There’s a term for countries whose roar is far more fearsome than their bite: paper tiger. This refers to a nation that appears menacing from a distance but crumbles under pressure once tested.
Ironically, Chairman Mao coined the phrase in the 1950s to describe the United States. A more fitting application, though, might be Iran.
For over three decades, the Islamic Republic has carefully cultivated the image of a fierce regional power with unstoppable momentum – its nuclear facilities buried deep beneath mountains, its missiles paraded through Tehran to project menace, and its rhetoric thick with revolutionary fire and inevitability.
But during the 12-day war in June, that carefully constructed image took a major hit.
Most debate since has focused on a technical question: How far was Iran’s nuclear program set back: six months, two years, or more? Yet that misses a more fundamental point. The strikes exposed an illusion. Iran was revealed not as a juggernaut, not as an unstoppable force, but as a well-marketed paper tiger.
And that unmasking could carry far-reaching consequences, both regionally and, perhaps even more significantly, within Iran itself.
The shift on nuclear talks is a great sign of Iranian weakness
One immediate ramification, for example, is US President Donald Trump saying he is in no great rush to resume nuclear talks, a clear indication he believes Tehran has been thoroughly defanged.
Speaking to reporters on Tuesday, Trump said: “They [the Iranians] would like to talk... I am in no rush… because we obliterated their site. They would have to start all over. In fact, it’s obliterated to the point where it is not usable anymore. They would have to pick a different mountain.”
Trump didn’t name the mountain, but everyone knows he meant Fordow, the uranium enrichment facility long believed invulnerable, buried deep enough to render airstrike attempts futile. But Fordow turned out to be vulnerable, very much so.
The US president’s statement is telling not just for what it says about Iran’s capabilities, but for what it reveals about leverage.
In his worldview, you rush into negotiations if the other side poses a credible threat. However, Tehran’s threats have now been exposed as hollow, and as a result, its negotiating position has been weakened. You move quickly when you think the other side is strong. You can take your time when you know they can’t really hurt you, when it is clear they need the negotiations more than you do.
Last month’s US and Israeli strikes didn’t just kill nuclear scientists or damage facilities at Fordow, Natanz, and Isfahan; they dismantled the edifice of mystique Iran had carefully cultivated.
Fordow was not just a physical asset; it was a strategic symbol. For years, when Western diplomats sat with Iranian negotiators in Vienna, Doha, or Geneva, the image of Fordow as an impregnable citadel of uranium enrichment hung over the talks, allowing Tehran to bluff, pressure, and stall.
Now, that psychological advantage is gone. In its place sits a far more sobering reality for the regime: exposure.
During those 12 days in June, Iran’s illusion of invincibility crumbled. Not only was its nuclear infrastructure devastated, but so too was its conventional deterrence. Its ballistic missile stockpiles and launchpads were hit, causing damage that will take time to rebuild, assuming that the US and Israel will just sit back and allow it to do so.
Suddenly, the Islamic Republic is damaged not just militarily but also exposed as far less capable than it wanted the world to believe.
That shift is already reshaping diplomacy. On Wednesday, the UK, France, and Germany agreed on an end-of-August deadline to conclude a new nuclear deal. Should Tehran miss the window, it faces a wave of crippling sanctions – the so-called “snapback sanctions" – with even less leverage to resist.
Iran’s threats to withdraw from the Non-Proliferation Treaty if sanctions are reimposed carry little clout after the recent military setbacks.
In the past, this dynamic would have put Gulf capitals on edge, led to a spike in oil prices, and put US bases in Iraq on high alert for rocket attacks.
Today? Markets are calm. The US is unfazed. And Israel is taking everything in stride.
This is not complacency. It’s confidence that comes when a long-feared adversary is revealed to be more bluster than bite.
For years, critics warned that strikes on Iran’s nuclear sites might ignite a regional war or merely delay Iran’s inevitable march to a nuclear weapon.
But June’s strikes didn’t start a war. They didn’t unleash the Islamic Revolutionary Guards Corps in unexpected ways. They simply worked and exposed Iran as a fragile power that has squandered its resources on a proxy strategy and nuclear program that have gone up in smoke.
For Israel, the attacks and their aftermath represent a strategic success, even if in the weeks since they have been overshadowed by the ongoing hostage crisis. If 2023 will be remembered for October 7, and 2024 for the decimation of Hezbollah, 2025 will likely go down as the year in which the Iranian elephant was deflated.
With Syria now coming back into focus because of the attacks on the Druze there, at least Iran, once the ultimate nightmare scenario, now looks less ominous.
The illusion of Iranian invincibility, its projected image of regional untouchability, has been shattered.
So, too, has its ability to project strength internally. The regime is rattled. Its economy is in freefall. And this military embarrassment may widen the existing cracks between the ruling clerics and the population.
Regime change remains distant, but moments like these matter. In tightly controlled autocracies, perception is power, and Iran’s perception of strength has taken a serious hit. The domestic impact of this will likely ripple through in the coming months.
That said, there is a cautionary lesson here for Jerusalem. Iran’s exposure is a strategic success, but it is still no reason for hubris or euphoria. A wounded regime is often a more dangerous one.
Iran may still lash out through proxies or sleeper terror cells abroad, seeking to reassert deterrence by sowing chaos. But even here, the cost-benefit equation has changed for Iran, and even these moves now carry heightened risks of retaliation. If in the past Israel was reluctant – even afraid – to hit the head of the octopus, opting instead only to fight its tentacles, it is reluctant no more.
The head of the octopus has been exposed, and it is far less formidable than previously feared. That doesn’t mean Iran is harmless. Even a paper tiger, when cornered, can lash out in unpredictable ways.
But the illusion has been pierced. And once a meticulously cultivated image unravels, it is hard to stitch it back together. The debate over how much of Iran’s nuclear program was destroyed will continue. But what is undeniable is that the perception – in the region and within Iran itself – of the Islamic Republic’s power has shifted dramatically.
And in this part of the world, perception matters… a lot.