Regime Change: Iran and the Limits of American Power
ProTip: There are no good options for us with Iran -- By Mac Larimer
Every few years, someone in Washington dusts off the well-worn playbook labeled "Regime Change for Dummies, but Not Totally Blow It This Time." The font is bold. The margins are annotated with hubris. The outcomes—predictable.
Now it's Iran's turn, again, in the spotlight. Or more accurately, under the crosshairs of a geopolitical fever dream that never fully goes away.
Let’s get one thing out of the way: no serious observer thinks Iran’s ruling clerics are popular. They’re not. The regime has presided over economic ruin, brutal crackdowns, and the political equivalent of a 1979 time capsule. If tomorrow saw the Ayatollahs replaced by a committee of grandmothers and bazaari, Iranians would rejoice.
But before we cue the regime-change orchestra and break out our color revolution hashtags, let’s ask a less glamorous question: How has that worked out before?
America’s track record on regime change is like betting your mortgage on a rigged carnival game and acting surprised when the carnie pockets your cash. Iraq was supposed to pay us to liberate them with their oil revenue, according to our Defense Department. Instead, it became a morbid seminar in sectarian collapse, corruption, and a decade of Pentagon PowerPoints trying to explain what “clear, hold, and build” meant in Fallujah.
Afghanistan? Let’s not pretend we don’t remember how that ended. After 20 years, billions spent, and NGO empires tasked with "capacity-building," we handed Kabul back to the Taliban in a matter of days—like it was a dry cleaning ticket we forgot we were holding. Worse, village elders always knew they just needed to wait us out.
Somalia, Sudan, Libya, and Syria continue to experience ongoing conflicts despite varying levels of US engagement. Even the “success stories” of the Color Revolutions—Ukraine, Georgia, Kyrgyzstan—should come with massive asterisks and disclaimers. Progress was made, yes. But challenges followed.
Here’s the uncomfortable truth: regime change only kind of works for us when we’re not really trying that hard. That is, when we’re giving the local military a wink and a nod or green-lighting political parties with real backing already.
Think Chile, 1973. Or Egypt, kind of, not really. These were local coups we tolerated more than masterminded. Our role was less "architect of democracy" and more "guy in the back not saying no." In every other case where we tried to play maestro? We got a funeral dirge.
Iran has become the foreign policy version of a cursed lottery ticket. You know it won’t pay out, but every administration seems to think this will be the one to cash in. Why? Because it’s tempting. The regime is brittle. The economy is tanking. The people are restless. It looks ripe.
But it’s a trap.
Iran isn’t just a country with a bad government. It’s a proud, ancient civilization that bristles at outside pressure. Push too hard, and even those who loathe the mullahs will throw their lot in with them out of sheer defiance. The regime survives, in part, because U.S. hostility helps justify its crackdowns. We are the eternal foil. And too often, we play the part to perfection. The CIA’s 1953 involvement still poisons popular attitudes.
So, here’s the paradox: any long-term solution to Iran’s foreign policy menace—its proxy armies, its nuclear brinksmanship, its regional chaos—does require something to change inside Tehran. Maybe not full regime collapse. But something fundamental.
Israel can’t coexist indefinitely with a regime that funds Hezbollah and trains militants to lob rockets from Gaza. The U.S. can’t keep pretending that sanctions alone will change behavior. Something has to give.
But here’s the catch: neither we nor Israel can make that happen. Not directly. Not from 30,000 feet in the air. Not with Tomahawks or with social media content.
The best we can do is nudge, not shove. Undermine softly. Amplify dissent without owning it. Sanction smartly, not performatively. Support exiled voices, not exile reality. Iran’s political future will be decided by Iranians. Our job is to avoid becoming the villain in their internal story.
The bitter reality is that there are no good options for us with Iran. Even finding the “less worse” choice is a huge challenge. Regime change is the foreign policy version of “just one more drink”—a seductive promise that ends with regret, dry mouth, and another fire to put out. Maybe next time, we should leave the bottle on the shelf.