The collapse of empires, the coercive imposition of peace treaties, and the humiliation embedded in diplomatic language have often laid the groundwork for global transformations that follow in silence and simmer until they explode. The Treaty of Versailles (1919) did not merely end the First World War—it planted a historical seed of discontent which would later germinate into the devastating Second World War. Germany, stripped of military pride, economic sovereignty, and political dignity, underwent a metamorphosis that was both alarming and transformative. Today, as Iran finds itself at the receiving end of international sanctions, isolation, and targeted military discourse, it is worth exploring whether such a moment could potentially mirror the interwar humiliation and recovery of Germany. Could Iran, despite its current military and economic setbacks, stage a return to global prominence—potentially with consequences the world is not yet ready for?
To understand this potential parallel, one must first revisit Germany’s transformation between the wars. Margaret MacMillan in Paris 1919: Six Months That Changed the World underscores how the Treaty of Versailles was less a peace settlement and more a punitive imposition that fractured German national identity (MacMillan, 2002). Stripped of territories, denied rearmament, and subjected to colossal reparations, Germany internalized a narrative of betrayal. Similarly, Iran—facing layers of sanctions, drone strikes, sabotage operations, and being painted as a global pariah—might be internalizing a narrative of systematic oppression. The question arises: can Iran, too, turn such isolation into a crucible of reinvention?
This argument gains more traction when one considers the political psychology involved. In The Wages of Destruction: The Making and Breaking of the Nazi Economy, Adam Tooze explains how Germany weaponized economic despair and turned it into ideological consolidation and industrial modernization under the Nazi regime (Tooze, 2006). Iran, despite economic hardship, has shown remarkable resilience in surviving sanctions, diversifying trade partners (especially via China and Russia), and reengineering domestic industrial and military sectors. As Suzanne Maloney discusses in Iran’s Political Economy since the Revolution, the Islamic Republic has continually adapted its economy through resistance and self-sufficiency, often developing parallel structures that bypass formal global systems (Maloney, 2015).
But Iran’s adaptation is not only economic. The military recalibration, especially after the assassination of Qasem Soleimani and the continued wrecking of its nuclear infrastructure, resembles a restrained yet brewing counterforce. In The Iran Wars by Jay Solomon, it is made clear that American strategies toward Iran have often underestimated the ideological drive that sustains the Iranian state despite external pressure (Solomon, 2016). Such ideological depth often fuels long-term nationalistic resurgence, just as it did in post-WWI Germany.
Of course, there are crucial distinctions. Germany had an industrial base and scientific expertise that predated the First World War by decades. Iran, while regionally influential, lacks the industrial breadth of early 20th-century Germany. However, Kenneth Pollack in Unthinkable: Iran, the Bomb, and American Strategy suggests that Iran’s strength lies not in its tanks or aircraft, but in its asymmetric warfare capabilities, strategic geography, and ideological soft power across Shia populations in Iraq, Lebanon, Syria, and Yemen (Pollack, 2013). These elements together do not replicate blitzkrieg, but they do constitute a form of regional hegemony that could be scaled if Iran were to experience a strategic recalibration under duress.
One must also examine the cultural psychology of humiliation and revival. Bernard Lewis, in The Crisis of Islam: Holy War and Unholy Terror, explores how civilizations often respond to perceived decline through theological and civilizational reinvention (Lewis, 2003). In Iran’s case, this reinvention takes the form of combining Shia ideology with anti-imperial nationalism, creating a potent identity that can absorb external pressure without fragmentation. That very cultural cohesion, which Germany rediscovered in the 1930s under fascist mobilization, is present in Iran’s revolutionary framework.
A parallel can also be drawn with technological development under pressure. In Inside the Third Reich, Albert Speer explains how wartime isolation pushed Germany to innovate under duress, from the V2 rocket to advances in synthetic fuel (Speer, 1970). Iran, under sanctions, has likewise developed domestic missile capabilities, drone technologies, and is advancing its cyber-warfare capacities—an arena where it has already shown strategic competence, such as in the 2020 cyberattack against Israeli infrastructure.
Yet, if history teaches anything, it is that isolation without reconciliation begets escalation. In The Sleepwalkers: How Europe Went to War in 1914, Christopher Clark reminds us that great power competition, when left unmanaged and emotionally charged, often spirals into unexpected wars (Clark, 2012). With tensions rising between Iran and Israel, proxy skirmishes intensifying, and global powers fragmented over responses, the strategic silence from diplomacy may turn costly.
From the viewpoint of international relations theory, one must also consider the realist lens. John Mearsheimer, in The Tragedy of Great Power Politics, argues that states seek to maximize their security through power accumulation—especially when threatened (Mearsheimer, 2001). If Iran perceives its long-term survival to be at risk, it will likely pursue a path of strategic reassertion. And this does not necessarily mean a World War-style confrontation but could manifest in shaping regional orders, influencing energy markets, controlling maritime chokepoints, or developing a nuclear threshold stance that deters external intervention.
In All the Shah’s Men by Stephen Kinzer, the historical precedent of external intervention in Iran—the 1953 CIA-backed coup—is documented in detail, suggesting that Iran’s mistrust toward the West is not without basis (Kinzer, 2003). That history, much like Germany’s “stab-in-the-back” myth, fosters a national narrative that external forces are to blame for domestic setbacks, thereby legitimizing aggressive domestic transformation.
Nonetheless, caution must temper comparison. In Iran Reframed by Narges Bajoghli, the author emphasizes the internal debates within Iran’s elite, suggesting that unlike Germany’s highly centralized fascist apparatus, Iran’s political-military landscape is fragmented, with clerics, IRGC, technocrats, and elected officials competing for vision and direction (Bajoghli, 2019). This internal multiplicity might either dilute the potential of centralized resurgence or create an unpredictable, multi-voiced transformation.
In Proxy Wars: Suppressing Violence through Local Agents, Eli Berman and David A. Lake argue that modern conflicts are increasingly fought through decentralized actors and that states like Iran have mastered the art of projecting power without overt warfare (Berman & Lake, 2019). Thus, Iran’s potential return to global influence may not look like Germany’s Panzer divisions, but like networked asymmetry—cyber cells, militias, energy leverage, and diplomatic balancing.
Finally, Michael Axworthy, in Revolutionary Iran: A History of the Islamic Republic, asserts that Iran’s revolutionary identity is not merely reactive but part of a long-term ideological project with messianic overtones (Axworthy, 2013). This means that even without external restoration or reconciliation, Iran may see itself as progressing on its own civilizational arc—one that challenges Western secular-modernist frameworks from within.
To return to the original inquiry: If Iran is forced into a corner today over its perceived military and political shortcomings, can it later emerge like Germany did in the 1930s? Perhaps not in form, but in function—yes. The historical pattern of humiliation birthing ambition, pressure fostering innovation, and exclusion galvanizing ideology, is certainly present. Yet the world now is less industrial and more informational, less territorial and more ideological. Iran may not be Germany; but if the global system continues to respond with only isolation and coercion, it risks birthing a different kind of comeback—one crafted not with tanks and treaties, but with networks, narratives, and non-state asymmetries.
In a moment when diplomacy is rare and distrust is high, the echoes of Versailles reverberate not just in history books but potentially in Tehran’s future. The consequences, if ignored, may once again catch the world sleepwalking toward a storm.
