iran’s security apparatus—it opens the door to a host of unintended consequences. Betting on regime change through unilateral military action in a country as complex and cohesive as Iran is not just a high-stakes gamble—it may well be a strategic miscalculation.
Ultimately, if Israel’s long-term security objective is to prevent a nuclear-armed Iran, then military force must be seen not as a solution, but as a means of leverage in a broader diplomatic framework. That requires the reactivation of international consensus, engagement with adversaries, and a sober recognition of the limits of coercion.
Without such a recalibration, Israel risks trading one threat for another—entering a cycle of escalation that may prove far more difficult to manage than it was to initiate.
Note: Muhammad Raiyd Qazi is the Editor of the News & Affairs Network — globalnan.com
