KREMLIN FILES/COLUMN: The war in Ukraine is often framed by optimistic academics, and some policymakers as a cautionary tale—an example of how military aggression can backfire, weaken a state, and isolate it from the world. But that assumption may be dangerously incomplete. For regimes like Iran, the more relevant lesson may not be Russia’s failures, but its endurance.
Four years into the conflict, Moscow has not collapsed. Instead, it has adapted militarily remarkably well, particularly in the past two years. Russia has resisted sanctions to make its economy even more domestically oriented and more reliant on China. It has also dramatically strengthened the security and intelligence structures that sustain authoritarian rule. If Iran’s leadership is studying this war—and there is strong evidence that it is—it may come away with lessons that make it more resilient, more technologically capable, and more repressive. That possibility should concern the United States.
The first lesson Iran’s regime might learn is that war fosters innovation, especially when countries must operate under constraints. Even before Russia’s full-scale invasion of Ukraine, Moscow and Tehran were already working together militarily. While not a strategic alliance like NATO, or anything close to approaching the strength of our “Five Eyes” partnerships, Iran supplied Russia early in the war with Shahed drones, which quickly became a key part of Russia’s strike campaign against Ukrainian infrastructure.
But the relationship didn’t stop at the simple transfer and sale of weapons. Throughout the war, both countries have adapted and improved. Russia has modified Iranian drone designs, increased their range and guidance systems, and expanded domestic production for new generations of its GERLAN drone series (based initially on the Shahed, but evolved significantly since). They have also established a new “Unmanned Systems Troops” branch for their military. Some might argue they are ahead of NATO in this innovation (though still behind Ukraine, thankfully).
Meanwhile, Iran has gained battlefield feedback, collecting real-world data on how its systems perform against modern air defenses when the Russians deployed them. That seems to be paying off in some respects now with Iran’s own conflict. Their drones have indeed penetrated U.S. and allied defenses in the region. U.S. airpower remains a dominant force on any battlefield of any potential conflict still, but for how much longer?
The wartime innovation is not limited to drones. Russia has improvised with electronic warfare, missile production, and decentralized command structures under pressure—the latter being particularly difficult for its Soviet-style military to adapt from, but reports are that they have done so. Iran, which already prioritizes asymmetric warfare, is likely absorbing these lessons. The development of new generations of loitering munitions—like Iran’s IRSA-7—illustrates how quickly relatively simple technologies can evolve into more effective and harder-to-counter systems.
For Iran, the takeaway is clear: even under sanctions and technological isolation, war can accelerate military advancement rather than stall it. That has direct implications for U.S. forces now at war in Iran, and partners in the Middle East, who could face more sophisticated and battle-tested Iranian systems if the war continues.
A second lesson Iran might learn is that prolonged conflict doesn't necessarily topple a regime—it can instead make it more resilient. Western policymakers often believe that ongoing economic pressure and battlefield losses will eventually lead to political change. Russia’s experience complicates that argument and shows how an autocratic system can be built to endure a long conflict.
Despite broad sanctions, export controls, and diplomatic isolation, the Russian government has kept functioning. It has shifted its economy toward non-European partners, especially China, maintained energy revenues, and passed the hardships onto its people. Russia’s domestic production of many agricultural and other goods has actually increased during the war. How does this compare with the U.S. and the West? Not very well, of course. If international shipping stopped bringing goods to the U.S. market, our economy would collapse.
Iran is arguably even better positioned to absorb this lesson. It has decades of experience operating under sanctions, developing informal trade networks, and insulating its core institutions from economic shock. What Russia has demonstrated is that a large, resource-rich, authoritarian state can endure far longer than many expected, even under intense pressure. For Tehran, this reinforces the idea that time may be on its side—that it can outlast external pressure campaigns without fundamentally changing its behavior. That belief, in turn, could make Iran more willing to engage in risky or confrontational actions, calculating that the long-term costs are manageable.
The final—and perhaps most troubling—lesson is the strengthening of the security state. Over the course of the war, Russia’s internal security services, particularly the FSB, have not weakened; they have grown more powerful. As I have argued previously in this column, the FSB now has a strong claim to being the most powerful and all-encompassing security service in the history of Russia, pre- and post-USSR. Compared against the Okhrana, the KGB, Cheka, and even Ivan the Terrible’s oprichniki, that is saying something.
But as the conflict dragged on, the Russian government systematically dismantled what remained of independent media, criminalized dissent, and expanded surveillance and repression. In many ways, the war accelerated a process that was already underway: the consolidation of a security-service-driven state.
History offers a grim parallel. By the end of World War II, organizations like the Gestapo and the SS had become central pillars of the Nazi regime, enforcing loyalty and eliminating opposition. Hitler used the failed Valkyrie plot (Colonel von Staufenberg and other senior Wehrmacht officers who planted a bomb at the Wolf’s Lair) to ruthlessly eliminate all dissent in the final year of the war. Could Iran’s regime similarly build on its already brutal suppression of dissent just before this conflict and then crack down even harder?
While the contexts are different, the underlying dynamic is similar: prolonged conflict can empower internal security institutions, making them the backbone of regime survival. In Russia today, the erosion of freedoms has been accompanied by the rise of a system in which dissent is nearly impossible. Many of the country’s brightest young minds left early in the war, and those who remain often operate under intense fear and constraint. Intellectual life is stifled, and opposition is either exiled, imprisoned, or silenced. Even when in prison, though, as in the case of Aleksey Navalny, that is not enough—the regime imposes the “highest measure” and continues to murder the opposition.
For Iran, this is a powerful example, one they have practiced well over the decades. The regime already relies heavily on its own security apparatus, including the Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps and its many intelligence and security services/police. The Russian experience suggests that war—or even the sustained perception of external threat—can justify further expanding these institutions’ power. It creates a political environment in which repression is not only tolerated but framed as necessary for national survival. The result is a system with little to no space for dissent, where the regime becomes more stable precisely because it is more coercive.
Taken together, these lessons point to a sobering conclusion. Iran’s regime and its new leadership may see Russia’s war not as a warning but as a model: a demonstration that a determined authoritarian regime can innovate under pressure, endure economic punishment, and consolidate power internally even while engaged in a costly conflict. For Russia, they have been telling their people and their claimed allies, like Iran, that they are “fighting all of Europe.” And for Russia, they believe they are prevailing. For Iran, the lesson may be—we can win too.
For the United States, these challenge several core assumptions about deterrence and pressure. If regimes believe they can survive—and even strengthen themselves—through confrontation, then the tools Washington relies on may be less effective than hoped.
The war in Ukraine is not just a regional conflict; it is a global case study in how modern authoritarian states adapt to crises. The danger is not that Iran misreads Russia’s experience, but that it reads it correctly and that we in the West, possibly, have not. And if it does, the next phase of confrontation between Iran and the United States may unfold under conditions far less favorable to deterrence than policymakers expect.
All statements of fact, opinion, or analysis expressed are those of the author and do not reflect the official positions or views of the US Government. Nothing in the contents should be construed as asserting or implying US Government authentication of information or endorsement of the author's views.
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