About two months have passed since the United States and Israel launched attacks on Iran, yet the conflict has proven far more complex than either side initially anticipated. These observations are from an aggregate of my unidentified colleagues present in Iran and witnessing these events, many of whom were initially very critical of the Tehran regime. It is important to hear their voices. What began as a military confrontation has extended beyond the battlefield to include the targeting of civilian infrastructure. This shift carries consequences that go well beyond short-term damage, as it resonates within a society whose collective memory is shaped by experiences of war and foreign intervention. The issue, therefore, is not merely the degradation of infrastructure or increased pressure on the state; it is the reproduction of a longstanding and deeply rooted perception of the external enemy. Such a perception may not only awaken a sense of national cohesion among the politically ambivalent segments of society and temporarily reduce internal divisions but also complicate the prospects for a favorable order for the U.S., future geopolitical opportunities, and any potential strategic alignment with Iran.
During the protests of January 2026, Donald Trump addressed the Iranian public with the message that “help is on its way.” This statement suggested a premeditated U.S. intention to attack Iran under the pretext of supporting its people, an intention that materialized 46 days later, on February 28. However, within weeks, the trajectory of the conflict shifted. Targets increasingly included civilian infrastructure such as bridges, railway lines, petrochemical plants, airports, steel industries, and cement factories. Among these was the B1 Bridge in Karaj, widely regarded as a major engineering achievement and not yet inaugurated at the time of the strike. Another notable case was the attack on the Mahshahr petrochemical complex, the largest of its kind in Iran and the broader region. Israel also targeted the South Pars gas field, the largest natural gas field in the world and the backbone of Iran’s energy sector. These actions took place against the backdrop of repeated threats by Trump to destroy Iran’s infrastructure. Israeli officials have similarly indicated that further strikes on Iran’s energy infrastructure depend on the U.S. green light, while Benjamin Netanyahu has openly acknowledged that petrochemical infrastructure in Iran has been targeted.
Targeting infrastructure is not new. In the past century alone, one can point to Allied attacks on German and Japanese infrastructure during World War II, Iraqi strikes on Iranian oil refineries in the 1980s, U.S.-led coalition attacks on Iraq’s electrical grid during the 1991 Gulf War, NATO’s targeting of Serbia’s infrastructure in 1999, and Russian cyberattacks on Ukraine’s power grid in 2015. What distinguishes contemporary conflicts, however, is the centrality of this tactic, the increased precision of targeting, and the emphasis on societal resilience rather than purely military objectives. In effect, such strategies seek to exert pressure on civilian populations in order to influence state behavior. Notably, both the U.S. and Israel have framed this attack as being in the interest of the Iranian people.
The targeting of infrastructure, therefore, is not incidental but a deliberate, strategic choice. The critical question is whether such a strategy serves long-term objectives or merely achieves short-term gains. Before addressing this, it is necessary to consider why the U.S. and Israel, despite their belief that a majority of Iranians oppose the Islamic regime, have chosen to pursue this course of action. Do attacks on bridges, railways, and pipelines primarily harm the population, or do they weaken the state?
The principal justification offered by policymakers in Washington and Tel Aviv is that such attacks will cripple the Islamic Regime (IR). By disrupting energy exports and economic activity, they argue, the state’s revenue streams will diminish, mobility will be constrained, and domestic pressure will intensify, ultimately producing a weakened and potentially more compliant government. This would allow it to have greater leverage to impose its demands. For instance, following strikes on South Pars pipelines, Israeli officials stated that their objective was to disrupt the regime’s financial resources. Some reports claimed that these attacks affected approximately 12 percent of Iran’s total gas production and rendered up to 85 percent of petrochemical export capacity inoperative. Given that Iran’s annual petrochemical exports amount to roughly $13 billion, the economic implications are substantial.
Yet even if one assumes that the ultimate goal is regime collapse, there are strong reasons to question whether targeting infrastructure would accelerate such an outcome. Evidence from other contexts suggests the opposite. Despite extensive destruction of infrastructure in Gaza, Hamas has not capitulated. Similarly, the Houthis in Yemen and Hezbollah in Lebanon have endured sustained external pressure without regime change. In fact, such strategies may generate increased social cohesion, particularly among politically undecided segments of the population, directed against external actors. The rally-around-the-flag is an observable real-world conflict effect that needs to be taken into account. For ideologically driven regimes, civilian infrastructure, and even civilians themselves, can effectively function as a form of strategic buffer, where external attacks reinforce internal narratives and ideological commitment. They deeply adhere to Khomeini’s principle that “preserving the political system is the highest of obligations,” rather than prioritizing Iran, its people, or its civilization.
On April 7, Trump went as far as threatening the destruction of Iran’s civilization. Regardless of whether this was a political bluff or a serious intention, such rhetoric effectively validated longstanding claims by the IR regarding U.S. hostility toward Iran and its people. These statements and actions by Donald Trump targeting Iran’s infrastructure have stirred anti-American sentiment among segments of Iran’s “gray” public, something that has become visible across social media. Some have responded with sarcasm, asking whether Trump intends to return Iranians to the greatness he repeatedly promised or instead push them back to the Stone Age. Some others have also responded by holding nighttime gatherings in the streets in protest against this move by Donald Trump. At the same time, reporting by the Associated Press highlights how these threats have translated into everyday anxiety among ordinary citizens, with many fearing power outages, water shortages, and the collapse of basic services as the deadline approached.
The Iranian state, in turn, has capitalized on these developments, reinforcing its narrative of external enmity and using it to mobilize public sentiment. Indeed, from the perspective of the IR, such actions may be advantageous: they strengthen anti-American discourse, attract the politically ambivalent, and reduce the gap between state and society.
At the same time, the regime’s own record underscores its ideological prioritization over public welfare. For decades, significant national resources have been allocated to supporting allied groups, its four H such as Hezbollah in Lebanon, the Houthis in Yemen, Hashd al-Shaabi, and Hamas. The concept of national interest, in this framework, is defined primarily through ideological commitments rather than public welfare. The prolonged disruption of internet access, costing an estimated $40 to $80 million per day in economic losses, illustrates the limited weight given to societal costs. U.S. officials themselves have acknowledged this dynamic. Figures such as Marco Rubio have criticized the Iranian government for allocating resources to military and proxy activities rather than domestic infrastructure and public well-being.
This raises a fundamental question for the Iranian public: why would the U.S. and Israel, fully aware of the nature of this ideological regime, choose to target infrastructure that directly affects civilians? Is this not precisely the scenario that the IR seeks? What distinguishes the actions of these external actors from those of the regime itself if all appear indifferent to the welfare of the population? Are the targets truly the state or the country as a whole? If the objective is behavioral change or capitulation, the experiences of Gaza, Yemen, and Lebanon suggest that such strategies are unlikely to succeed, particularly in a country as large and complex as Iran.
For ordinary Iranians, the consequences of these attacks are immediate and tangible: fuel shortages, power outages, disruptions to hospitals and businesses, and a pervasive sense of insecurity. These lived experiences are transformed into narratives through domestic media, social networks, and political discourse. A comparable dynamic can be observed in the Iran–Iraq War, where attacks on infrastructure left a lasting imprint on Iranian national consciousness. Over time, repeated exposure to such narratives contributes to the formation of collective memory, fostering distrust and negative perceptions of external actors. This, in turn, raises the political cost of engagement and alignment with those actors. Policymakers seeking rapprochement may face public resistance, as trust and domestic legitimacy, both essential for strategic partnerships, are undermined.
Historical experience reinforces this pattern. NATO’s bombing of infrastructure in Serbia during the 1990s contributed to enduring anti-Western sentiment, while public opinion in Iraq has remained deeply skeptical of the U.S. Attacks on infrastructure do not simply degrade material capacity; they reshape political attitudes. By directly affecting civilian life, they enable regimes to reassert control over the narrative, amplify perceptions of external threat, and consolidate a degree of social cohesion in their favor.
Under the shadow of military tensions with the United States and Israel (2026), Iranian parents are facing deep concerns about the safety and psychological well-being of their children. Reports point to child casualties in conflict zones, the psychological impact of war on children’s development, and the importance of maintaining a sense of stability and calm at home during periods of heightened risk. These worries increased after the reported school incident in Minab on the first day of the war, in which 165 girl students were killed. As a result, many parents are afraid to send their children to school. At present, around 16 million Iranian students are continuing their education through online learning.
In sum, the targeting of infrastructure in modern warfare is no longer a marginal or purely tactical measure; it has become a central instrument of political and military pressure. Its effects extend beyond physical destruction into the social and cognitive domains, where narratives, lived experiences, and collective memory can produce consequences more enduring than material damage. Ultimately, the key variable is not merely military capability but the ability of actors to manage the political and narrative repercussions of such strategies.
If this trajectory continues, at least three outcomes appear plausible: the normalization of infrastructure as legitimate targets in future conflicts; a widening gap between official narratives and societal experience; and the reproduction of cycles of distrust that constrain the possibility of durable agreements. Under such conditions, decisive power will lie not only in material force, but in the capacity to shape narratives and influence collective memory. The central question, therefore, remains unresolved: can targeting infrastructure alter state behavior, or does it instead reproduce new forms of resistance and social cohesion? More importantly, in the long run, who ultimately bears the cost of such wars: the states that wage them or the societies caught in between?
