Militarism in Iran: War Machines and Social Crisis

In recent years, the Islamic Republic of Iran has regularly showcased its military power through public displays of weapons, especially missiles. One of the most striking examples is the so-called “missile cities” operated by the Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps (IRGC). These underground military complexes are filled with ballistic and cruise missiles, drones, and air defense systems. The existence and expansion of these missile bases are often promoted in state media as signs of strength, deterrence, and national pride. A senior IRGC commander even claimed that Iran could unveil a new missile city every week for two years without running out, suggesting the presence of over a hundred such bases.

While these displays aim to project strength, they raise deeper and more serious questions about Iran’s priorities as a state. Why does a country facing severe economic problems, social unrest, and high levels of poverty continue to pour enormous resources into its military infrastructure? What do missile cities offer to the average worker, student, or struggling family in Iran? Who benefits from this massive investment in militarism, and at what cost?

The military doctrine of the Islamic Republic has always relied heavily on asymmetrical warfare, especially after the eight-year war with Iraq in the 1980s. This approach, which focuses on unconventional tactics, has justified the buildup of underground missile facilities as part of a defense strategy against more technologically advanced enemies like the United States or Israel. However, in practice, this doctrine has allowed the IRGC to operate as a state within a state — with its own economy, media empire, and foreign policy. The expansion of missile cities is not only a military strategy but also a political statement: that the military-security establishment is at the center of the Islamic Republic’s power structure.

These missile bases are shrouded in secrecy. Their locations are undisclosed. Their costs are hidden. The decision-making behind them is not subject to public scrutiny. Yet the message is clear: Iran’s ruling elite continues to prioritize weapons over welfare, missiles over medicine, and military power over democratic accountability. Behind the shining images of missiles lined up in underground tunnels lies a system built on fear, repression, and economic misery for millions.

The political system of Iran, dominated by unelected institutions like the Supreme Leader’s office and the IRGC, is deeply invested in maintaining this state of permanent militarization. The country is presented as being under constant threat — a narrative used to justify both internal repression and external aggression. But the main victims of this strategy are the Iranian people themselves, especially the working class. They suffer from high inflation, unemployment, low wages, lack of housing, and a broken welfare system — all while watching their country’s wealth go into bunkers filled with weapons.

Fars News Agency, close to the IRGC, reports on the new missile city. The entire report focuses on confronting the enemy. The enemy here is Israel. Iran’s missile power, however, has never been used in defense of the Palestinian people.

Militarism and the Political System of the Islamic Republic

The Islamic Republic of Iran is a militarized political system where power is heavily concentrated in the hands of security institutions, especially the Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps (IRGC). Unlike many conventional states where military forces are subordinate to civilian oversight, in Iran the IRGC operates as a central pillar of the regime. It has an independent budget, access to state resources, influence over foreign and domestic policy, and direct connections to the Supreme Leader. This structure is not temporary or reactive—it is a long-term design that shapes governance and policy at every level.

Militarism in Iran is not only a matter of building weapons or conducting military operations. It is a way of governing, managing resources, and controlling society. The political system is structured to prioritize military and security agendas above civilian needs. This is visible in how the regime allocates its budget, sets its political priorities, and defines its national goals. Missile cities are a direct result of this approach. These underground complexes are not just defense assets; they are a reflection of how the state understands power, legitimacy, and survival.

The missile cities are constructed and maintained in secrecy. Their locations are undisclosed, and there is no public information about how much they cost or how they are financed. This lack of transparency is a core feature of Iran’s militarism. Decisions related to national defense, especially under the control of the IRGC, are made without parliamentary review or public accountability. Iran’s official budget often includes vague or classified categories under which military expenditures are hidden. Civilian oversight bodies have little or no access to these figures. In practice, this means that billions in public funds can be redirected toward military projects without public knowledge or approval.

At the same time, civilian institutions in Iran have been significantly weakened. The parliament is largely symbolic. Electoral candidates, especially those for higher office, are vetted by bodies controlled by the Supreme Leader, many of whom are former IRGC members or individuals closely aligned with the military establishment. Ministries that are supposed to handle economic, health, education, and labor policy are often sidelined. This weakens civilian governance and leads to a system where military and security forces make decisions far beyond their mandate.

The IRGC has also developed extensive influence in the economy. It owns construction firms, import-export companies, telecom businesses, banks, and even large parts of the oil and gas industry. Through its economic arms, it wins no-bid contracts, bypasses taxes, and operates parallel to the regular economy. This economic power gives the IRGC long-term political leverage and allows it to fund projects like missile cities without relying solely on government budgets. This system creates inequality: a portion of the economy is locked behind military control, and profits are not reinvested in public welfare.

Militarism affects foreign policy as well. The IRGC’s Quds Force operates across the region, supporting armed groups in Lebanon, Syria, Iraq, and Yemen. These operations are usually presented as strategic defense measures or part of the so-called “Axis of Resistance.” However, they also reflect the regime’s decision to invest in proxy warfare and regional influence instead of diplomacy. These interventions come at a financial cost. The government never publishes official figures, but based on various estimates and leaks, the financial burden of regional military involvement is significant, especially when compared with the country’s struggling healthcare and education systems.

Domestically, militarism limits the space for dissent and civil society. Independent unions, student groups, and journalists are frequently targeted by security forces. Labor organizers who demand basic rights like unpaid wages or pensions are arrested under national security charges. This is not accidental. A militarized system treats demands for transparency and social justice as threats. As a result, not only is the economy militarized, but so is public life. People are expected to accept hardship in the name of national defense, while questioning the system is portrayed as disloyalty.

This structure also has implications for class. While the children of officials often avoid military service and enjoy better living standards, poorer youth are recruited into military and paramilitary roles or left without basic job opportunities. Public sector workers—including teachers, nurses, and retirees—regularly protest falling wages and rising inflation, but their demands are ignored while military investments continue. Missile bases are built underground, but the crisis on the surface—poverty, inequality, and repression—is visible to everyone.

Alongside the unveiling of new missile cities, the IRGC held a large-scale naval demonstration involving 3,000 military vessels. The event took place in Bandar Abbas and was led by the commander of the IRGC Navy, who referred to the operation as a show of strength and ideological commitment. Speaking during the ceremony, which was framed as a mobilization of the “Naval Basij” forces, the commander described the maritime units not simply as military personnel but as representatives of broader ideological resistance. According to his remarks, the seas have become a stage for asserting national and religious power against what he termed “occupiers.”

This messaging aligns with the Islamic Republic’s broader narrative that frames military activity, particularly in strategic domains like the Persian Gulf, as both defensive and symbolic. Statements made during the event emphasized not only territorial control, but also regional confrontation. The commander directly addressed adversaries in the region, warning that Iran’s naval forces—backed by ideological loyalty and regional partnerships—would block all escape routes and prevent foreign actors from using maritime spaces as a buffer or exit strategy. His language also included explicit threats toward Israel, stating that Iranian forces and their allies aim to turn the seas into a hostile zone for Israeli presence and ultimately erase Israel from the geopolitical map.

These threats were made in a context where, over the past decades, Islamic regime leaders have repeatedly spoken about the destruction of Israel. However, in practical terms, during more than a year ongoing genocide of Palestinians in Gaza and the ongoing devastation of the territory, the IRGC has failed to act on any of its public promises. Despite two missile attacks targeting Israel, these operations caused no significant damage and had no meaningful effect on the situation of Palestinian resistance or the conditions on the ground. The gap between the rhetoric of “revenge” and the actual outcomes has become increasingly evident, raising questions about the strategic purpose of these actions beyond domestic propaganda and regional signaling.

The Impact on Daily Life and the Working Class

The militarized structure of the Islamic Republic, centered around institutions like the IRGC, has serious consequences for daily life in Iran—especially for the working class. Resources that could be directed toward public services, welfare programs, or employment initiatives are instead absorbed into defense budgets and security infrastructure. The construction of missile cities, the expansion of underground military bases, and the development of weapons systems represent major financial undertakings. Yet these projects operate in complete isolation from the needs of the majority of the population.

For ordinary Iranians, economic conditions have sharply deteriorated over the past decade. Inflation remains high, with the price of basic goods often fluctuating beyond the reach of working families. The national currency has lost significant value, and wages have not kept pace with the cost of living. In rural areas and working-class neighborhoods of major cities, access to healthcare, housing, and stable employment is increasingly limited. Strikes and labor protests have become more frequent, often led by teachers, factory workers, municipal workers, and retirees demanding unpaid wages, better conditions, or pension increases.

Despite this, the government continues to prioritize defense projects like missile cities. Officials rarely address the connection between military spending and economic hardship. When questioned, they justify the investment in terms of “national security” and “deterrence.” But the public has no role in these decisions. There are no open debates in parliament, no independent media investigations, and no transparency in how much money is spent or where it comes from. What’s more, while these missile bases are praised as symbols of strength, many Iranians feel they offer no protection against the economic and political challenges they face daily.

The IRGC also plays a direct role in the labor market. Its control over large parts of the economy—including construction, oil and gas, transportation, and manufacturing—means that workers employed in these sectors are often indirectly working under military authority. In many cases, labor rights are more restricted in IRGC-owned companies, where union activity is not tolerated, and complaints about conditions are viewed as security concerns. Workers who try to organize strikes or protests, even for basic demands like unpaid salaries, are at risk of arrest, harassment, or blacklisting.

The lack of public investment in civilian infrastructure is one of the clearest results of militarized governance. Public transportation systems are underdeveloped or poorly maintained. Many schools operate with outdated materials and inadequate funding. Hospitals face shortages of equipment and essential medicine, with doctors and nurses regularly protesting understaffing and low pay. Meanwhile, state media produces polished reports about missile cities and underground bases, highlighting their technical complexity and strategic importance. This contrast is hard to ignore. In a country where children study in schools with collapsing roofs, videos of new missile tunnels are not a source of pride—they are a reminder of misplaced priorities.

Militarism also shapes the social environment. It creates a culture of fear and surveillance in which political participation is limited. Civil society organizations are tightly controlled or shut down, and citizens are discouraged from forming independent groups. Public discourse is dominated by narratives of war, defense, and resistance, while issues like poverty, gender inequality, and labor rights are sidelined or dismissed as distractions. People who raise these concerns publicly are accused of weakening national unity or helping foreign enemies.

For the working class, this means constant pressure. Not only are their material needs unmet, but their political voice is also restricted. Even peaceful protests are framed as national security threats. This logic extends from the highest levels of government down to local authorities, who often respond to labor or housing protests with police action rather than negotiation. Under a militarized system, social problems are seen through a security lens, and the solution is often repression rather than reform.

Between External Threats and Internal Control

The existence of external threats to Iran—including sanctions, regional hostility, and global power imbalances—should not be ignored or dismissed. These are real aspects of the international system, shaped by unequal economic and military power. However, acknowledging this reality does not require accepting the internal structure of militarism that the Islamic Republic has developed over the past four decades. Military expansion, such as the construction of underground missile bases, may be presented as necessary for deterrence, but the decision-making process behind it is neither democratic nor transparent. The resources allocated to these projects are drawn from a population already facing deep social and economic challenges.

Militarism in Iran today is not a response shaped by collective input or broad national debate. It is directed by a narrow group of unelected officials—primarily within the Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps (IRGC) and under the authority of the Supreme Leader. These actors operate with limited oversight, even from within the state’s formal institutions. The construction of missile cities and continued investment in military technology reflect a policy orientation that places strategic assets and regime survival above public welfare. In this context, militarism becomes a permanent feature of governance, not just a defensive strategy.

This pattern is not unique to Iran. Across the world, state-centered responses to insecurity—whether from external threats or internal crises—tend to rely on military and police power. What makes the case of Iran particularly stark is the imbalance between the resources spent on defense and those dedicated to the basic needs of the population. Inflation, housing shortages, unemployment, and lack of investment in education and healthcare are persistent problems. Yet military projects, often shielded from public scrutiny, continue to expand. The result is a structural disconnect between state priorities and public needs.

This contradiction also highlights the limits of a purely national approach to these issues. While militarism is justified in the name of national security, it is shaped by a global system in which states—especially in the Global South—are often pressured to compete for legitimacy through military strength. At the same time, the international system provides few real mechanisms for democratic accountability or cooperation among societies facing similar challenges. Instead, most international institutions remain dominated by the interests of powerful states, while authoritarian governments find justification in the existence of those same powers to legitimize their own repression.

A serious anti-imperialist perspective must address both of these realities. It must oppose the interventions and coercive policies of powerful states, but it must also reject the idea that resistance to those powers can only take the form of internal militarization or authoritarian consolidation. In the case of Iran, defending national sovereignty should not mean granting unchecked power to security institutions or suppressing demands for social and political rights.

What is needed is a new international approach, grounded in cooperation between democratic movements rather than between governments. Such a framework would not rely on state alliances but would support connections among civil society actors—workers’ organizations, independent journalists, rights groups, and local communities—that are committed to democratic participation and social justice. These networks could form the basis of a stable internationalist alternative to both imperial domination and authoritarian rule, offering forms of solidarity that go beyond strategic alliances or ideological alignment.

In this sense, the question is not whether Iran—or any other state—has the right to defend itself. The real issue is who defines that defense, how it is carried out, and what social costs it imposes. As long as these decisions remain centralized, opaque, and disconnected from the broader population, militarism will continue to serve the interests of those in power rather than the public at large. The long-term effect is a society in which policy is shaped by security institutions rather than public participation, and in which stability is pursued through force rather than through meeting the population’s material and political needs.

For most people in Iran, especially workers and lower-income communities, militarism offers no solution to everyday problems. What is required is not the rejection of defense altogether, but the redefinition of what security means. Security, in this sense, should include access to food, housing, healthcare, education, and the ability to organize and speak freely. Without addressing these foundations, no amount of military infrastructure can produce lasting security or political stability.