A wounded, desperate man with nowhere else to turn
In the opening phase of a war that reshaped the Middle East, the United States and Israel pursued not merely the destruction of Iran's military capabilities but the replacement of its government — selecting as their instrument a man once synonymous with anti-Western defiance. Mahmoud Ahmadinejad, former Iranian president and longtime adversary of both nations, was wounded when Israeli warplanes struck his Tehran home in what officials described as an attempt to free him from house arrest and position him as a compliant successor. The plan — envisioning Kurdish uprisings, infrastructure collapse, and political implosion — largely failed, leaving Iran's government standing and Ahmadinejad himself vanished from public view, a ghost at the center of a gambit the world was never meant to know about.
- The United States and Israel secretly identified Ahmadinejad — a man who once called for Israel's erasure — as their preferred puppet to replace Iran's clerical regime, revealing the profound contradictions at the heart of the war's hidden agenda.
- Israeli warplanes bombed Ahmadinejad's home on the first day of fighting, wounding him in what was described as a 'prison break operation,' but the strike appears to have shattered his confidence in the plan rather than liberated him.
- The broader strategy — phased airstrikes, Kurdish mobilization, electrical grid destruction, and influence campaigns — was designed to manufacture the collapse of the Iranian state and install an 'alternative government,' all while Trump publicly insisted the war's goals were purely military.
- The plan unraveled: Iran's government survived, the Kurdish uprising never materialized, infrastructure damage fell short of triggering political collapse, and Ahmadinejad has not been seen since the strike on his home.
- Mossad chief David Barnea reportedly still believes the operation could succeed if fully authorized, even as the strategy's failure exposed how badly planners misjudged Iran's resilience and their own capacity to impose a new order from the outside.
When Donald Trump remarked publicly that it would be better if someone from inside Iran took power, he was offering a glimpse of something far more deliberate than an offhand opinion. Behind the scenes, the United States and Israel had already chosen their candidate: Mahmoud Ahmadinejad, Iran's president from 2005 to 2013, then confined to house arrest in his Tehran neighborhood. On the first day of the war, Israeli warplanes struck his home — not to kill him, but to free him. He survived, wounded, and has not been seen publicly since.
The selection of Ahmadinejad was, by any measure, a startling one. He had built his international reputation on hostility toward Israel and the United States, on championing Iran's nuclear ambitions, and on suppressing dissent at home. But in his later years he had turned against Iran's ruling clerics, accusing them of corruption — and they had barred him from three consecutive presidential elections. His recent travels to Guatemala, Hungary, and his 2019 praise of Trump as a pragmatic dealmaker had apparently made him seem, to some planners, like a workable instrument.
The war was conceived in phases. American and Israeli airstrikes would eliminate Iran's top leadership. Kurdish forces would be mobilized to deepen instability. Infrastructure — especially the electrical grid — would be degraded until the government buckled under its own weight, creating space for what Israeli planners called an 'alternative government.' Trump drew explicit inspiration from Venezuela, where Maduro's fall had produced a cooperative successor. Officials spoke of identifying pragmatists within Iran's system who might collaborate with Washington.
Almost none of it unfolded as planned. Iran's government endured. The Kurdish mobilization did not materialize. The infrastructure damage, though real, did not produce the political collapse the strategy required. The operation became a subject of mockery in the West, parodied on American television. Yet Mossad chief David Barnea reportedly told colleagues he still believed the plan — built on decades of intelligence work inside Iran — retained a genuine chance of success if fully authorized. Ahmadinejad, meanwhile, remains missing from the story he was meant to anchor: wounded, disappeared, the face of a regime-change gambit that the war's architects had hoped the world would never need to explain.
In the opening weeks of a war that killed Iran's supreme leader and senior officials, President Donald Trump made a casual but revealing comment: it would be better if someone from inside Iran took control of the country. What he did not say publicly was that the United States and Israel had already identified a candidate—and had tried to free him from house arrest by bombing his home.
Mahmoud Ahmadinejad, Iran's president from 2005 to 2013, was wounded on the first day of fighting when Israeli warplanes struck his residence in Tehran. According to American officials and associates of Ahmadinejad, the operation was designed to liberate him from the confinement imposed by Iran's government. He survived the attack, but the narrow escape appears to have shaken his faith in the plan. He has not been seen in public since, and his current location and condition remain unknown.
The choice of Ahmadinejad as a potential puppet leader was, by any measure, an extraordinary one. During his presidency, he became infamous in the West for calling to "wipe Israel off the map." He was a fierce advocate for Iran's nuclear program, a relentless critic of the United States, and known for crushing internal dissent with an iron hand. Yet in recent years, he had grown into conflict with Iran's ruling clerics, accusing them of corruption and disloyalty. The regime had barred him from running in three successive presidential elections—2017, 2021, and 2024—and confined him increasingly to his home in the Narmak neighborhood of eastern Tehran. How American and Israeli planners came to see him as a viable alternative leader remains unclear.
The broader strategy was more ambitious than a single figure. According to two Israeli defense officials familiar with operational planning, the war was designed to unfold in phases. The first would involve American and Israeli airstrikes and the assassination of Iran's top leaders. The second would combine Israeli influence campaigns with Kurdish mobilization to destabilize the Iranian government and create the impression that the regime was losing control. In a third phase, the government would collapse under political pressure and infrastructure damage—particularly to the electrical grid—allowing what Israeli planners called an "alternative government" to take root. Trump and his cabinet members publicly insisted the war's aims were strictly military: destroying Iran's nuclear, missile, and conventional capabilities. The regime-change dimension remained largely hidden.
Trump appeared to be drawing inspiration from recent events in Venezuela. He had celebrated the capture of Nicolás Maduro and the willingness of his interim successor to cooperate with the White House—a model he seemed to believe could be replicated elsewhere. American officials spoke in the war's early days of plans developed with Israel to identify a pragmatist who could take command. They insisted there was intelligence suggesting some members of Iran's regime would be willing to collaborate with the United States, even if these figures could not be described as moderates.
Ahmadinejad's Western connections, though murky, may have made him seem plausible. In a 2019 interview with the New York Times, he praised Trump as a man of action and a businessman capable of calculating costs and benefits. He suggested Iran and the United States could move past their hostility if both sides performed a similar calculation. People close to him had been accused of ties to Western intelligence agencies. His former chief of staff, Esfandiar Rahim Mashai, was tried in 2018 on suspicion of links to British and Israeli spy services. In recent years, Ahmadinejad had traveled to Guatemala in 2023 and to Hungary in 2024 and 2025—both countries with close ties to Israel. In Hungary, he spoke at a university connected to Prime Minister Viktor Orbán, who maintains a close relationship with Benjamin Netanyahu. He returned from Budapest just days before Israel began its assault on Iran in June.
When the war erupted, Ahmadinejad maintained a low profile, posting only occasional statements on social media. His relative silence about a conflict with a nation he had long considered Iran's chief enemy was noted by observers on Iranian social networks. An article in The Atlantic in March, citing anonymous associates of Ahmadinejad, described the strike on his home as "in effect, a prison break operation." In the West, the notion of Ahmadinejad as a regime-change instrument became a subject of ridicule, even parodied on Saturday Night Live.
Most of the Israeli plan did not materialize as conceived. The Iranian government survived the initial months of war. The Kurdish mobilization did not materialize as hoped. The infrastructure damage, while significant, did not trigger the political collapse planners had anticipated. The strategy appears to have underestimated Iran's resilience and overestimated the ability of the United States and Israel to impose their will. Yet even as the failure became apparent, some Israeli officials clung to their vision. David Barnea, chief of the Mossad, told colleagues in several meetings that he still believed the agency's plan—built on decades of intelligence gathering and operations inside Iran—would have a very good chance of success if given the green light to proceed. For now, Ahmadinejad remains a ghost in the story: wounded, disappeared, his role in a failed gambit known only to those who conceived it.
Citas Notables
Trump is a man of action. He is a businessman and therefore capable of calculating costs and benefits and making a decision.— Mahmoud Ahmadinejad, in 2019 New York Times interview
It would be better if someone from inside Iran took control of the country.— President Donald Trump, public comment in early weeks of war
La Conversación del Hearth Otra perspectiva de la historia
Why would the United States and Israel think Ahmadinejad could work as a leader they could control? He spent years calling for Israel's destruction.
That's the puzzle at the heart of this. He wasn't chosen because he was moderate or pro-Western. He was chosen because he was isolated, weakened, and—crucially—had shown signs of being willing to talk to Trump. The regime had already pushed him to the margins. They may have thought a wounded, desperate man with nowhere else to turn would be more malleable than a true believer.
The article mentions he praised Trump in 2019. Did he know what was coming?
That's unknowable. But the timing is suggestive. He traveled to Hungary just before the war began, spoke at events connected to Orbán, who is close to Netanyahu. Whether he was being cultivated or simply moving in circles where such cultivation was possible—we don't know. His silence once the war started is telling either way.
The plan had three phases. What went wrong?
The first phase worked—they killed the supreme leader, launched the airstrikes. But the second and third phases required things that didn't happen: Kurdish forces didn't rise up as expected, the political instability didn't cascade into collapse, the infrastructure damage didn't break the government's will. They seem to have badly underestimated how much institutional resilience Iran had built, and overestimated their own ability to orchestrate events on the ground.
And Ahmadinejad himself?
He was wounded in the strike meant to free him. Survived it. Then disappeared. His associates told The Atlantic it was like a prison break, but something about it clearly frightened him. Maybe he realized what he'd been drawn into. Maybe he understood the plan was failing. Either way, he vanished into silence.
Does anyone know where he is now?
No. That's the final irony. The man they tried to install as a puppet leader is now as much a prisoner as he was before—just hidden from view entirely. His whereabouts are unknown. His health is unknown. He's become a footnote to a failed operation.