The Iran War has heightened Russian suspicions that the US seeks regime change in Moscow.
When the United States and Israel launched military strikes against Iran in February of this year, most Western attention naturally focused on the Middle East. Yet, the consequences of the conflict extend far beyond the region. In Moscow, the war sparked reactions among foreign policy analysts about what the conflict means for Russia’s own security and the war they are waging in Ukraine.
How have the leading Russian foreign policy analysts interpreted the war in Iran? While it is hard to determine who is actually “influential” in Russian foreign policy decision-making aside from President Vladimir Putin, recent commentary by Fyodor Lukyanov (editor-in-chief of Russia in Global Affairs), Dmitri Trenin, (a member of Russia’s foreign and defense policy council and former director of the Carnegie Moscow Center, with whom the author Andrew Kuchins worked from 2000 to 2007), and Ivan Timofeev (director general of the Russian International Affairs Council) provides some insight on the perspective from within the Russian political elite.
Looking across their analyses, one conclusion stands out. The Iran War hasn’t produced a fundamental change in Russian strategic thinking. Instead, it has reinforced ideas that predate Putin’s presidency but have nonetheless become more prominent during his now 26-year tenure.
Four themes are recurring.
First, the conflict is seen as further evidence that international norms, the so-called “rules-based order,” have steadily lost their meaning.
Second, it has strengthened the belief that Russia’s own network of strategic partners is becoming more cohesive under Western pressure.
Third, it has reinforced the perception that the Western alliance is politically less united than it appears.
Fourth, Russia itself could be vulnerable to the US predilection for regime change.
Together, these themes suggest that the Iran War has confirmed already existing strategic narratives and anxieties. In Russian eyes, the conflict provides evidence that Russia could be the next victim of a Western intervention.
The first and foremost theme is the belief that the international rules governing the use of force have steadily weakened. Russian analysts do not see the Iran War as an isolated event. Instead, they describe it as the latest step in a much longer process in which military power has gradually displaced international law as the main organizing principle of international politics. Lukyanov embraces this argument most explicitly. He argues that the Iran War shows Washington no longer feels the urge to seek international legitimacy for military action, marking a shift from at least formally respecting international law to the 19th-century logic of “might makes right.”
Earlier post-Cold War military interventions, starting with the Serbian War in 1999, still involved attempts to justify force through the United Nations or other international institutions. In Iraq, the United States tried to build international support, even though it ultimately invaded without approval of the Security Council. In Libya, intervention took place under a UN mandate establishing a no-fly zone. None of that happened in the Iran War, which makes Western foreign policy both more unpredictable and more dangerous. Simultaneously, this has created an impression in Putin’s mind over more than two decades that the drift of US foreign policy is essentially destabilizing and often incompetent; see Afghanistan, Iraq, Libya, Syria, and now Iran.
In line with these concerns, analysts show sharpened anxiety about Russia’s regime security. Ivan Timofeev argues that the United States has increasingly demonstrated a willingness to target national leaders directly, pointing to the capture of Venezuelan leader Maduro and the assassination of Ali Khamenei. Lukyanov raises a related concern, warning that normalizing the targeting of heads of state creates a dangerous precedent. He argues that Iran marks a significant departure from earlier Western-led leadership changes:
“Even when compared with the brutal ends of Muammar Gaddafi or Saddam Hussein, the difference is stark. Gaddafi was killed by Libyan opponents amid internal collapse; Hussein was executed following a trial conducted by an Iraqi court, however flawed one may judge it. Iran’s case is different. It resembles the method Israel has used against the leadership of Hezbollah and Hamas: direct elimination by external force, without intermediaries, without legal framing, and without the pretense of internal process.”
He further emphasizes that if political leaders conclude that they themselves have become legitimate military targets, they may increasingly view nuclear weapons as the only credible guarantee for regime survival. The broader implication of Lukyanov’s argument is that the Iran War could ultimately have produced the opposite of its intended outcome, namely an increase in nuclear proliferation. If this idea gains traction within the Russian elite, it will complicate future arms control and efforts to de-escalate the war in Ukraine. This concern was further borne out by the Russian claims in late December 2025 that Ukraine had sent a drone to bomb Putin’s residence in the Valdai Hills. This was a big, yet unverified, story in Russian news for several weeks.
Furthermore, the conflict appears to have reinforced an already growing skepticism toward diplomacy. US withdrawal from the JCPOA in 2018 and the current war are seen as evidence that agreements with Washington provide only temporary security. Consequently, Timofeev argues that diplomatic concessions merely postpone future pressure. He views the US withdrawal from JCPOA as proof that negotiations conducted from a position of weakness ultimately invite additional demands.
Trenin reaches a similar conclusion. He argues that dialogue with Washington remains necessary to reduce the risk of escalation. But it should never be accompanied by trust in American commitments. Finally, Lukyanov mentions a broader shift in Moscow’s strategic thinking. While acknowledging that Kremlin decision-making remains opaque, he is certain that recent events in Iran have weakened the position of those in the Kremlin advocating for restraint.
Another striking conclusion these Russian thinkers take from the Iran War is that economic sanctions and military force are no longer separate instruments of Western policy, but successive stages of the same strategy. Timofeev argues that the Iran case shows that economic pressure is rarely an end in itself. While Russia’s nuclear arsenal makes direct NATO intervention unlikely, he argues that Western military pressure is already visible through military assistance to Ukraine, Ukrainian strikes inside Russia and Europe’s remilitarization. And most importantly, the lack of restraint in the use of Western weapons by Ukraine on Russian soil.
For the first years of the war, the United States placed restrictions on the use of most of its weapons against targets inside Russia. Somewhat ironically, given Trump’s desire to mediate the conflict, restrictions have been relaxed since the start of his second term. Of course, this is also because Europe, rather than the United States, now provides Ukraine with the lion’s share of financial and military support, making Washington’s views carry less weight in Kyiv.
At the same time, European governments have increasingly supported Ukraine’s ability to strike Russian territory, and many states, notably Germany and Poland, are dramatically increasing their military spending. Removing previous constraints and the unpredictability of Western military interventions could change Russian calculations about what constitutes an appropriate response. Moscow could respond by expanding the conflict’s geographic scope and start seeing European interests and infrastructure as legitimate targets. Such threats are now a staple of Russian news broadcasts.
Trenin places the developments in Iran within a broader geopolitical struggle. In his view, the United States increasingly relies on instability and managed chaos to preserve its global dominance, which he sees as a sign of a declining Western-led order. This argument is characteristic of Trenin’s work over the last 12 years and reflects a broader strand of thinking within the Russian foreign policy establishment: that American pressure is pushing non-Western powers towards closer strategic cooperation.
He describes Russia, China, Iran, Belarus and North Korea as the emerging core of this anti-American Eurasian security system. The war has, in his view, brought these countries closer together. Iran’s ability to withstand the combined pressure of the United States and Israel demonstrates that Washington cannot easily impose its will, not even on a heavily sanctioned state. This contention is hard to dispute.
The developments since the outbreak of the full-scale war in Ukraine provide some evidence for this interpretation. Russia has deepened military cooperation with Iran and North Korea, while China has become increasingly important to both relationships. Moscow is also providing Tehran with targeting assistance similar to the support Ukraine receives from the United States. What is good for the goose is good for the gander. North Korea has meanwhile supplied Russia with troops and military support for the war in Ukraine, with rumors of more on the way.
The war with Iran has further shown how conflicts involving these countries are becoming connected. Support for one partner can increasingly be used to put pressure on another’s adversaries. This contrasts with what Trenin sees as growing divisions within the opposing Western camp. The United States and its European allies remain formally aligned. Still, disagreements over the Middle East and the future of European security have exposed differences in their interests and willingness to bear the costs of confrontation.
Taken together, Russian analysts see a Western alliance that is less cohesive and less decisive than it appears, while also perceiving fewer constraints on the use of Western military power. The growing use of Western weapons for strikes on Russian territory is particularly important in this regard. Combined with the uncertainty created by what Moscow sees as an increasingly unpredictable Western foreign policy, this could affect how Russia calculates escalation risks. If Russian policymakers believe that the previous limits on Western involvement in the war have disappeared, they may also conclude that Russia has fewer reasons to observe similar limits itself. The implications are grave.
About the Authors: Andrew Kuchins and Fenna de Vos
Andrew C. Kuchins is a senior fellow at the Center for the National Interest and an adjunct professor at the Johns Hopkins University School of Advanced International Studies. He has served as President of the American University of Central Asia and the Director of the Carnegie Moscow Center as well as the Russia and Eurasia Programs at the Carnegie Endowment for International Peace and the Center for Strategic and International Studies. He is the author or editor of seven books, and has published columns for The Wall Street Journal, The New York Times, The Washington Post, and many other media outlets.
Fenna de Vos is a graduate student in International Relations at Leiden University, focusing on global conflict. She has a background in History, Russian Studies, and Middle Eastern studies. She interned with the Clingendael Institute’s Security Unit in The Hague, working on Russia, Eastern Europe, and national resilience, and was a summer intern at the Center for the National Interest. Her research interests include Russia and its relationship with the West, Iran, and international security.
SOURCE:https://nationalinterest.org/feature/how-the-iran-war-confirmed-russias-worst-fears-about-the-us
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