Throughout history, particularly since the rise of the Westphalian state system, it has been common for political regimes facing major internal or external shifts to proactively pursue strategic change. Recognizing the potential impact of such transformations on their place in the international order, these regimes often adjust their governing approach and policy orientation — both at home and abroad — by launching reform initiatives. This tendency becomes more urgent when the existing model of governance no longer serves the state’s core interests, such as national security, internal cohesion, external influence or alliance networks.
History offers numerous cases of regimes shifting their governing philosophy to strengthen the state and achieve long-term national goals. A notable example is China’s strategic transformation under Deng Xiaoping, who initiated sweeping reforms to steer the country away from looming risks. That precedent is increasingly relevant today as Iran faces conditions similar to those once experienced by its key ally, China. As such, the political establishment in Iran should be drawing from China’s own playbook — an approach that helped Beijing emerge as a major power. A comparison between the Maoist era (from the late 1940s to the mid-1970s) and the period that followed reveals how the Chinese Communist Party eventually recognized the dangers of prolonged ideological rigidity and the foreign policy isolation that marked Mao Zedong’s rule.
Following Mao’s death in 1976, China entered a new political era that saw a fundamental shift in the way the country was governed. The Chinese leadership moved away from the rigid ideological model that had defined Mao’s 25-year rule — a period during which ideology dominated both domestic and foreign policy, not unlike Iran’s current trajectory. Under Mao, China operated a closed, command-based economy and restricted its international engagement to fellow socialist regimes. His famous maxim, “It is better to remain poor under socialism than to grow rich under capitalism,” epitomized that era’s governing mindset. As a result, China in the 1960s and 1970s was mired in poverty, corruption, unemployment and international isolation. By the end of Mao’s rule, the regime had reached a state of near-paralysis, struggling to meet even its basic governance responsibilities — a situation that many analysts see echoed in Iran today.
The second major transition came with the rise of Deng, who began reshaping the state despite initial resistance from the powerful “Gang of Four,” including Mao’s wife Jiang Qing and her close allies. Deng pushed through a bold reform agenda aimed at pulling China back from the brink. After laying the groundwork for change, he launched a sweeping modernization campaign and introduced a new logic of open pragmatic governance rooted in what he called “socialism with Chinese characteristics.” This hybrid model combined elements of market capitalism with core tenets of Chinese socialism, setting the stage for decades of economic growth. Deng’s reforms reordered China’s internal priorities, shifted its economy toward global trade — especially export-driven production — and removed ideology from foreign policy. This paved the way for greater openness to the West and a more pragmatic regional diplomacy.
Was the gamble worth it? The transformation of China under Deng raised serious questions at the time. How did the dramatic shift in governance and economic policy succeed with formidable challenges such as the powerful Gang of Four and other entrenched centers of influence still loyal to Mao’s vision? The move indeed came with significant political risks, but Deng’s foresight proved decisive. He understood that reform could not be imposed abruptly; it required a conducive environment. His ability to create a climate for change became a textbook example for how regimes can navigate major transitions. Deng famously declared, “Socialism cannot survive if it remains poor,” signaling a pragmatic turn internally while simultaneously assuring the international community of China’s stability and openness.
The results speak for themselves. China’s rise from economic isolation and stagnation to global powerhouse status has been hailed by many economists and political analysts as nothing short of a miracle. Today, the so-called “New China” stands as the world’s second-largest economy, a dominant force in global trade and a central player in shaping international affairs. Its currency is now part of the IMF’s basket of major international currencies, and the country has become the world’s leading exporter — earning it the nickname “the factory of the world.” These achievements, built on bold reform and economic modernization, illustrate the immense benefits that can result from courageous policy shifts. For many, the answer is clear: the risk was not only justified — it was transformative.
Despite continuing for nearly twice as long as the Maoist regime, the Iranian establishment has largely failed to learn from other countries’ experiences with strategic change. It has continued to embrace a dual model of intellectual and ideological isolation — the same formula that led China, under Mao, into economic decline and global marginalization. Over the past 46 years, Iran has remained rigid in the face of mounting domestic and international challenges, responding to worsening conditions not with reform, but with inflexibility.
Iran’s trajectory can be traced through three distinct but interconnected phases of intellectual stagnation. The first phase, spanning from the 1980s up until the Gaza conflict, was marked by severe economic deterioration. During this time, the establishment remained paralyzed even as macroeconomic indicators collapsed —the national currency lost much of its value, poverty deepened into destitution and unemployment rose sharply. Public discontent grew, fueling widespread protests across the country. Meanwhile, Iran became increasingly vulnerable to external threats. It failed to modernize its military, leaving itself exposed to intelligence breaches and targeted assassinations of nuclear scientists. Also, prior to the True Promise operations, Iran’s outdated air defenses underscored a broader pattern of strategic neglect.
The second phase began with the outbreak of the Gaza conflict and the early waves of the True Promise operations. Here, the risks facing the establishment intensified dramatically. Iran suffered a series of geopolitical setbacks as the “Axis of Resistance” — a key pillar of its regional project — began to unravel. Israel launched heavy strikes on Hezbollah in Lebanon, decimating its leadership and capabilities and pushing it out of the active theater. The weakening of Hezbollah was followed by the fall of Assad’s regime — diminishing Syria’s strategic value to Iran. Meanwhile, the United States pressured the Houthis to distance themselves from the Gaza front after striking critical Houthi targets. Therefore, Israel succeeded in rewriting the regional rules of engagement, demonstrating its ability to fight and win a multifront war. As a result, Iran’s longstanding posture of forward defense gave way to a more reactive, defensive stance. Internally, Iran’s socioeconomic woes persisted, yet its leadership remained silent — offering no roadmap for reform or adaptation.
The third and current phase began with the launch of the Rising Lion and True Promise 3 operations. It represents a continuation of the same misreading of strategic realities. This time, however, the consequences have been even more severe. According to strategic analysts, Iran is no longer just facing tactical setbacks — it is incurring strategic losses. In just 12 days of fighting, Israel, with direct support from the United States, delivered precision strikes against Iran’s command and control centers and key state structures. The aim, according to Israeli officials, is to destabilize the leadership and prepare the ground for regime change.
Despite this rapidly escalating danger, Iran’s leadership has yet to acknowledge the gravity of the situation or explore meaningful alternatives. The establishment remains locked in the same cycle of ideological entrenchment and strategic miscalculation that has defined its long decline. Several developments on the ground illustrate the severity of the challenges currently confronting the Iranian leadership. Chief among these is Israel’s overwhelming air superiority, which has turned Iranian airspace into an open arena for Israeli fighter jets. This has exposed the glaring vulnerabilities of Iran’s air defenses, tilting the balance of power in direct confrontations decisively in Israel’s favor.
Israel has also systematically eliminated high-ranking military leaders closely aligned with Supreme Leader Ali Khamenei — figures who have played pivotal roles in defending the establishment’s ideological direction and shaping its domestic and foreign policies. These were not just military officers, but power brokers central to decision-making on armament and military operations.
In parallel, a large portion of Iran’s ballistic missile infrastructure and drone production facilities — long considered strategic state assets — has been destroyed. These capabilities were used to inflict tactical damage on Israel, but the recent strikes have undermined this pillar of Iran’s deterrent capacity.
Additionally, Israel has launched targeted assassinations of leading nuclear scientists, reflecting a broader strategy to dismantle Iran’s nuclear and ballistic program. US President Donald Trump confirmed the success of Operation Midnight Hammer, which targeted and severely damaged key nuclear facilities at Fordow, Natanz and Isfahan, declaring, “We took the nuclear bomb out of the hands of the Iranians.”
Perhaps more alarming for Tehran is the unprecedented level of intelligence penetration and security exposure — vulnerabilities that may prove even more damaging than its inadequate air defenses. Israeli and allied operations have extended beyond military targets to strike symbols of regime authority, such as Evin prison — which holds political dissidents — and the Basij headquarters, a key institution enforcing internal control.
Despite the mounting dangers across all three stages of crisis the establishment has passed through — from long-term stagnation to intensified geopolitical setbacks, and now strategic-level losses — the leadership has yet to articulate or embrace any genuine reform initiative. Unlike China in the post-Mao era, which shifted its governance logic to protect and preserve the state, Iran has resisted even minor adaptive measures. This resistance is rooted not in a refusal to change the establishment’s ideological identity, but in a rigid unwillingness to revise its governance model — even though doing so could safeguard the system.
China did not abandon socialism after Mao. Rather, it recalibrated the way it governed, laying the groundwork for modernization and ensuring regime survival. The turning point for China was its recognition that it needed to create a conducive environment for reform — a step that paved the way for what is now called an economic miracle.
Iran today finds itself at a similar crossroads. Whether it can generate the political will and intellectual capacity for meaningful change remains uncertain. What is clear, however, is that history is replete with examples of regimes that collapsed after prolonged stagnation and an inability to adapt. Conversely, regimes that recognized the urgency of change often emerged stronger, more stable and better positioned within the global order.
The moment calls for bold action — beginning with preparing the domestic climate for constructive and strategic transformation. The question now is not whether Iran should change, but whether it still has time. Are we on the verge of witnessing a transformative moment in Iran similar to Deng’s economic miracle in China — or is the country heading further into an ideological and strategic abyss?
Opinions in this article reflect the writer’s point of view, not necessarily the view of Rasanah
