The Octopus Survives — For Now
Ever since the first salvo of Operation Rising Lion, it became increasingly clear that Israel wasn’t merely targeting Iranian proxies — it was striking at what its military doctrine calls the head of the octopus. To Israel, Iran has long ceased to be a marginal regional challenge and is now regarded as a strategic menace; it is the generator of chaos, the architect of instability — the true source and, for that matter, an existential threat. What was once cautiously whispered in policy briefings — regime change — is now spoken aloud, couched in calls for “freedom” and “liberation” addressed directly to the Iranian people.
And yet, just as Israel appeared ready to sever not only the tentacles — Hezbollah, Hamas, the militias in Syria and Iraq — but the octopus itself, momentum was halted. A fragile, American-imposed ceasefire, brokered by Donald Trump and timed alongside precision U.S. strikes on Iran’s nuclear facilities, has pressed pause on what many saw as the conflict’s decisive act. Washington’s message was unmistakable: manage the escalation, but stop short of collapse.
Still, the Islamic Republic doesn’t emerge unscathed. The Iran’s infrastructure has taken visible hits. The aura of invulnerability around the regime’s leadership has been further undermined. Even the Supreme Leader’s authority, once treated as sacrosanct, now faces growing public and institutional doubt. Slogans like “Death to Khamenei” have resurfaced in recent protests, including nightly balcony protests during the 12-day conflict. Observers note that many Iranians, particularly younger ones, blame him personally for dragging the country into war and for economic hardship.
Beneath the bombast — the victory parades, the speeches, the televised bravado — lies a regime that, while still capable of repression and short-term control, is dependent on coercion to maintain authority – a brittle system disconnected from an increasingly disillusioned populace whose silence reflects fear, not consent. .
From the beginning, Israel’s strategy was never just about bombs. It was psychological warfare — a campaign aimed at puncturing the regime’s mystique, undermining its ideological hold, and collapsing its internal confidence. It wielded symbols from the pre-revolutionary era trying to reach not just bodies, but minds. In that regard, much of the damage is already done.
And yet, the octopus recoils. Wounded, yes — but not dead. Its nuclear program, while disrupted, remains its ink: the dark cloud it releases to blur the waters, to confuse and deter, to complicate any direct assault on the regime itself. For decades, the nuclear threat has allowed Tehran to operate with impunity — a shield behind which it extends its reach. That deterrent still lingers, even if momentarily smudged.
The regime’s weakening is no longer in question — only who stands to gain from it. And that, more than anything, now consumes all players on the Eurasian chessboard. The Islamic Republic is no more the unshakable monolith it once seemed; the real contest is not whether it can be weakened, but who will shape the post-shock landscape — and whether that void will be filled by democrats, despots, or new tentacles entirely.
The Octopus Bleeds — and Beijing Moves In
In seeking to weaken the Iranian regime, Israel may have set off a chain reaction it cannot contain — and one whose ultimate beneficiaries may be the very Eurasian powers Washington has long sought to keep in check, starting with China. For all its tactical brilliance, Israel’s campaign risks not only rallying Iranian nationalism but clearing the way for foreign actors better positioned — and more patient — to capitalize on the Islamic Republic’s internal fracturing.
Because while Tehran stumbles, it does not stumble into a vacuum.
Iran is no longer a pariah state scrambling for survival on the margins of global order. It is now a strategic cornerstone of the emerging Eurasian bloc — geographically essential, energy-rich, and increasingly integrated into the systems of power that bind Moscow, Beijing, and a host of regional satellites. Through the BRICS+ framework and the Shanghai Cooperation Organization, and thanks to a sweeping 25-year partnership agreement with China, Iran has become a node too important to fail. Its ports anchor the Belt and Road; its oil fuels Chinese growth; its geography links Central Asia to the Gulf.
For Beijing, a regime collapse in Tehran is not an opportunity — it’s a strategic liability. And faced with the risk of Western-aligned forces filling the void, China has more than one playbook at its disposal.
The first is the most conservative: preserve the current regime, however bruised, by reinforcing it with advanced arms, strategic intelligence, and lifelines of cash and credit. In this scenario, the Islamic Republic becomes a client state on life support — propped up, upgraded, and increasingly folded into China’s security perimeter. A wounded octopus, yes, but one still capable of lashing out — especially once rearmed.
Then there’s the more radical option: steering Iran toward a post-theocratic military transition. Already, quiet signs of strain between the IRGC and the regular army — the Artesh — are surfacing. The former remains ideologically rigid and tied to the clerical system; the latter, though nationalist, is comparatively secular and more modernist. For both Moscow and Beijing, neither ever truly at ease with the mullahs’ dogma, a military-led Iran — stripped of overt religiosity but still autocratic — would be far easier to manage.
A palace coup, engineered quietly and wrapped in nationalist rhetoric, could offer all sides a strategic win: continuity without chaos, change without liberalism. No Green Revolution, no Western footprint. Just a new regime with familiar tools — and friendlier sponsors.
And there are whispers it may already be unfolding. On June 23, 2025, Chinese military cargo aircraft were tracked heading west through Central Asia, only to vanish from radar above Iranian airspace. Possible scenarios abound: weapons deliveries, nuclear materials, or perhaps the quiet evacuation or insertion of key players. What matters is not what was flown in, but what it signals — a subtle but unmistakable shift. China is no longer simply hedging; it may be preparing to guarantee Iran’s political survival — on terms of its own making.
So while Israel sharpens its knives and Donal Trump imagines a vacuum it might someday fill with a pro-western government, the Eurasian bloc is already moving to secure the wreckage. In the end, Israel may have succeeded in wounding the octopus — but it’s Beijing that could end up owning the tank it swims in.
Because in this new game of Middle Eastern power politics, collapse is no longer the endpoint — it’s the opening gambit. And unless the West wakes up to the long game being played east of the Caspian, the future of Iran — and the region — may be written in Mandarin. It is, at the very least, a scenario Western and Israeli policymakers would do well to contemplate — not to shape the present, but to prepare for what comes after.
Pierre Pahlavi is Full Professor, Chair of the Department of Security and International Affairs and Deputy Director in the Department of Defence Studies of the Canadian Forces College in Toronto.
