Can Turkiye sustain its policy of ‘controlled neighborhood’?

As the US-Israeli war on Iran escalates, Ankara’s balancing act is under pressure – even as the region’s fragmentation threatens Turkiye’s own security paradigm.

Mehmet Ali Guller

The Cradle 

The US’s central objective in West Asia has long been the construction of a new regional order built around Israeli hegemony. The principal obstacle to such an order is Iran. Weakening Tehran and stripping it of its regional influence, therefore, remains a strategic priority.

In this framework, Washington sees Turkiye as occupying a critical position. American planners calculate that a regional architecture could be constructed around either an Israel–Turkiye–Saudi Arabia axis or an Israel–Saudi Arabia–Egypt alignment.

Over the past two years, the US strategy has taken a clear shape. It has pursued a sequence of steps designed to weaken the region’s resistance actors and political forces aligned with Iran.

Hamas has been severely weakened. Pressure continues on Lebanon to curtail Hezbollah’s military capabilities. Assad’s government has fallen in Syria. In Iraq, efforts have been made to block the return of Nouri al-Maliki as prime minister. 

Emboldened by these developments, Washington and Tel Aviv believed that an intensive air campaign against Iran could ultimately trigger regime change. Yet the events of the past week have shown that this calculation was flawed. The expectation that domestic unrest in Iran would reignite under external attack has not materialized.

The consequences for Turkiye

Since 1991, US military and political interventions in West Asia have repeatedly produced negative political and economic consequences for Turkiye. A prolonged war with Iran would amplify those effects dramatically.

Despite these risks, the Turkish government ultimately aligned itself with Washington in both Iraq and Syria.

Support for the US invasion of Iraq left Turkiye with a new neighbor: the autonomous Kurdish region led by Masoud Barzani.

Backing US policy in Syria produced another set of consequences. Turkiye faced a massive refugee influx and the emergence of Kurdish autonomous structures along its southern border.

The Syrian conflict also created a new geopolitical reality. Through its involvement there, Turkiye effectively became a de facto neighbour of Israel. Although Ankara portrays itself as one of the winners in Syria, the country is gradually moving toward a structure resembling a US-Israeli mandate, reinforced by a Kurdish card that can be played again in the future.

In the current confrontation with Iran, the new Syrian order has already positioned itself openly against Tehran and its allies. 

The Turkiye–Israel project

For years, Washington promoted a post-Assad Syria as the key to restoring cooperation between Turkiye and Israel. In both Ankara and Tel Aviv, there were those who saw such a scenario as opening the door to dividing influence over Syria between the two states.

This outlook stands in stark contrast to the founding principle of the Turkish Republic’s foreign policy: “Peace at home, peace in the world.” Ironically, it would also place Turkiye in direct neighborhood with Israel.

Following former Syrian president Bashar al-Assad’s downfall, Washington moved quickly to advance this agenda. The rise of Hayat Tahrir al-Sham (HTS) leader Ahmad al-Sharaa (formerly known as Abu Mohammad al-Julani) as Syria’s president was widely viewed as a development that could ease Turkiye–Israel cooperation.

From Washington’s perspective, such cooperation would also help secure the broader regional order built on Israeli dominance. The proposed framework extended across a wide geographical arc stretching from the Caspian Sea to the Mediterranean and the Persian Gulf.

US ambassador to Ankara and special envoy for Syria Tom Barrack repeatedly hinted at this vision, declaring that Turkiye and Israel would soon cooperate across the region from the Caspian to the Mediterranean.

Even the proposed Zangezur Corridor linking Azerbaijan and Armenia – reportedly being transformed into a 99-year “Trump Corridor” initiative – was seen as part of this broader strategic project.

At its core lay a clear objective: the formation of a Turkiye–Israel front against Iran. Such a coalition would include not only Sharaa’s Syria but also Arab states and Kurdish forces in northern Iraq. Even Turkiye’s recent domestic political initiative, promoted under the slogan of a Turkish–Kurdish–Arab alliance, aligns closely with Washington’s broader strategy.

Ankara holds its line

Against this backdrop, the US-Israeli attack on Iran unfolded.

Yet Turkiye did not immediately align with Washington and Tel Aviv. During the first week of the conflict, Ankara pursued a cautious balancing policy. It criticized the US-Israeli assault on Iran while also objecting to Iranian threats against Gulf states.

Even before the operation began, subtle signals hinted at Turkiye’s stance. A photograph released by the White House showing US President Donald Trump meeting Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu included a map in the background detailing the bases the US intended to use for the operation. Turkish bases were noticeably absent.

In practice, Ankara maintained this position during the first week. Turkiye neither opened its airspace nor allowed military bases on its territory to be used for attacks against Iran.

The missile provocation

Such a balancing posture, however, was unlikely to go unchallenged.

A breaking report soon claimed that a missile launched from Iran had been heading toward Turkiye and had therefore been intercepted. The missile was reportedly detected by the NATO radar system in Kurecik, while NATO units in the Mediterranean carried out the interception.

Within hours, however, the story began to unravel. Iran’s General Staff stated that no missile had been fired toward Turkish territory. Iranian Foreign Minister Abbas Araghchi echoed the denial.

On the same day, one detail in the Turkish Ministry of Defense confirmed a crucial detail:

“It has been determined that the fragment of the missile that fell in Dortyol district of Hatay province belongs to the air defense munition that intercepted the threat in the air.”

Three facts, therefore, stood side by side. Iran insisted it had not targeted Turkiye. NATO radar systems had registered a launch, and NATO interceptors had been fired. Yet the debris falling on Turkish territory did not originate from Iran. 

The attempt to disrupt Ankara’s balancing policy failed. Another provocation soon followed. 

The Azerbaijan angle 

The next day, a similar narrative emerged in Azerbaijan. Reports claimed that Iranian drones had targeted the Nakhchivan Autonomous Republic, which is linked to Azerbaijan. 

Iran again denied the claim, stating it had conducted no drone activity against Azerbaijan.

Unlike Ankara, however, Baku appeared more willing to adopt a confrontational stance. Azerbaijani President Ilham Aliyev declared:

“We will not tolerate this unprovoked act of terror and aggression against Azerbaijan. Our Armed Forces have been instructed to prepare and implement appropriate retaliatory measures.”

Yet Aliyev himself described the incident as “unprovoked.” Iran had said it did not carry out such an attack. Despite this, a retaliatory move by Azerbaijan would undoubtedly please the US and Israel.

Aliyev, who has maintained good relations with Israel even during the Gaza genocide, may well have had another agenda.

Indeed, after his statement, calls began emerging among both Azerbaijani and Turkish circles – citing the defense agreement between the two countries – for joint action against Iran.

Pressure on Ankara

Recent history offers important context. During the 12-day Israel–Iran war eight months earlier, intelligence operations attributed to the CIA and Mossad relied on drones launched from inside Iran to identify targets and conduct assassinations.

Iran had little incentive to provoke Turkiye or Azerbaijan. The US and Israel, by contrast, had strong incentives to push both countries toward confrontation with Tehran.

For now, Ankara appears to have resisted the pressure.

Turkish President Recep Tayyip Erdogan adopted a warning tone, stating, “Necessary warnings were issued to Iran. Despite these warnings, it continues to take the wrong steps.”

Turkiye's Foreign Minister Hakan Fidan also weighed in: 

“We spoke with our friends in Iran and said if this was a missile that lost its way, that's one thing. But if this is going to continue ... our advice is: be careful, don't let anyone in Iran embark on such an adventure.”

Yet if the conflict continues, pressure from Washington is likely to intensify. The US will seek access to Turkish airspace and military bases.

Provocation attempts similar to those already witnessed could easily reappear.

Moreover, Ankara’s balancing strategy faces structural vulnerabilities, particularly its membership in NATO. Washington understands these dynamics well, having exploited similar circumstances in past regional conflicts.

Regional unity and Turkiye’s security

For Turkiye, the security equation has historically been straightforward. The unity of its neighbors contributes to the unity of Turkiye itself.

Mustafa Kemal Ataturk’s principle of “Peace at home, peace in the world” reflected this understanding. Stability in neighboring states reinforced stability within Turkiye, and vice versa.

For decades, this principle shaped Turkish foreign policy. Even after joining NATO, Turkiye largely preserved this principle despite occasional tensions involving Iraq and Syria.

The turning point came with Washington’s deeper involvement in West Asia. 

When the US launched its war against Iraq in 1991 and sought Turkish support, Turkiye's president at the time, Turgut Ozal, signaled his willingness to cooperate. The principle of regional balance was effectively set aside, although the Turkish armed forces’ regional outlook limited the extent of Ankara’s involvement.

A similar situation emerged during the 2003 US invasion of Iraq. Like Ozal, Erdogan initially supported cooperation with Washington. The Turkish parliament’s rejection of the 1 March motion slowed the process, yet the government ultimately supported the war through other channels.

The result was the emergence of a Kurdish autonomous entity along Turkiye’s southern frontier.

A comparable pattern unfolded in Syria after 2011. This time, Ankara played a far more active role, sometimes criticizing Washington for failing to move quickly enough against Damascus.

After 14 years of turmoil, Assad’s government collapsed in 2025. Turkiye now faces another Kurdish political structure on its southern border.

The integration of the Kurdistan Workers' Party (PKK) and Kurdish People's Protection Units (YPG) forces into the Syrian army may appear to address this issue. In practice, however, it also creates space for a de facto autonomous structure.

The US intervention in Iraq and the war in Syria fundamentally altered the regional balance. Iraq was formally transformed into a federal state, while Syria effectively moved in the same direction.

For decades Turkiye had viewed the unitary character of both neighbors as a strategic advantage. The equation was simple. A unified Iraq and a unified Syria reinforced Turkiye’s own unity.

That equation has already been weakened. Washington now appears intent on undermining the third pillar: Iran’s territorial integrity.

If Turkiye repeats the mistakes it made in Iraq and Syria, the consequences could be far more severe. The destabilization of Iran would carry major repercussions for Turkiye.

There are also voices in both the US and Israel arguing that once Iraq, Syria, and Iran have been reshaped, Turkiye itself could become the next target.

The base trap

For this reason, Ankara must preserve its policy of controlled and balanced neighborhood relations.

One threat to this approach lies in further missile-related provocations. Another lies in the potential risks posed by foreign military bases on Turkish territory.

Regardless of their legal status, these bases represent a serious vulnerability so long as US operations there continue.

If Washington were to launch an attack on Iran from these bases without Ankara’s consent, the consequences for Turkiye could be severe.

Preventing such a scenario requires decisive action.

Until the conflict ends, Turkiye should suspend US operational activities at these bases and enforce that decision.

Only by doing so can Ankara avoid being drawn into a confrontation that threatens both regional stability and its own security

Kurds: The New Strategy in the US–Israel War Against Iran

Unable to defeat Iran from the air, the United States and Israel are reviving an old imperial playbook, yet a recent strategy: instrumentalizing Kurdish forces to ignite internal unrest and push the country toward a Syria-style fragmentation.

Ricardo Martins

The Fragmentation Strategy: Turning Ethnic Fault Lines into Geopolitical Weapons

The war surrounding Iran appears to be entering a new and far more dangerous phase. After the first wave of American and Israeli airstrikes, Washington is now quietly shifting towards a familiar geopolitical instrument: the activation of local ground forces. In this case, the potential proxies are the Kurds.

From the perspective of Donald Trump, the calculation is relatively straightforward. A rapid military victory against Iran through air power alone is unlikely. Tehran’s military infrastructure is deeply dispersed, and its political system has demonstrated resilience under external pressure. As a result, the prospect of a «Balkanization» of Iran has begun. The model is not new. It repeats the Syrian playbook, where the CIA supported and armed groups that transformed internal unrest into a prolonged civil war.

The Kurdish card may prove far more explosive than those currently playing it anticipate

This is not new in Iran either. In particular, Baloch militant groups operating across the Balochistan region of Iran and Pakistan have received external backing from the CIA. Unrest in the region and several attacks targeting Chinese interests linked to the Belt and Road infrastructure projects in Pakistan’s Balochistan have also been linked within the broader framework of geopolitical competition surrounding China’s expanding presence in the region.

Within this framework, attention has now turned to Iranian Kurdistan. Kurdish populations, like other ethnic minorities in Iran, are concentrated in peripheral regions where historical tensions with the central government have periodically erupted. Some Kurdish militias have, in the past, advocated autonomy or even secession. For strategists seeking pressure points within Iran’s territorial structure, such movements may appear as potential leverage.

Yet the implications of such a strategy are enormous. Iran is a country of more than ninety million people, composed not only of Persians but also Azeris, Kurds, Arabs, Baloch and other minorities. Many of these communities inhabit frontier regions that already experience socio-economic marginalization. External encouragement of separatist dynamics could transform isolated unrest into a much wider conflict.

Trump suggests he is exploring this possibility. Only one day after the beginning of Operation Epic Fury, Donald Trump, according to Axios, held phone conversations with Masoud Barzani, a leading figure of the Kurdistan Democratic Party, and Bafel Talabani, head of the Patriotic Union of Kurdistan. The talks were reportedly facilitated by Benjamin Netanyahu, suggesting that the Kurdish dimension has been actively discussed between Washington and Tel Aviv.

The Kurdish Corridor: How Iraq Becomes the War’s Logistical Front

The geographic centre of this dynamic lies in Erbil, capital of the autonomous Kurdistan Region of Iraq. The city hosts a major American military installation at Erbil International Airport, which has already become a focal point of regional tensions. Shortly after the start of the conflict, several drones were intercepted over the base, attacks claimed by the Iran-aligned «Islamic Resistance in Iraq». These incidents highlight the fragile strategic environment surrounding any attempt to transform Iraqi Kurdistan into a logistical platform for operations against Iran. However, some geopolitical analysts say arms will be flowing in the next few days from Iraq to Iran to arm some Kurdish groups in the country.

For Iraq, the situation represents a profound political dilemma. Prime Minister Mohammed Shia Al‑Sudani has insisted that only the Iraqi state can decide questions of war and peace, warning against the country being dragged into a wider confrontation. Yet the reality is more complex. Without Iraqi territory serving as a supply line and staging ground, any Kurdish-led operation against Iran would be extremely difficult. In effect, Iraq risks becoming the rear base of a conflict it does not control.

The Regional Domino: Syria and Turkey on the Edge

The Kurdish question also reverberates beyond Iraq. To the west, the fragile political equilibrium in Syria could quickly fail. Earlier in 2026, the interim Syrian government led by Ahmad Al‑Sharaa reached an integration agreement with the Kurdish-dominated Syrian Democratic Forces. The arrangement represented a tentative step toward stabilizing northeastern Syria after years of war. However, if the United States were to mobilize the same Kurdish forces again as part of a broader campaign against Iran, Damascus would likely abandon that agreement, which could reopen another Syrian conflict.

An equally volatile variable is Turkey. Ankara has spent decades fighting the Kurdistan Workers’ Party, the PKK, which it considers a terrorist organization. Any Western attempt to empower Kurdish armed groups across the region risks undermining fragile peace initiatives inside Turkey itself. Even Abdullah Öcalan, the imprisoned PKK leader, recently called for renewed reconciliation efforts. A sudden militarization of Kurdish forces linked to American strategy could derail that process overnight.

Washington has travelled this road before. Kurdish forces were crucial allies during the 2003 invasion of Iraq and later during the campaign against Bashar al-Assad in Syria. Each time, however, American alliances proved temporary. Local partners were embraced when strategically useful and dumped when U.S. geopolitical priorities shifted.

The Kurdish Question: Strategic Opportunity or Strategic Trap?

Some Kurdish leaders appear well aware of this pattern. Iranian Kurdish opposition figures have already signaled reluctance to become pawns of the Trump and Netanyahu war. Khalil Nadiri, spokesman for the Iranian Kurdistan Freedom Party, has publicly stated that Kurdish groups do not intend to wage war against Tehran at the request of any foreign country.

This hesitation reflects a broader reality: the Kurdish issue intersects simultaneously with the internal stability of Iran, Iraq, Syria and Turkey. Any attempt to instrumentalize it risks triggering a chain reaction across the entire region, amplifying further the scope of this war.

For Israel, the calculation may be that air superiority combined with internal fragmentation could weaken Iran and turn it into a failed state, so it can be the hegemon in the region. Yet history suggests otherwise. External military pressure often produces the opposite effect: strengthening nationalist mobilization within targeted states.

The paradox of the current strategy is therefore striking. A campaign intended to weaken Tehran could instead consolidate Iranian internal cohesion, destabilize neighbouring countries, and ignite new cycles of regional conflict.

The Middle East rarely responds to controlled experimentation. What begins as calibrated pressure frequently evolves into a cascade of unintended consequences. In such an environment, the Kurdish card may prove far more explosive than those currently playing it anticipate.

Ricardo Martins – Doctor of Sociology, specialist in European and international politics as well as geopolitics

Israel ‘up to its neck, unprepared’ for two-front war against Iran, Hezbollah: Report

Iran and Hezbollah are launching daily joint rocket and missile barrages against Israel, while Yemen warns that its ‘fingers are on the trigger’  

News Desk - The Cradle

The Israeli military is “not prepared” to fight a two-front war against both Lebanon’s Hezbollah and the Islamic Republic of Iran, Hebrew newspaper Maariv reported on 9 March.

The newspaper’s military correspondent Avi Ashkenazi described the Israeli army as a “relatively small army” with “limited power and resources.”

“It is not prepared to manage two fronts simultaneously with the power to drop thousands of munitions every day of war,” he added. 

The report goes on to say that the pace of Hezbollah’s rocket and drone attacks is increasing, targeting bases and outposts as well as cities and settlements across the north. 

The Israeli military is now “in a half-pregnancy phase,” while the air force is “up to its neck in attacks on Iran,” Maariv says, warning that the current Israeli army pace is not enough to “silence Hezbollah.”

Joint barrages launched in a coordinated fashion by Hezbollah and the Islamic Republic have been ongoing since the Lebanese resistance joined the war on 2 March. 

Sirens sound dozens of times throughout each day across the entirety of Israel, repeatedly forcing millions into shelters multiple times. 

Hezbollah said on Monday afternoon that it “launched a qualitative missile strike at 12:15 pm on Monday, 09/03/2026, against the Zayif air defense base in the occupied city of Haifa.”

The attack came as an Iranian missile strike on Tel Aviv killed two people. Since the start of the war, key US Army radars used to help track ballistic missiles were destroyed or damaged by Iranian attacks on Jordan and the Gulf. 

Meanwhile, in south Lebanon, Hezbollah has inflicted casualties on Israeli troops attempting a ground invasion. 

Footage released Sunday by the Lebanese resistance shows the killing of two Israeli soldiers by Hezbollah anti-tank fire. 

According to the Israeli Health Ministry, 1,929 injured Israelis have been evacuated to hospitals since the start of the war with Iran.

Commander of the Iranian army’s Khatam-al Anbiya Central Headquarters, Major General Ali Abdollahi, responded over the weekend to repeated US and Israeli media claims regarding Iran’s missile capacity. 

“The enemy has repeatedly claimed it knows the number of Iran’s missiles, but it should count them on the battlefield to realize that it knows nothing about Iran’s real capabilities,” the general said. 

The Maariv report comes as Israel is anticipating the potential eruption of a new front – Yemen. 

The Ansarallah movement has said that its “fingers are on the trigger, ready to respond at any moment should developments warrant it.”

Under fire, not divided: Why Iran’s ethnic front has not cracked

The US-Israeli war was meant to fracture Iran along ethnic lines. Instead, the opening phase of the assault suggests Washington misunderstood a key reality: diversity does not equal fragility.

Peiman Salehi

The Cradle 

Wars involving large and diverse states often produce a familiar assumption among outside observers: sustained military pressure will eventually expose internal fractures. Since the launch of the US–Israeli attacks on Iran, similar expectations have circulated across policy commentary and media analysis. 

Many analysts predicted the war might activate Iran’s ethnic fault lines, particularly in the western provinces where Kurdish communities live near the Iraqi border and where several armed Kurdish opposition groups operate.

Yet developments inside Iran have so far defied that assumption.

Rather than triggering centrifugal pressure, the attacks appear to have reinforced a broader sense of national cohesion across many parts of the country – including regions that foreign analysts frequently portray as vulnerable to separatist unrest.

The misreading of Iran’s diversity

Iran’s ethnic composition has long been interpreted through an overly mechanical framework. The country is not a homogeneous nation-state. Large Azeri, Kurdish, Arab, Baluch, and Turkmen communities live across the country, and several provinces also contain substantial Sunni populations.

Yet diversity in Iran has never automatically translated into separatism. Ethnicity and national identity overlap in more complex ways than many foreign analyses suggest. 

Azeris, for example, have long been deeply embedded in the political and military core of the state, while Kurdish regions, despite periods of tension, have also maintained economic and social integration with the wider Iranian political system. Even members of Iran’s highest leadership, including newly appointed Supreme Leader Mojtaba Khamenei, come from families with Azeri roots.

These overlapping identities complicate the narrative that ethnic difference alone constitutes a structural weakness.

Nevertheless, the strategic focus on Iran’s Kurdish west during the current war reflects a longstanding belief among some policymakers that ethnic divisions can be activated during moments of crisis. According to data cited by the Wall Street Journal (WSJ), drawing on figures from the conflict monitoring organization ACLED, roughly one-fifth of US and Israeli strikes in Iran during the opening phase of the conflict were concentrated in Kurdish-majority provinces in the country’s west.

The same report noted that several targeted sites included police facilities, border guard posts, and regional security infrastructure. In practice, this pattern suggests that military planners believed pressure on these areas might generate not only security disruption but political fragmentation as well.

Militancy without mass traction

Reports surrounding Kurdish opposition movements reinforced this expectation. A syndicated AP dispatch noted that several Iranian Kurdish dissident groups based in Iraq’s Kurdistan region had indicated they were preparing for possible operations if the conflict expanded. 

At the same time, reporting from Erbil described how Iranian strikes targeted camps belonging to exiled Kurdish opposition groups in northern Iraq.

Iranian officials warned that any attempt by separatist factions to exploit the war would be met with decisive retaliation. Iraqi federal authorities and officials in the Kurdistan Regional Government also stressed that Iraqi territory should not become a launchpad for attacks against neighboring states. 

Regional actors clearly understand the stakes. A destabilized frontier could quickly drag neighboring states into a wider confrontation. 

Even Turkiye’s Defense Ministry publicly acknowledged it was closely monitoring developments involving PJAK and other Kurdish militant organizations and warned that any escalation of separatist activity could threaten broader regional stability. 

These statements show how seriously multiple governments have treated the possibility that the conflict might trigger unrest across Iran’s western borderlands.

Yet the presence of armed groups does not automatically translate into a viable insurgent opening.

The analytical mistake lies in confusing organizational existence with political traction. Groups such as PJAK, Komala, and the Kurdistan Freedom Party do exist, and some have attempted to reorganize their networks during periods of regional tension.

But the social base required for a sustained uprising inside Iran is another matter. Iranian Kurdish society is politically diverse. It includes nationalists, reformists, religious movements, leftist activists, and communities that are critical of the central government yet remain wary of militant strategies backed by foreign powers. Armed organizations can exploit instability. They cannot manufacture broad social legitimacy. 

War, memory, and national cohesion

Foreign military pressure has also altered the political environment in ways that many outside observers underestimated. Iran entered the war amid significant economic strain linked to sanctions inflation and earlier protests. 

However, external military attacks tend to reshape the relationship between state and society. Even citizens who criticize the government often distinguish between domestic political disputes and foreign intervention.

The US attack on a girls’ school in the southern Iranian city of Minab became a powerful symbol in this context. AP reporting indicated that the strike on the school triggered condemnation and calls for investigations into possible violations of international humanitarian law. Images of schoolchildren killed during bombardment quickly circulated across Iranian social media. 

Whatever Washington’s stated narrative about weakening the Iranian state, the perception that civilians, especially children, had become victims of the conflict dramatically shifted the emotional tone of the war inside Iran.

When war is framed internationally as pressure on a government but experienced locally as violence against society, political reactions can change quickly. 

Rather than generating support for external intervention, such incidents often reinforce national solidarity. 

In Iran, this reaction has been shaped by historical memory and cultural narratives. The eight-year Iran–Iraq war, from 1980 to 1988, remains one of the most powerful collective memories in the country’s modern political culture. 

During that conflict, volunteers from different ethnic and religious communities mobilized to defend the country against what was widely perceived as foreign aggression.

This legacy continues to influence how many Iranians interpret external military pressure today. Cultural symbolism also plays a role. In Shia historical tradition, the story of Imam Hussein’s stand against injustice in the Battle of Karbala remains a powerful moral reference point. Although rooted in religious history, the narrative has long been integrated into broader political language about sacrifice, resistance, and endurance.

Iranian officials have framed the current conflict in similar terms.

Ali Larijani, secretary of Iran’s Supreme National Security Council, recently warned Kurdish opposition factions not to treat the war as an opportunity to pursue separatist ambitions.

He suggested that projects aimed at fragmenting Iran – particularly ideas about detaching Kurdish regions from the country – have collapsed under the realities of the conflict. 

The limits of fragmentation strategies 

None of this means the danger of unrest has disappeared. 

Kurdish militant organizations remain active across the border, and external actors may still view them as potential instruments of pressure. A prolonged war could reshape local dynamics in unpredictable ways. Yet the opening phase of the conflict has already demonstrated the limits of strategies built on the assumption that ethnic diversity alone can fracture the Iranian state.

If anything, the opposite dynamic may be unfolding.

External military pressure has temporarily reinforced the perception of a shared national frame across Iran’s diverse communities. The first week of war has shown how poorly the political sociology of Iran is still understood in many external analyses. 

A country can be ethnically diverse without being politically fragile in the way outsiders imagine. Local grievances do not automatically translate into separatist revolt, and militant organizations do not necessarily represent the political will of the communities they claim to defend.

In the early days of the war, the concentration of strikes in Iran’s west appeared designed to test whether the country could be fractured along its ethnic seams. 

So far, the outcome has been the opposite. Pressure intended to activate Iran’s internal divisions has instead reinforced the broader national frame that many observers expected would fracture under sustained external attack.