Iran after two months of war: A society under pressure, a system still standing

The streets are more heavily guarded. The economy is under even greater pressure. Internet access remains restricted. Families are dealing with rising prices, lost jobs, shortages, and fear of what may come next.

But beneath that pressure, the political system has not broken.

The Islamic Republic has lost senior figures, suffered major attacks, and faced growing public frustration. Yet the institutions that matter most — the supreme leader’s office, the Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps, the judiciary, parliament, state media, and the security services — remain in place.

In fact, the war may have done the opposite of what Iran’s enemies hoped. Rather than producing a rapid collapse, it has given hardliners more room to tighten control.

A country under pressure

For ordinary Iranians, the war has become impossible to separate from daily life.

The economy was already fragile before the strikes began. Now, damaged industrial sites, sanctions, inflation, and disrupted trade have made the situation worse. Many people are facing higher prices, fewer job opportunities, and a deeper sense that the future is closing in.

The internet shutdown has added another layer of pressure. For millions of people, access to work, information, communication, and online income has been severely disrupted. Businesses that depend on digital tools have either slowed down or stopped completely.

The government says the restrictions are necessary for wartime security. But for many Iranians, they feel like another form of control.

Food and medicine have become central priorities for the state. Authorities have moved to secure essential imports, even reviving cheaper currency access for basic goods — a policy previously removed because of corruption concerns.

That decision shows how serious the pressure has become. The state is no longer focused only on military survival. It is also trying to prevent the kind of social collapse that can come when people can no longer afford basic needs.

The leadership changed, but power did not shift

The death of senior officials, including Ayatollah Ali Khamenei, created the appearance of a historic turning point.

But the transition that followed was fast and controlled.

Mojtaba Khamenei was selected as successor, and the main branches of the state quickly renewed loyalty to the supreme leader’s office. There was no visible institutional breakdown, no open split between major power centres, and no clear sign that the system’s foundations had been shaken.

That matters.

In Iran, real power does not rest only with one public figure. It is spread across clerical bodies, military networks, intelligence structures, the judiciary, state media, and the IRGC’s political and economic influence.

Those networks survived.

The new supreme leader has not yet built a strong public image. His presence has mostly been communicated through written statements. But the machinery around him is still functioning.

That machinery is the real story.

The IRGC is still the centre of gravity

The Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps remains the most important force in the country’s wartime system.

It leads military operations, influences the economy, controls major networks of power, and maintains street-level pressure through the Basij and other security forces.

The appointment of Mohammad Bagher Zolghadr as secretary of the Supreme National Security Council is a clear signal. He comes from the IRGC’s older hardline generation and is linked to figures who are unlikely to support major concessions to Washington.

This means Iran’s national security strategy is not moving toward moderation. It is moving deeper into the hands of men shaped by the security state.

Even where politicians speak about diplomacy, the terms are still being shaped by the military-security establishment.

Diplomacy exists, but surrender is off the table

Iranian leaders are not refusing talks entirely. Some figures, including parliament speaker Mohammad Bagher Ghalibaf, have suggested that military resistance should be turned into a political agreement.

But there is a hard limit.

Iran does not appear ready to accept demands it sees as humiliation or surrender. That includes giving up domestic uranium enrichment, shipping enriched material abroad, or accepting an agreement that would leave Tehran looking defeated after paying such a high military and economic price.

This is why the nuclear issue has become difficult to separate from the wider war.

Washington and Israel framed the conflict around stopping Iran from ever obtaining nuclear weapons. Tehran insists it does not seek such weapons, but also says it will not abandon the nuclear technology it has spent decades developing under sanctions and attacks.

For Iran’s hardliners, compromise under fire would look like weakness. And in the current political climate, appearing weak may be more dangerous for them internally than continued confrontation.

Hormuz has become the new pressure point

While the outside world remains focused on Iran’s nuclear programme, Tehran is increasingly trying to shift attention to the Strait of Hormuz.

For Iran, the strait is not just a waterway. It is leverage.

Iranian officials argue that any reopening arrangement must recognise Iran’s role, alongside Oman, in managing passage through the area. They also want to introduce fees on vessels passing through, presenting this as compensation for wartime damage.

That position is unacceptable to the US, Europe, and many global markets, which want the strait reopened without conditions.

But from Tehran’s perspective, the logic is clear: if Iran’s economy is being crushed, then global energy markets should not remain untouched.

This makes Hormuz one of the most dangerous parts of the conflict. It connects Iran’s military strategy, economic desperation, and bargaining position in one place.

Control at home is getting heavier

Inside Iran, the state is not only fighting an external war. It is also trying to prevent internal dissent.

The security presence in major cities has become part of normal life. Armed checkpoints, military vehicles, masked forces, and pro-government displays are visible reminders that the state is watching the streets closely.

The judiciary has intensified its warnings. Dissidents, critics, and people accused of helping foreign enemies face arrests, executions, asset seizures, and public humiliation through televised confessions.

Some accusations are linked to espionage. Others involve filming missile impacts, sharing information, or attempting to access outside internet services.

The message is simple: during war, dissent will be treated as betrayal.

That gives the state a powerful excuse to expand repression.

Moderates are weaker than before

President Masoud Pezeshkian entered office with the support of reformists and moderates, but his actual room for manoeuvre appears limited.

He may still handle parts of domestic management and diplomatic messaging, but the war has reduced the space for political softness.

Figures associated with previous reformist or moderate currents — including Hassan Rouhani, Mohammad Khatami, and Mohammad Javad Zarif — remain deeply unpopular among hardliners. In wartime, their influence is even easier to dismiss.

The political centre of gravity has moved further toward those who argue that Iran must resist, not compromise.

This is one of the war’s most important internal effects.

It has not opened the system. It has narrowed it.

The war has changed Iran — but not in the way outsiders expected

Iran is clearly weaker in many practical ways.

Its economy is damaged. Its people are poorer. Its infrastructure has been hit. Its cities are more militarised. Its internet is restricted. Its society is living under heavier fear and pressure.

But weakness does not automatically mean collapse.

The state’s core institutions have survived. The IRGC remains powerful. The judiciary is still active. Parliament continues to function. State media continues to shape the official narrative. The supreme leader’s office remains the symbolic and political centre of the system.

The real change is not that the Islamic Republic has fallen apart.

The real change is that it has become harder, more suspicious, and more militarised.

For ordinary Iranians, that means the cost of the war is being felt at home every day.

For the state, it means survival has become the priority above everything else.

And for Iran’s hardliners, the past two months may have strengthened the argument they have always made: that the country is surrounded by enemies, that compromise is dangerous, and that only force can protect the system.

Two months into the war, Iran is damaged.

But the system behind it is still standing.