
For nearly two decades, Iran’s grand regional project—the so-called “Axis of Resistance”—stood as a symbol of defiance against Western and Israeli influence in the Middle East. But today, after a string of precision strikes by Israel and the United States, that once-formidable network of proxy forces appears fractured, weakened, and increasingly obsolete. The question isn’t whether the axis is damaged—it is—but whether it’s quietly mutating into something even harder to trace and contain.
The Islamic Republic spent years projecting power across the region by backing a patchwork of armed movements: Hezbollah in Lebanon, the Houthis in Yemen, Shia militias in Iraq, Palestinian factions in Gaza. This constellation gave Tehran leverage from the Mediterranean to the Red Sea, shaping a shadow battlefield against Washington and Jerusalem. But since the Gaza war of late 2023—and especially after the Iran-Israel missile exchange in spring 2024—that architecture has begun to collapse under its own contradictions.
Proxy Fatigue and Strategic Overreach
When Israel launched a sweeping military operation on June 13, 2025, aimed at crippling Iran’s nuclear and missile capabilities, Tehran’s regional allies responded with inertia. The Houthis fired a few missiles, Hezbollah lobbed artillery across the border, and Iraqi militias issued stern statements—nothing resembling a coordinated counteroffensive. The much-vaunted “Axis” looked less like a united front and more like a disjointed crowd of reluctant bystanders.
This moment exposed the Achilles’ heel of Iran’s proxy doctrine: the absence of centralized command and the divergent agendas of its partners. When Tehran itself is under direct fire, its proxies don’t rush to its defense—they retreat into political caution. What’s marketed as a collective defense mechanism is, in reality, a network of actors driven by local interests, not Iranian strategy.
The irony is stark. The deeper Iran is drawn into open conflict, the more its allies want to stay out of it. Even Hezbollah—Tehran’s crown jewel—opted for limited engagement, wary of inviting a full-scale Israeli invasion of Lebanon. In Iraq and Yemen, the story is the same: not one faction seemed willing to “die for Tehran.”
This reluctance has gutted the Axis not just militarily, but ideologically. It undercuts Iran’s image as a regional heavyweight and forces the regime into an unfamiliar posture: defense over expansion. For the first time in decades, Tehran is no longer talking about exporting revolution—it’s talking about regime survival.
The Post-Soleimani Unraveling
The seeds of this unraveling were sown in January 2020, when the U.S. assassinated Qassem Soleimani, the architect of Iran’s proxy empire. His successors have struggled to replicate his charisma, command authority, and ability to synchronize a diverse and often unruly network. What followed was fragmentation. Iraqi factions like Badr and Kata’ib Hezbollah increasingly act on their own initiative, responding to local power dynamics rather than marching to Tehran’s orders.
Even Syria, long considered an Iranian ally, is hedging its bets—playing Moscow, Tehran, and the Gulf monarchies off each other. Bashar al-Assad has little appetite for another war that could reignite chaos inside his already battered country. In Yemen, the Houthis are now openly negotiating with Saudi Arabia and the UAE. The Red Sea, despite sporadic skirmishes, remains under tight international control, neutralizing one of Iran’s key pressure points against Israel.
What’s emerging is a sobering picture: the old doctrine of regional expansion through proxy warfare is no longer viable. Iran’s leadership, under Ayatollah Khamenei, hasn’t collapsed—but it’s circling the wagons. Domestically, it’s cracking down harder, jailing dissenters and tightening control. Abroad, it’s losing altitude.
From Central Command to Confederation
Iran’s proxies haven’t cut ties with the Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps (IRGC)—at least not yet—but a clear drift is underway. Hamas is looking more to Qatar and Turkey. The Houthis are recalibrating, weighing their options with Gulf states. The centralized hub-and-spoke model of resistance built by Soleimani is dissolving into a loose confederation, one that Tehran can no longer fully control.
The recent Israeli and American strikes were not just tactical—they were psychological. They proved the Axis can harass but not shield; it can threaten, but not deter. In the new Middle East, Iran’s proxy empire is a sandcastle exposed to the tide.
In retrospect, the entire enterprise may have been more illusion than strategy. After the U.S. toppled Saddam Hussein in 2003, Iran saw an opening and filled the vacuum with loyalist militias and radical outfits. But 2025 has shown just how brittle that patchwork really is.
Baghdad: The Center of Gravity—and the Crisis
Take Iraq, where the Popular Mobilization Forces (PMF)—a conglomerate of over 40 militias—once symbolized Tehran’s triumph. Initially created in 2014 to combat ISIS, the PMF quickly evolved into a quasi-official military apparatus, complete with government funding and political clout. But over time, many of these groups shifted from anti-terrorism to power brokering, both domestically and across borders.
For Baghdad’s post-ISIS governments, the PMF has become a double-edged sword: on one side, beholden to Iran; on the other, under relentless pressure from the U.S. and Gulf allies to rein in Iranian influence. Navigating these opposing forces has become almost impossible, especially as key militia leaders are eliminated and public trust erodes.
With proxy credibility waning in Syria and Lebanon, Iraq now sits at the epicenter of the struggle for regional influence. The battleground isn’t just military—it’s political, ideological, and generational. Iran’s model, once hailed as a masterclass in asymmetric power projection, now looks like a relic.
What comes next is unclear. But one thing is certain: the “Axis of Resistance” is no longer a rising force—it’s a legacy structure in decay, limping through a new Middle East it can no longer shape.
The End of the Proxy Era: Iran’s Axis of Resistance Is Falling Apart
The Houthi movement, Ansar Allah, is often counted among Iran’s closest allies. But that label is increasingly misleading. Yes, the group gained significant battlefield momentum thanks to access to Iranian missile tech, drones, and military advisers. But the Houthis aren’t Tehran’s puppets—they’ve built their own revolutionary regime atop the ruins of Yemen’s former state, and they’re playing their own long game.
Their attacks on Israeli-linked vessels and efforts to choke off Red Sea shipping routes may look like solidarity with Iran. In reality, they’re bargaining chips—moves designed to squeeze better terms out of Saudi Arabia and the UAE. And as Yemen peace talks inch forward, the Houthis are quietly stepping back from the ideological orbit of Tehran’s “Axis of Resistance.”
Leadership Decapitation and Strategic Chaos
The sudden deaths of Ismail Haniyeh and Hassan Nasrallah in Israeli airstrikes threw Iran’s proxy strategy in Gaza and Lebanon into chaos. Haniyeh had been a unifying force for Hamas, while Nasrallah—Hezbollah’s iron-fisted Secretary General—had led the group for nearly 30 years. Their assassinations didn’t just eliminate key figures; they unmoored entire organizations.
Israel’s military campaign in southern Lebanon in 2025 marked a turning point. It wasn’t just another round of tit-for-tat skirmishes—it was a sophisticated offensive that exposed the fragility of Hezbollah’s rear bases and supply chains. In a first since 2006, Israeli forces moved across the border, launching hybrid operations that included targeted assassinations, infrastructure sabotage, and the disruption of Hezbollah’s black-market revenue streams.
Damascus Falls—and With It, the Shia Crescent
But the heaviest blow to Tehran came from Syria. After years of propping up Bashar al-Assad with military advisers and Hezbollah fighters, Iran watched its most critical regional partner collapse. Assad’s exit shattered what Tehran once called the “Shia Crescent”—a strategic land corridor linking Iran to the Mediterranean via Iraq, Syria, and Lebanon.
The new Syrian leadership, backed by a coalition of international actors, has made clear its intent to restore full sovereignty. That means driving out all non-state militias, including Iran’s Revolutionary Guard proxies. For Tehran, it’s not just a diplomatic failure—it’s the loss of a vital logistical artery for arming Hezbollah and projecting influence into the Levant.
A New Order in Beirut
Lebanon is also undergoing a transformation. Backed by Washington and Riyadh, a new political leadership in Beirut has pledged to dismantle Hezbollah’s military wing and bring all armed forces under central command. The plan is ambitious, and civil war risks remain. But the pressure is relentless. Targeted financial sanctions, diplomatic isolation, and the slow suffocation of Hezbollah’s parallel economy are biting hard—arguably harder than airstrikes.
Washington isn’t mincing words: disband the “state within a state,” or lose international support. The Biden-Trump transition didn’t change that fundamental message. And while Tehran scrambles to keep Hezbollah afloat, the U.S. is choking off its lifelines—blocking cash smuggling routes, sanctioning intermediaries, and cutting off access to financial networks once used to funnel IRGC funds to Beirut.
The End of Iran’s Proxy Empire
All signs point to a single conclusion: the Axis of Resistance is in terminal decline. Not extinction, but irreversible transformation. Political factions that once took orders from Tehran now demand autonomy. Armed groups are still standing—but they’ve lost initiative, relevance, and resources. Sanctions, counterterrorism coordination, and border surveillance have shattered Iran’s old smuggling and funding schemes.
Iran simply can’t keep up. With the loss of key figures, the collapse of Syria, a diminished Hezbollah, and Iraq on the brink of internal crisis, the once-vaunted proxy empire is becoming a historical relic.
The final nail came in April 2025, when Iran struck a U.S. base in Qatar—not through proxies, but directly, and with advance notice to Doha. It was a signal, a tacit admission: Tehran no longer trusts its shadow army to deliver. The cost of asymmetrical warfare has grown too high. Its weaknesses, too exposed. And above all, its “allies” are increasingly unwilling to fight Iran’s battles.
Hezbollah is exhausted. Iraq’s militias are tangled in domestic power struggles. Even Hamas, struggling to hold onto the West Bank, has little appetite for another proxy war. As Iraq prepares for national elections, even the Popular Mobilization Forces—once a formal arm of Tehran’s power in Baghdad—are paralyzed.
Baghdad, keen to avoid being drawn into a regional war, is making clear: Iraqi soil will not be a launchpad for attacks on Israel. Backing Iran in this moment isn’t just risky—it’s political suicide. Tehran, for its part, isn’t pressing the issue. It has more urgent priorities now—starting with its own survival.
The proxy era may not be entirely over. But the myth of a unified, ideologically driven, Tehran-led resistance is. What remains is a weakened, fractured network—a ghost of the empire it once aspired to be.
Money, Networks, and Shadows: Why Iran’s Proxy Machine Is Down—but Far from Dead
Despite its recent setbacks, Iran’s Axis of Resistance hasn’t vanished—it’s simply gone underground. In Tel Aviv, few believe Tehran has abandoned the game. Instead, Israeli intelligence sees a shift in tactics: less overt warfare, more covert influence. Mossad claims new Iranian operatives are discovered inside Israel almost weekly. The battlefield isn’t a front line anymore—it’s a chessboard. Some moves are digital. Others are buried beneath sand and concrete.
Iran may have lost control over many of its proxies, but it's still playing for influence with the tools it has left: cash, ideology, and espionage.
The Houthis: Still Firing, Still Bargaining
Among Iran’s once-loyal proxies, the Houthis remain the only group actively fighting. They’ve launched missiles at Israel and disrupted shipping in the Red Sea—a region through which 12% of global trade flows. But even this aggression comes with conditions. Houthi leaders have hinted they’ll cease hostilities if the war in Gaza stops. Few take that at face value. All it takes is a leak, an assassination, or a single miscalculation—and the Red Sea could be back on fire.
The UN and Security Council are watching, but their response has been tepid. No viable solution is in sight. The Houthi threat remains an open wound—infected, untreated, and volatile.
Hamas: Bruised but Not Broken
In Gaza, the war is technically still ongoing. While diplomatic efforts have intensified, a lasting ceasefire remains elusive. Hamas is losing territory, but not loyalty. Even if it’s eventually pushed out of Gaza, it still commands deep support in the West Bank, East Jerusalem, and across diaspora networks.
The group is far from bankrupt. Its financial lifelines stretch across the Islamic world—from Istanbul to Kuala Lumpur—through a web of religious charities, shell organizations, and foreign donors. For now, Hamas is in survival mode. But its infrastructure, both physical and ideological, remains largely intact.
Backchannel Diplomacy—and a New Nuclear Gamble
Meanwhile, Tehran and Washington are inching toward a new round of nuclear negotiations. A deal isn’t guaranteed, but there’s momentum. In Washington, there’s growing awareness that a cornered, economically strangled Iran could be more dangerous than one cautiously engaged. In Tehran, any deal is seen as a tactical pause—not a pivot.
If sanctions are lifted, even partially, Iran could begin reassembling parts of its shattered influence network. Not all of it. But enough. Because in the Middle East, strategic patience is a well-honed art. Wait. Rebuild. Stockpile. Strike again.
Even if Iran’s grip has loosened, the idea of resistance is far from dead. Proxies don’t always die when a patron disappears. Sometimes, they just find a new sponsor.
Hamas has longstanding ties with Turkey and Qatar. The Houthis pursue their own path. Iraqi militias have splintered into factions with domestic agendas. Islamic militant networks in the Middle East aren’t a pyramid—they’re a swarm. Multinodal, interchangeable, and often self-replicating. If another state steps up with cash and ideological alignment, the machine can restart.
But Iran’s most durable asset isn’t drones or missiles. It’s resentment. As long as Israel and the United States exist as symbols of oppression in militant propaganda, these networks will have fuel. ISIS and al-Qaeda proved it: you don’t need a country to start a war. You just need an idea.
The Axis of Resistance is no longer a coherent coalition. It’s a hive. Disjointed, weakened, but still dangerous. Tehran has stepped back—but it hasn’t surrendered. The regime will negotiate, deceive, and stall. It will buy time. And when the next opportunity emerges, it will return—not as a proxy empire, but as a surgical, cunning operator that strikes from the shadows.
There are no neat endings in the Middle East. Only ceasefires, interludes, and the next wave of blood.