If this is truly a war, then it must be a war of purpose, not merely of means. After the American and Israeli strikes against Iran, the question is no longer whether “too much has been done.” It is whether there is clarity about where this is meant to lead—and whether that is being stated honestly.

Our thesis is simple: the American and Israeli military intervention in Iran must now go all the way—toward the overthrow of the Islamic Republic’s regime and the emergence of a secular transitional government. Stopping short, settling for a cosmetic solution, risks producing the worst possible outcome: an Iran weakened but not transformed, more resentful and more adaptive, ready to use the pause as a ventilator.

Too many conflicts over the past decades have begun with grand objectives and ended with compromises that resolved nothing. A few capabilities are degraded, a “message” is sent, diplomacy is invoked. Then, when the dust settles, the opposing political system is still there: it has lost men and infrastructure, but it has gained something more valuable than both—the proof that it can survive. In the Middle East, that quickly becomes an investment.

Those calling today for “de-escalation” imagine, more or less consciously, something along these lines: a change at the top, perhaps a more presentable figure, followed by a negotiating table. A “Venezuelan-style” solution, in short: a new face, more cautious rhetoric, but the real levers of power—security services, opaque economic networks, parallel militias—firmly in place.

The problem is not only moral. It is practical. An Iran that changes tone without changing its nature buys time. And for a regime under pressure, time means reconstruction.

The Islamic Republic is not simply a government in the hands of a dictator; it is an architecture of control. Even the internal succession scenario following the killing of Supreme Leader Ali Khamenei shows how the system has procedures designed to absorb shock and manage crisis, at least in the short term. A “moderate” reshuffle therefore risks becoming a re-legitimization: a way to convince the world that the game is over, while inside Iran the same structures reorganize themselves—more cautiously, perhaps, but with fewer scruples.

Settling for a “Venezuelan-style” solution would give the Islamic Republic time and bring another actor into play—one that would then become more assertive and far less tolerant of further military action: China. This is not a conspiratorial fantasy. It is how great-power competition works. When a conflict remains open and unresolved politically, those interested in freezing it try to turn that freeze into the new rule.

In recent hours Beijing has called for an immediate ceasefire and insisted on Iran’s sovereignty and territorial integrity, while the crisis has reached the UN Security Council with Russia and China among the promoters of the emergency session. It is a predictable move: if you cannot decide the ending, you try to stop the film halfway and declare that to be the new “normal.” From that moment on, every subsequent Western move becomes more costly—not only militarily, but diplomatically. De facto vetoes multiply, pressures to “return to diplomacy” intensify, accusations of destabilization grow louder. The window for genuinely changing the regime closes, and in its place remains a fragile balance in which Iran can recover and China can consolidate its role as external guarantor.

Why this urgency? Because a regime that survives such a blow would likely become more, not less, dangerous. One need only look at the regional network Tehran has built over the years: alliances and support for armed groups and militias across multiple theaters, often described as part of an “axis of resistance.” The space to overthrow a regime that finances the Hezbollah–Hamas–Houthi axis is now: if the system is given time to reposition itself, its foreign policy will soon return to being an instrument of deterrence and revenge.

Of course, no one can easily promise or wager on an orderly transition. Iran is not a small country, nor a simple one, nor free of internal fractures. And there is a heavy precedent—from Iraq to Libya—that demonstrates how easy it is to knock down a building and how hard it is to prevent it from collapsing on the people beneath it. It is no coincidence that many experts warn that a conflict aimed at regime change may produce more problems than it solves. The Atlantic Council, for example, has explicitly argued that such a strategy risks being counterproductive.

Going all the way, therefore, must mean working toward a secular transition with a clear and concrete minimum objective: preventing state collapse while dismantling the regime’s hardest levers of control—its repressive apparatus and parallel power structures.

The choice, then, is not between war and peace, but between a risky transformation today and a likely conflict tomorrow, when the window will have closed and external arbiters will be stronger. An Iran that changes its face may be more convenient for a few months. An Iran that changes its nature would be more difficult—but ultimately more useful.