They overestimated opposition to the regime and their own ability to reshape it
In the fog of an air campaign over Tehran, American and Israeli planners reportedly attempted something older than modern warfare: the installation of a chosen successor. By targeting a security compound near the home of former Iranian president Mahmoud Ahmadinejad — once a fierce antagonist of Israel, now a regime critic under house arrest — they sought to engineer a transition of power through precision strikes. The plan unraveled quickly, undone by Ahmadinejad's own hesitation and the stubborn complexity of a state that would not simply reorganize itself around a foreign-backed figurehead. What remains is less a story of a failed operation than a portrait of a deeper miscalculation about the nature of power, loyalty, and the limits of force.
- Israel allegedly struck a security outpost beside Ahmadinejad's Tehran home on February 28, killing his bodyguards and leaving him with minor injuries — a strike precise enough to suggest intent, chaotic enough to suggest the plan was never truly coordinated with him.
- The scheme rested on a fragile premise: that Ahmadinejad's transformation from anti-Israel firebrand to populist regime critic had made him a viable, installable alternative to Khamenei's government.
- The operation collapsed almost immediately — Ahmadinejad grew uneasy, Iranian officials denied the entire premise, and observers questioned whether the story was intelligence fact or planted disinformation.
- The Venezuela model haunted the planning: Trump wanted a cooperative deputy left standing after the leadership was removed, but Ahmadinejad had no foothold in the Revolutionary Guards or clerical establishment to make such an arrangement workable.
- The broader conflict has hardened into economic attrition — a US counter-blockade on Iranian ports, Iran's stranglehold on the Strait of Hormuz, rising gas prices at home, and Trump publicly weighing whether to resume airstrikes while insisting he is in no hurry.
- The Revolutionary Guard has warned that renewed American strikes will expand the conflict beyond the Middle East, and with no negotiating path in sight, the Ahmadinejad gambit has quietly become a symbol of how badly both Washington and Jerusalem misjudged their leverage.
As airstrikes fell on Tehran in late February, a striking claim surfaced from American intelligence circles: Israel had deliberately bombed a security compound near Mahmoud Ahmadinejad's home in Narmak, a northeastern district of the city, in an attempt to free him from house arrest and position him as Iran's next leader. The New York Times reported the operation as part of a broader regime-change scheme. It collapsed almost at once. Ahmadinejad grew uneasy. Iranian officials rejected the premise entirely. Most observers dismissed the episode as implausible, or suspected it was disinformation seeded by Ahmadinejad's allies or Israeli intelligence.
The former president's arc made him, in theory, an appealing asset for such a plan. He had served as president from 2005 to 2013, spending much of that time as one of Israel's most incendiary adversaries. But after a bitter rupture with Supreme Leader Khamenei in 2011, he reinvented himself as a critic of the regime — a voice for ordinary Iranians, repeatedly barred from running for office, arrested in 2018, and reduced to a figure of steady political marginalization. To planners in Washington and Jerusalem, this transformation may have suggested a man who could command popular sympathy while remaining dependent on foreign support.
The February 28 strike confirmed the targeting: satellite imagery showed the hit on the compound adjacent to his residence. Ahmadinejad survived with minor injuries. His bodyguards did not. Yet the outcome — his discomfort with the operation — suggested either that he had never been consulted, or that the reality of war had changed his calculus.
The model animating the plan was Venezuela, where Trump had sought to remove Maduro while leaving the state intact around a cooperative deputy. But Ahmadinejad had no natural base within the Revolutionary Guards or the clerical establishment. Installing him would have required dismantling and rebuilding the entire system — a far more ambitious undertaking than the architects appeared to have considered.
The wider conflict has since settled into grinding attrition. Iran's blockade of the Strait of Hormuz tightens its grip on global oil flows; the United States has imposed a counter-blockade on Iranian ports. Trump, facing domestic anger over fuel prices and economic disruption, has delayed strikes under pressure from Gulf leaders but kept the option open. Iran refuses to negotiate on uranium enrichment and demands sanctions relief before reopening the waterway. The Revolutionary Guard has warned that any resumed American strikes will widen the conflict beyond the region. The Ahmadinejad gambit, whatever its original ambition, has become a footnote to something larger — a moment when both Washington and Jerusalem overestimated their leverage and underestimated the resilience of the state they sought to reshape.
In late February, as airstrikes began raining down on Tehran, a curious claim emerged from American intelligence circles: Israel had deliberately targeted a security compound near the home of Mahmoud Ahmadinejad, the former Iranian president, in an effort to spring him from house arrest. The operation, according to reporting by the New York Times, was part of a larger scheme to position Ahmadinejad as a replacement leader—a populist figure who might prove more pliable than the current regime. The plan, however, collapsed almost immediately. Ahmadinejad grew uneasy about the operation. Iranian officials disputed the entire premise. And most observers dismissed the whole affair as either implausible or a piece of disinformation planted by Ahmadinejad's supporters or Israeli intelligence itself.
Yet the episode reveals something consequential about the thinking behind the military campaign: the United States and Israel appear to have fundamentally miscalculated both the depth of opposition to Iran's government and their own capacity to reshape it through force. Ahmadinejad, who served as president from 2005 to 2013, had once been a fierce antagonist of Israel, delivering incendiary speeches and pursuing policies hostile to the Jewish state. But after a bitter falling out with Supreme Leader Ali Khamenei in 2011, he reinvented himself as a critic of the regime itself, positioning himself as a champion of ordinary Iranians left behind by the government's priorities. This transformation made him, in theory, a potential asset for regime-change architects in Washington and Jerusalem.
On February 28, Israeli forces struck a security outpost adjacent to Ahmadinejad's residence in Narmak, a northeastern district of Tehran. Satellite imagery confirmed the hit. Iranian media initially reported that Ahmadinejad himself had been killed in the strike, but he survived with minor injuries. His bodyguards were not as fortunate; several were killed in the attack. The targeting was precise enough to suggest intention, yet the outcome—Ahmadinejad's growing discomfort with the operation—suggested the plan had not been coordinated with him in advance, or that he had second thoughts once the reality of warfare became apparent.
Ahmadinejad's political trajectory since his presidency ended has been one of steady marginalization. After criticizing the government in 2018, he was arrested. He has been barred from running for president multiple times, most recently in 2024. His authority within Iran's political structure has withered. Yet his repositioning as a populist critic of the regime—someone who speaks for the poor and dispossessed—gave him a certain appeal to those seeking an alternative to the current order. For American and Israeli planners, he may have seemed like a figure who could command some popular support while remaining dependent on foreign backing.
The comparison that haunted the operation was Venezuela. Donald Trump had made clear at the outset of the Iranian campaign that he wanted to replicate the model used against Nicolás Maduro: capture or remove the leader, but leave the state apparatus intact, with a cooperative deputy in place. In Venezuela, Delcy Rodriguez, Maduro's vice president, has largely cooperated with Washington. But Ahmadinejad's fractious relationship with Iran's power structure made such an arrangement far less feasible. He had no natural constituency within the Revolutionary Guards or the clerical establishment. Installing him would have required not just removing the current leadership but rebuilding the entire system around him—a far more ambitious undertaking than the architects of the operation appeared to have contemplated.
Meanwhile, the broader conflict has settled into a grinding stalemate. Trump, facing domestic anger over rising gas prices and the economic disruption caused by the war, has been seeking an off-ramp. He delayed one round of airstrikes after intervention by Gulf leaders, but has continued to hold open the possibility of renewed strikes. In a Wednesday statement that captured his approach, he said he wanted to see the Strait of Hormuz opened—a key chokepoint for global oil shipments—but insisted he was in no hurry. "Ideally," he said, "I would like to see a few people killed as opposed to a lot." Iran, for its part, believes its blockade of the strait is tightening its stranglehold on Western economies. It refuses to meet Washington's demands on uranium enrichment and instead wants sanctions lifted in exchange for reopening the waterway.
The Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps has warned that any resumption of American attacks will trigger a widening of the conflict beyond the Middle East. The United States has imposed a counter-blockade on Iranian ports, attempting to choke off oil shipments that flow primarily to China. Both sides appear locked in a contest of economic attrition, with no clear path to negotiation. The Ahmadinejad gambit, whatever its original intent, has become a footnote to a much larger failure of imagination—a moment when Washington and Jerusalem overestimated their leverage and underestimated the resilience of the Iranian state.
Citações Notáveis
Ideally, I would like to see a few people killed as opposed to a lot. We can do it either way.— Donald Trump, on the possibility of resumed airstrikes
Some of the current leaders live detached from the problems and concerns of the people, and do not know anything about the reality of society.— Mahmoud Ahmadinejad, in 2018 criticism of the government
A Conversa do Hearth Outra perspectiva sobre a história
Why would Israel and the US think Ahmadinejad could be a useful replacement? He spent years attacking Israel.
Because he'd fallen out with Khamenei and repositioned himself as a populist critic of the regime. On paper, he looked like someone with some popular appeal who might be dependent on foreign support.
But he was arrested in 2018 for criticizing the government. He wasn't exactly a power broker.
Exactly. He had no real constituency within the military or clerical establishment. Installing him would have required rebuilding the entire system around him, not just swapping out one leader for another.
So the plan assumed more control than they actually had.
Yes. They were thinking about Venezuela—remove the leader, keep the state intact, install a cooperative deputy. But Iran's power structure doesn't work that way. Ahmadinejad had no natural allies in the Revolutionary Guards.
Did Ahmadinejad even want this?
That's the thing—he apparently grew uneasy about the operation once it started. Whether he was ever truly on board is unclear. Iranian officials disputed the whole claim.
What does this tell us about the broader campaign?
That the US and Israel fundamentally miscalculated. They overestimated opposition to the regime and their own ability to reshape it through airstrikes. They're now stuck in a stalemate with no clear exit.