Iran’s nuclear program is no longer merely an energy project or even a card in negotiations with the West. Over the years, it has become part of the psychological and political nucleus of the regime itself. Its survival seems tied to its success in safeguarding this “strategic achievement,” its only remaining token of prestige and strength since its traditional tools of influence in the region eroded.
For many years, Tehran has been keen to present its nuclear project as a “resistance” project aimed at breaking Israel’s superiority to both the Iranian public and the broader Muslim world. At times, it has even suggested that acquiring nuclear weapons, should it happen, would be a step toward “eliminating Israel” or creating a balance of fear.
A deeper reading of the Iranian regime’s behavior, however, suggests that the issue goes beyond its conflict with Israel. It is primarily tied to its geopolitical and identitarian race with other regional and Islamic powers, foremost among them Pakistan: the only Muslim state that has actually succeeded in acquiring nuclear weapons.
That is the most critical dimension. Tehran, which has presented itself since the 1979 revolution as the “leader of the revolutionary Islamic world,” found itself facing an embarrassing strategic state of affairs: the only Muslim state to enter the nuclear club was not Iran, but Pakistan, a traditional ally of the West, China, and the Gulf at different stages. That is, it seems that Iran’s insistence on high-level enrichment is not linked only to deterrence against Israel or the United States, but also to the desire to claim the title of “the foremost Islamic nuclear power” or at least to create psychological and strategic balance within the Islamic world.
This dimension is rarely discussed frankly in Iranian or Arab media. Iran’s narrative of the program has been built around the framework of “the Palestinian cause” and “confronting Israel,” slogans better suited to stirring sentiment and rallying popular support. The more complex dynamic, however, is shaped by the sectarian struggle over regional leadership and status within the Middle East and the Islamic world. States do not spend hundreds of billions, endure suffocating sanctions for decades, and gamble with the future of entire generations for ideological slogans alone; power, status, prestige, and influence are always part of the calculus. Iran is no exception to this rule.
Iran’s nuclear program has reached an extremely sensitive stage. Tehran possesses hundreds of kilograms of highly enriched uranium, and Western experts believe this would allow it to manufacture several nuclear bombs if the political decision to do so were taken. This fact makes the nuclear file more than just a scientific project. It has become a “guarantee of survival” for the regime, which has lost many of its regional cards. After its proxies suffered severe blows in several arenas, enriched uranium is its last deterrent against Washington, Tel Aviv, and the world.
It is from this angle that one can understand why it is so difficult for Tehran to hand over this stockpile. For the regime, the issue is not technical, but existential and psychological; it is a matter of sovereignty. The ruling authorities deeply believe that abandoning this stockpile would mean surrendering its last elements of deterrence and losing the prestige of the revolutionary project. Indeed, it could be said that the Iranian regime is no longer enriching uranium alone; it is also enriching the idea of its own survival and continuity. The higher the levels of enrichment, the more the regime is able to promote its image as a “besieged great power” domestically, projecting an ability to defy the West, unsettle Israel, and impose itself as a player that cannot be ignored.
Yet the paradox is that this “nuclear achievement,” marketed as a national victory, has become a massive economic and strategic burden on the Iranians themselves. Years of sanctions and isolation have depleted its resources, and the poor and middle classes of Iran have been hit the hardest by the constant military tensions. Here, the fundamental distinction between the normal state and the ideological state becomes clear. The former asks “How do we improve people’s lives?” while the latter asks, “How do we preserve the project, even if society erodes beneath its feet?”
That is perhaps why Tehran seems more attached to its nuclear program than ever before: retreat is no longer read merely as a political concession; it now amounts to a symbolic defeat for this regime that has built its legitimacy on the idea of “historic steadfastness” in the face of the world.
Nevertheless, modern history offers harsh lessons about the perils of the “obsession with nuclear power.” A bomb may grant a state deterrence and prestige, but it does not build an economy, feed a nation, or consolidate stability. The Soviet Union itself had been in possession of thousands of nuclear warheads when it collapsed from within: an excess of military power cannot always save regimes from structural crises.
As for the Middle East, it is already groaning under the burdens of wars, divisions, sectarianism, and poverty. The last thing the region needs is a new nuclear arms race. It needs development projects and political pragmatism, disassociating power from fantasies of annihilation and ideological victories. When the nuclear bomb becomes a means for maintaining regimes rather than protecting homelands, uranium becomes the energy sustaining historical anxiety in a region that has not known true peace for decades
