From South Asia’s perspective–where nuclear thresholds and strategic ambiguity have long shaped the regional order–the latest Israeli strike on Iranian nuclear and military targets evokes familiar tensions between preemption and containment, risk and restraint.

It may take months, perhaps years, to fully assess the consequences of Israel’s decision to escalate. The operation, launched early Friday and still unfolding, has already drawn sharp criticism.

But those critiques must contend with a difficult question: What, realistically, were Israel’s alternatives in the face of an adversary that has publicly and repeatedly called for its destruction?

Only a day prior to the strike, the International Atomic Energy Agency’s 35-member board formally declared Iran to be in breach of its nonproliferation obligations. The IAEA’s technical report cited the rapid accumulation of highly enriched uranium and a persistent lack of transparency about nuclear material at undeclared sites.

Iran’s insistence on unilateral interpretations of legally binding obligations raised further alarms.

Put plainly, Iran’s nuclear program has long walked the line between opacity and provocation, raising doubts not only in Tel Aviv, but also in Vienna and Washington. In a more stable geopolitical environment, diplomacy might have succeeded where force now steps in.

Both the Trump and Biden administrations invested political capital into talks with Tehran–five rounds in the former case, years of quiet negotiation in the latter–only to find Iranian negotiators increasingly evasive and emboldened.

That leaves the question of covert action, which Israel had used for years: targeted assassinations of nuclear scientists, cyber operations like the Stuxnet virus, and sabotage efforts that slowed but never stopped Iran’s trajectory.

Those options, it seems, had reached their limit. A renewed campaign of sabotage would have been preferable–if it were still viable.

Now, as missiles and drones begin to fly, Israel faces the prospect of an escalated regional war. Yet from an Israeli security lens, the strategic rationale remains clear: Prevent Iran from ever reaching the point where its missiles could be tipped with a nuclear warhead.

Of course, academic voices–many of them based in Western as well as Eastern capitals—argue that a nuclear-armed Iran might contribute to strategic stability, offering a deterrent to Israel’s own nuclear capabilities.

But in regions like South Asia, where nuclear-armed neighbors live in a fragile equilibrium punctuated by mistrust and crisis cycles, the notion of deterrence as a stabilizing force feels far more tenuous than it might appear in theory.

A risky gambit

It is tempting, particularly in policy circles removed from the region, to view nuclear deterrence as a stabilizing force.

But such assessments often underestimate the ideological fervor that drives parts of Iran’s clerical establishment–a worldview shaped by strategic calculus as well as by a millenarian outlook, in which martyrdom and confrontation with Israel are framed as religious imperatives rather than mere geopolitical choices.

This ideological component also casts doubt on the notion of a stable nuclear balance in the Middle East. Should Iran acquire a nuclear weapon, regional powers like Saudi Arabia–long Tehran’s strategic rival–may feel compelled to follow suit.

Turkey and Egypt, each with regional ambitions of their own, may not be far behind. The result would be a crowded and unstable nuclear landscape in the world’s most combustible neighborhood, where traditional deterrence models may not apply and diplomatic alignments remain fluid and unpredictable.

Even so, Israel’s strike–however calculated–offers no guarantee of success. In the short term, it could provoke a wave of retaliatory actions, not only against Israel itself but against Western interests across the region.

Tanker traffic through the Strait of Hormuz, already a global economic chokepoint, may become a target. U.S. embassies and military outposts could face renewed threats, and Jewish institutions abroad may see heightened risks.

More strategically, the strikes may push Iran’s nuclear efforts deeper underground–both literally and metaphorically–making future interventions far more difficult while possibly accelerating Tehran’s resolve to acquire a weapon.

Yet these risks are not entirely new. Iran’s regional posture–support for Hezbollah in Lebanon, Houthi attacks on Red Sea shipping, and its influence in Iraq and Syria–has persisted for years, independent of overt Israeli military action.

The Israeli strikes may alter the tempo, but the pattern is well established.

Still, there may be more at play here than deterrence. Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu, in remarks following the attack, called on the Iranian people to rise against what he described as a “cruel and oppressive regime.”

His language–invoking national pride and a call for freedom–suggests ambitions that extend beyond halting uranium enrichment. Regime change, long an unspoken aspiration in some Israeli and Western quarters, may now be an implicit objective.

A dangerous vacuum

Iran’s domestic discontent–driven by economic hardship, restrictions on civil liberties, and widespread frustration among women and minorities–is undeniable.

But translating that unrest into political transformation, especially under the shadow of foreign military strikes, is far from certain. Historically, external threats have often served to consolidate–not weaken–the grip of embattled regimes.

For South Asian observers, where large multi-ethnic states have weathered internal dissent and external pressure with varying degrees of resilience, the Iranian response bears watching.

It is not only a question of retaliation, but of whether the Islamic Republic can maintain cohesion under pressure–or whether a strike aimed at deterrence becomes the first move in a much broader, unpredictable contest.

Some in Jerusalem may view this moment as a potential inflection point: that sustained strikes might not only degrade Iran’s nuclear infrastructure but shake the regime’s foundations.

Netanyahu’s own comments, invoking Iranian national pride and a call to resist oppression, hint at hopes for popular uprising. But if that is indeed the goal, it is a gamble of considerable scale and uncertain odds.

There is, as yet, little evidence that a military strike–however targeted–will catalyze mass revolt. Iran’s most powerful institutions remain firmly under the control of the IRGC and other unelected bodies, which not only dominate the military but command large swathes of the economy.

Unlike fragile regimes vulnerable to internal coups, this one is deeply entrenched, with hardened actors likely to respond to external threats with intensified repression or even greater aggression.

A more alarming scenario is that of systemic collapse. A country of nearly 90 million, Iran’s descent into instability would reverberate across an already fragile Middle East.

Ethnic and sectarian fault lines, long standing grievances, and a fractured opposition could quickly unravel into a chaotic vacuum–one that external powers would struggle to influence, let alone contain.

It seems for now, Israel appears to be wagering on a more favorable outcome: the rise of an alternative leadership. But identifying who that might be is far from straightforward.

The Iranian opposition is notoriously fragmented. Efforts to forge unity after the 2022 “Woman, Life, Freedom” movement–which briefly galvanized a wide spectrum of dissent—soon faltered amid disputes over leadership and the future shape of the state.

Figures like Reza Pahlavi, the exiled son of Iran’s last monarch, have gained attention abroad and some following at home. His recent visit to Israel and growing outreach to Western powers signal his ambition, but his popularity remains uneven and his path to power uncertain.

Others, such as the Mujahideen-e Khalq (MEK), have long advocated for regime change but remain tainted by their alliance with Saddam Hussein during the Iran-Iraq war–an association that continues to alienate many Iranians despite the group’s influential supporters in Washington.

While some exiled opposition groups, such as the Mujahideen-e Khalq (MEK), maintain vocal backers abroad, their influence in Washington appears to have diminished since the Trump era, when figures like Mike Pompeo and John Bolton offered overt support.

Today, their reach into the corridors of power is far more limited. Meanwhile, Iran’s broader opposition remains ideologically diverse and organizationally fragmented, ranging from advocates of secular democracy to proponents of a restored constitutional monarchy.

Yet none appear poised to present a unified, credible alternative to the current regime.

A region in flux, with no clear endgame

It is still too early to assess the full implications of Friday’s escalation. Unlike the previous cycles of limited skirmishes–such as last year’s exchange of fire between Israel and Iran–this latest round has produced a level of destruction and strategic disruption not seen in recent memory.

In earlier incidents, there was little evidence of popular momentum within Iran toward regime change. Whether this time proves different remains uncertain.

The more immediate question is what Iran now intends to do. Its retaliatory strikes have been forceful, but Tehran finds itself boxed in.

On one hand, it may feel compelled to continue its promised response against Israel, both to maintain domestic legitimacy and to demonstrate strength to its regional allies. Yet further escalation risks inviting a broader Israeli campaign and potentially provoking a direct response from the United States.

And therein lies the strategic dilemma. Iran has, in the past, threatened U.S. bases and diplomatic sites across the Middle East. But following through on such threats would cross a red line that could draw Washington into the conflict–a scenario Iran’s leadership almost certainly wishes to avoid.

Conversely, a return to negotiations with the U.S., as some voices in the West have urged, would be politically perilous for Tehran. Re-entering talks, particularly under pressure, could be seen domestically as a concession of defeat, undermining hardliners at a time when they seek to project resolve.

None of the available options are clean or cost-free. For Israel, the strikes may have delivered tactical victories but risk deeper entanglement in a long-term confrontation. For Iran, each step forward narrows the space for diplomatic retreat.

As in much of South Asia’s own experience with protracted rivalries and entrenched power structures, the path out of escalation often remains obscured until long after the dust has settled.

Until then, both sides–and their global interlocutors–are navigating in a haze of uncertainty, where intentions are hard to read and outcomes harder still to shape.

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Md Sazzad Amin is the chief Geo-political columnist of Bangla Outlook