Iran’s leadership prioritizes missile power over basic welfare, pouring scarce resources into the military amid inflation, poverty, drought and collapse, leaving governance paralyzed while society fights for mere survival.
“(The country) must advance militarily, and by God’s grace our military officials work day and night, and God willing, we will move even further ahead.”
This was part of Ali Khamenei’s speech on 2 November, a wholly political address that outlined the regime’s approach in its “neither war nor peace” standoff with the United States and Israel.
After the 12-Day War with Israel and the reactivation of UN snapback sanctions, Iran is now caught in two simultaneous crises: the economy and the restoration of deterrence. In his 2 November speech, the Supreme Leader did not utter a single word about the economy or any plan for it.
Khamenei described the regime’s way out of the current predicament as “becoming stronger,” immediately tying this strength to military power and insisting that the military was doing its job with full force.
His message to the public—both inside and outside Iran—was clear: in his view, the crises of water, electricity, gas, inflation, land subsidence, and air pollution are not serious enough to choke the Islamic Republic. He avoided naming these crises altogether and called them matters belonging to the government, not to the position of the Supreme Leader. In his view, “the government must do its work in its own areas.”
For Khamenei, the meaning of “strength and power” right now is military, and the regime’s authority is still displayed in the smoke trails of missiles streaking across the sky.
Scene One: The One Who Knocks at Nightfall
In recent months, every day brings a new headline about Iran’s economic collapse: inflation above 45 percent; official reports of 24 million people in absolute poverty; warnings about the impending bankruptcy of the electricity and water sectors; and an unprecedented drought so severe that even officials have had to use the word “catastrophe.” Masoud Pezeshkian warns that water rationing will begin in Tehran in December, and even says evacuation of the capital cannot be ruled out if it does not rain.
Evacuating the capital? To where? With what money and infrastructure? How will millions of displaced people feed themselves?
The Islamic Republic has no answers. For a long time, officials have specialized only in “describing the crisis.” Actual “solutions” or “capacity to solve the crisis” are nowhere to be found—not in the government, nor in the hollow speeches of parliamentary representatives. Even promises of solutions have stopped. At least false hope once comforted some; now, conditions are so dire that even empty promises are too burdensome for officials to offer.
Majid Mir Latifi, an economics lecturer speaking on state media, warns that within months even bread and yogurt will be out of reach for ordinary people—not because they will not exist, but because people will no longer be able to afford them.
Meanwhile, IRGC-aligned media and military commanders repeat the same chorus: “the need to raise the defense budget,” “major weapons procurement,” and “production of a new generation of ballistic missiles.”
Salar Velāyatmadār (IRGC commander Salar Abnush), a member of parliament’s National Security and Foreign Policy Committee, says legislators have understood that the remedy lies in “strengthening the country’s defensive and security capacity in the current sensitive regional conditions.” He says the committee is planning a significant increase in the military budget in next year’s budget bill.
Where should the Islamic Republic’s limited money go? For Velāyatmadār, the parliament, the IRGC, and the Supreme Leader, the answer is obvious.
He says parliament has a comprehensive plan to “strengthen the country’s defense capabilities, especially in border security, intelligence, and internal security,” calling this “a priority” to bring the armed forces’ deterrence and rapid-reaction capacity “to the highest level.”
According to the same reporting, parliament’s defense committee is already conducting extensive technical and operational needs assessments to identify all gaps in equipment, training, and infrastructure—and to fill them with budget allocations in the next fiscal plan.
To an outside observer, the future may seem unclear. But for the power holders of the Islamic Republic, the path is obvious: the system will be protected by the roar of its missiles.
The two images of Iranian society could not be more contradictory. It is as if two different worlds, two different narratives, are unfolding within one country.
Scene Two: Government, Economy, and the Bowl of Confusion
A few hundred meters away from parliament, in the cabinet meeting, ministers and the president speak about another world. The economy minister talks about the budget deficit and efforts to repair it. The agriculture minister complains that importers received foreign currency at the preferential rate of 28,000 tomans for rice imports but either failed to import rice or sold it at the free-market rate. The energy minister speaks about drought and praying for rain. Pezeshkian’s executive deputy speaks of gasoline becoming three-tiered and tacitly confirms that the heads of the three branches have agreed to raise gasoline prices.
A country whose economy cannot “stand on its feet” cannot manage a potential war. This is the question Khamenei deflected entirely onto the government. What concerns him—for now—is military power.
Scene Three: The Street and Survival
The spectacle of power is in full display. In the middle of Enghelab Square in Tehran, the state unveils a statue of kneeling Roman emperors before Shapur I, with a bold promise: “You will kneel before Iran again.”
Who is supposed to kneel? Israel? The United States? Europe? It is unclear. Will they lose in war or in the economy? Also unclear. A mixture of tragedy and dark comedy is unfolding. A black comedy, perhaps.
The moods of the people walking through Enghelab Square bear no resemblance to the newly installed statue. “The people of the Islamic Republic” and “the people living in Iran” have become dramatically different groups.
The concern of “people in the streets” is survival; the concern of the Islamic Republic and its loyalists is the survival of the system. Both camps are fighting to survive, but the big stages, the billboards, the loudspeakers, and state TV channels showcase only the latter.
Scene Four: The Islamic Republic’s End-Times Logic
In IRGC-aligned think-tank meetings, analysts repeat a phrase that has echoed across state media:
“Restoring the balance with Israel is only possible through missile power.”
The regime’s preference is clear:
If there must be a choice, missiles take priority over bread.
This binary has paralyzed governance, even as the system insists it is the cure.
The military holds immense power in the structure of the Islamic Republic. Most importantly, the Supreme Leader has always been its loyal patron. The balance of power inside the system makes clear where the limited resources will go. When budget priorities are not the product of expert deliberation but of power relations within the regime, the victor is clear in advance: the IRGC.
“Strengthening the military and postponing the issue of bread” is the regime’s current decision—unless the slap of reality forces a change. In the meantime, society grows poorer every day, and the missile billboards grow larger.
And yet a certain sentence keeps echoing inside parts of the system: There are not enough resources to save the economy, nor enough capacity to restore deterrence or dispel the fear of war.
When a government cannot govern, reality makes decisions on its behalf.
And reality is merciless.
