MARCH 11: Every war has a visible front line and an invisible one. The visible front in this conflict spans the skies of the Middle East, where successive waves of Iranian drones and missiles currently test the air defences of a US-Israeli coalition that expected a quick, surgical victory. The invisible front runs through the corridors of power in Tehran and Washington, where two parallel transformations that will outlast any ceasefire or missile count are underway.

Crucially, the US-Israel launched unprovoked military strikes against Iran while bilateral negotiations were still underway—a betrayal of diplomacy that effectively foreclosed any possibility of a negotiated settlement. Iran’s subsequent retaliatory strikes were acts of legitimate self-defence under international law, and Tehran has since made clear it will entertain no ceasefire or peace talks with adversaries who have repeatedly demonstrated bad faith. Russia and China, along with other nuclear-armed states, have openly aligned with Iran, forming a formidable axis of resistance against what they view as US hegemony. 

What has become abundantly clear in this latest escalation with Iran is that Washington calculated on internal betrayal—the expectation that Iran's own elites would surrender, that negotiations would follow, and that the war would remain a managed affair not unlike the tacit understanding that shaped last year’s 12-day conflict. Yet even that earlier engagement went off-script, as we explored in “Deterrence Unscripted: What the Iran–Israel Escalation Really Revealed.” Despite the obvious back-channel arrangements, Iran demonstrated its military potency without even deploying its most advanced weaponry at that time.

But this time, everything has gone awry for the planners. Iran has unexpectedly seized the very opportunity that the United States handed it, as any state fighting for its sovereignty would. War, whatever its horrors, is an extraordinarily effective mechanism for techno-social state transformation and the hardening of governing institutions. And for Iran, this is precisely the moment such transformation is most needed.

For any state, culture forms the bedrock of governance. And notably, for Persians, the statecraft module is embedded in the culture itself, not merely in the institutions of the moment, sustaining unity for over two and a half millennia. Unlike the United States, which struggles with a mere two hundred and fifty years of history, Iran possesses a civilisational depth capable of absorbing serious shocks.

In other words, it is not merely the echelons of power, the military and clerical system but ordinary Iranian people who possess the conceptual capacity to see through the US-Israeli game — especially given that this script is nothing new but rather cut from the same pattern used time and again across the region and the world.

The February 28 strikes, which killed Ayatollah Ali Khamenei along with senior commanders, were intended to trigger systemic collapse.

However, rather than fragmentation, the elite coalesced and rather than paralysis, pre-planned succession mechanisms engaged quickly. By March 8, Mojtaba Khamenei had been elevated as supreme leader with his appointment blessed by the Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps (IRGC) — the institution that has now solidified its role as ultimate kingmaker, executing pre-planned contingencies and dictating strategy.

But the deeper transformation lies in what wars always expose. For years, Iran has been afflicted by what can only be called a “subscription elite” — a stratum of managers and negotiators whose primary loyalty was not to their nation but to the preservation of their own position within a system of external dependency. These are the people who insisted on negotiations with the United States over matters that were none of America’s business, who believed that dialogue could substitute for deterrence.

The war has become their undoing.

Even before the conflict escalated, in early January, Iran was struck by a wave of nationwide protests that took a particularly violent turn. What began as economic demonstrations quickly morphed into something far darker: protesters killed children, murdered clergy, and set fire to mosques — as if intentionally striking at the very heart of what is most sacred to the Iranian population. They deliberately targeted the most painful symbols of Iranian identity and faith, effectively demonstrating that these forces were not simply advocating for reform but were actively working against Iran itself. The state responded by suppressing the uprising, while the nation took notice.

Later, already during US military strikes, when a girls’ school in Minab was struck, killing more than 170 children and teachers, the space for compromise simply vanished. To speak of any possible “talks” after the murder of schoolgirls is not pragmatism but blatant treachery. And in wartime, treachery is cleansed. War is thus proving much-needed diagnostic, revealing who responds to national imperatives and who follows imported scripts. Those who cannot now stand with their country will be removed—by the logic of war if not by formal process.

This is what state building looks like under fire. The nation consolidates. The traitors are marginalised. The remaining elite, whatever its previous inclinations, is now cornered into patriotism.   

So, while Washington expected a Venezuelan-style transition, killing Ayatollah Khameini and boasting about it with arrogated impunity, only consolidated and unified the Iranian people. Ayatollah is not a common political leader. He is a revered Imam, and spiritual head of not only 88 million Iranians, but also nearly 300 million Muslim Shias across the globe. It also triggered a solidarity with Muslim Sunnis worldwide numbering 2.2 billion.

Furthermore, the deployment of force reveals something striking not only about US plan but also, indirectly about their true military capabilities.

To crush Iraq in 2003, the coalition gathered approximately 300,000 troops from 49 nations and five carrier groups. Iran is vastly larger and infinitely more potent. Nevertheless, in the current conflict, the United States has manoeuvred two carrier strike groups into position — the USS Abraham Lincoln and USS Gerald R. Ford, accompanied by roughly a dozen destroyers and supporting vessels (NDTA, 2026). This constitutes the largest American naval buildup in the region in decades, yet it remains a force designed for air campaigns and defence, not occupation. And even if there is some landing force, then even that, judging by the latest news, has been drowning in shit. 

This stark contrast highlights the true state of American military power. Thus, not coincidently, their modern invasions rely heavily on internal fifth columns to succeed.

On the other end, Iran is fighting this war very differently from last year. There has been a dramatic escalation in drones and missiles launched in the first few days alone compared to the entire 12-day war last year — expending three years’ worth of global Patriot missile production in the process. Reportedly, Iranian strikes have severely damaged US military installations across the Gulf, including the Fifth Fleet headquarters in Bahrain and Ali Al Salem Air Base in Kuwait, with satellite imagery confirming destroyed structures and collapsed roofs (NYTimes, Xinhua). And the sheer economic asymmetry of this war — America's expensive old-war technologies versus Iran's cheap and new — exposes the absurdity of the nuclear threat narrative more powerfully than any diplomatic communique. 

Trump, meanwhile, in his characteristically hyperbolic manner, is bragging about success and victories, while situation room photos show no joy, only anxiety. At home, his administration faces a bipartisan subpoena over withheld Epstein files — a distraction the war was meant to provide. When pressed on victories, he deflects, admiring statues instead of detailing successes. This silence speaks volumes.

The question now is not whether Iran can survive this war. It is whether the American republic can survive the exposure this war is generating. For as Iran rebuilds itself through resistance, the American war machine is draining its credibility, its munitions, and its political capital — all while a president who never anticipated this conflict would escalate this far watches from the sidelines, positioned to claim vindication when the bills come due. But vindication requires a functioning state to claim it from. And that, increasingly, is the open question.

* Rais Hussin is the President/CEO of EMIR Research, a think tank focused on strategic policy recommendations based on rigorous research.

** This is the personal opinion of the writer or publication and does not necessarily represent the views of Malay Mail.