Coin Press - Iran unrest and US threats

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Iran unrest and US threats




Throughout the winter of 2025–26, the Islamic Republic of Iran has been shaken by its most extensive wave of civil unrest in decades. What began as a series of shopkeeper strikes in Tehran’s Grand Bazaar on 28 December 2025 quickly swelled into nationwide demonstrations. Anger over spiralling inflation, the collapse of the Iranian rial and subsidy reforms spilled into calls for political change. The movement spread rapidly through all 31 provinces, drawing in university students, bazaar traders and unemployed youth alike. Crowds took to the streets in at least 185 cities, chanting against the clerical establishment and sometimes waving the pre‑revolutionary lion‑and‑sun flag. Within days the crisis came to be seen as the greatest challenge to Iran’s theocratic leadership since the Woman, Life, Freedom uprising of 2022.

Economic grievances spark nationwide uprising
The immediate trigger for this unrest was an economic collapse that accelerated after a 12‑day war with Israel in June 2025. Iranian air defences, nuclear facilities and ballistic‑missile infrastructure were severely damaged during that conflict, and more than thirty senior officers of the Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps were killed. The United States joined Israel in the strikes, and renewed sanctions from Washington and Europe further squeezed Tehran’s finances. By the end of 2025 the rial had lost over forty per cent of its value, inflation exceeded forty per cent and food prices outpaced wages. Fuel subsidies were slashed, and new pricing structures were announced for government‑subsidised gasoline. Merchants accustomed to supporting the regime suddenly faced empty shelves and desperate customers. When bazaaris closed their shops in protest, ordinary Iranians saw an opportunity to vent long‑simmering frustrations.

The unrest grew as labourers, teachers and university students joined demonstrations. Strikes shut down markets in dozens of cities and disrupted industrial facilities. Protesters lamented not only the cost‑of‑living crisis but also decades of repression and international isolation. Many participants were too young to remember the 2009 Green Movement yet were emboldened by the memory of the 2022 protests sparked by the death of Jina Mahsa Amini. The scale of this mobilisation quickly eclipsed previous rounds of unrest. Human‑rights monitors reported demonstrations in every province, with chants of “death to the dictator” echoing from Tehran to Tabriz. Video clips circulating before the government’s internet shutdown showed huge night‑time marches, women removing headscarves and groups toppling portraits of the Supreme Leader.

Government crackdown and communications blackout
Iranian authorities responded with a mixture of concessions and severe repression. In early January the government promised small monthly stipends of about US$7 to help cover basic foodstuffs. At the same time the annual budget proposal increased spending on security by nearly 150 per cent while raising wages by less than half the inflation rate. Security forces were mobilised across the country: units of the Revolutionary Guard, the regular military and the Basij militia were deployed to disperse crowds with tear gas, birdshot and live ammunition. Physicians described mass‑casualty conditions in hospitals, with gunshot wounds and shrapnel injuries overwhelming medical staff. Morgues in Tehran’s outskirts filled with hundreds of bodies; videos circulated showing forensic personnel cataloguing victims while bereaved families tried to identify relatives.

Determining an accurate death toll has been difficult. Britain’s foreign secretary told Parliament on 13 January that her government believed at least 2,000 people had been killed and feared the number could be higher. Human‑rights activists on the ground suggested that more than 2,400 deaths had been confirmed, and some Iranian sources claimed the figure might exceed 12,000. Government‑aligned outlets acknowledged injuries among police and Basij forces, but independent reports indicate casualty ratios heavily favouring the state’s violence. Thousands of demonstrators have been detained; Iran’s attorney general warned that participants would be treated as “enemies of God,” a charge carrying the death penalty.

On 8 January authorities instituted a near‑total internet and telephone blackout. Domestic mobile service was cut and international communications disrupted, with connectivity reportedly falling to about one per cent of ordinary levels. Even Starlink terminals smuggled into Iran by non‑governmental organisations were jammed. The blackout served two purposes: it hindered protesters’ ability to organise and prevented foreign observers from documenting the crackdown. Isolated pockets of connectivity persisted through illicit satellite links, but possession of such equipment was risky and punishable.

International dynamics and the U.S. response
This domestic turmoil unfolded amid heightened regional tensions and drew immediate attention from abroad. The United States, which had participated in the June airstrikes on Iranian nuclear sites, signalled that it was closely watching the situation. President Donald Trump publicly warned that the United States would not stand idle if Iranian security forces carried out mass killings. In several statements and interviews he said that Washington was “locked and loaded,” promising to take “very strong action” and to hit Iran “very hard” if the authorities began executing protesters. He emphasised that such action would not involve a ground invasion but could include targeted strikes, cyber operations or other measures designed to pressure the regime. At one point the president wrote that Iran was on the cusp of freedom and assured Iranians that help was on the way. He later said he would speak to technology entrepreneurs about restoring internet access.

These pronouncements emboldened many demonstrators who saw U.S. support as a deterrent against an even bloodier crackdown. Analysts noted that some people may not have joined the protests without the belief that Washington would intervene. Critics warned that limiting American involvement to rhetoric could be perceived as betrayal. Behind the scenes Iranian officials reportedly contacted U.S. envoys, offering to discuss the nuclear dossier while conveying a different tone than their public defiance. The White House confirmed that the president had been briefed on a range of response options, including low‑level strikes, economic assistance and diplomatic engagement.

Tehran’s leaders responded with a combination of bellicose threats and guarded overtures. The foreign minister declared that Iran was prepared for war while still open to negotiations. The Supreme Leader blamed “vandals” manipulated by foreign powers and vowed that the Islamic Republic would not back down. Military commanders warned that any aggressor’s “hand would be cut off.” At the same time, Iran’s defence council issued a statement implying the country might adopt a more proactive defence doctrine, hinting at pre‑emptive strikes against perceived adversaries. Iran’s strategy of deterrence was already weakened; its proxy networks in Iraq, Lebanon and Syria had been eroded and its ballistic‑missile arsenal depleted during the previous summer’s war. Yet the Revolutionary Guard’s navy continued to harass U.S. naval assets in the Persian Gulf and repeatedly threatened to close the Strait of Hormuz, which would endanger global oil supplies.

Historical context and significance
The scale and intensity of the current uprising recall earlier episodes of mass dissent in Iran. The 2009 Green Movement and the 2019 fuel‑price protests exposed cracks in the Islamic Republic, but both were ultimately suppressed. The 2022 Woman, Life, Freedom protests, triggered by the death of a young woman in morality‑police custody, broadened the base of anti‑government activism. What distinguishes the 2025–26 uprising is the convergence of domestic hardship and external pressure: a collapsing economy, military defeat in the June war and the perception of humiliation at the hands of Israel and the United States. Moreover, there is no functioning reform movement inside the establishment; even politicians long considered moderates have defended the crackdown. The president elected in 2025, Masoud Pezeshkian, initially urged conciliation but soon joined hardliners in accusing foreign agents of fomenting unrest.

The protests also gained a monarchist dimension rarely seen in recent years. Chants praising Reza Pahlavi, the exiled son of Iran’s last shah, became common. Speaking from Europe, Pahlavi urged demonstrators to keep their movement disciplined and as large as possible, and he called on them to prepare to seize and hold city centres. While few Iranians appear to desire a restoration of monarchy, Pahlavi symbolises an alternative to clerical rule. Some analysts suggested his calls could mark a turning point, particularly if discontent grows within the security forces. So far, however, there have been no significant defections among the Revolutionary Guard, Basij or the regular army, all of which remain structured to ensure loyalty to the Supreme Leader.

Prospects for change and international implications
Experts are divided on the likely trajectory of the unrest. Many believe that, in the absence of external intervention or major splits within the security apparatus, the Islamic Republic has the means and the will to suppress the protests. Iran’s internal security forces were forged in the brutal Iran–Iraq War and have shown a high tolerance for violence. A near‑total blackout further obscures the regime’s actions and reduces pressure from international media. Some anticipate a return to the status quo after weeks of repression, while warning that underlying grievances—runaway inflation, unemployment, water shortages and corruption—make renewed unrest in the near future almost inevitable.

Others argue that the protests expose deep vulnerabilities. The broad, cross‑class nature of the movement, combined with the regime’s foreign policy failures and economic mismanagement, has eroded the legitimacy of clerical rule. Iran’s decision to prioritise security spending over social welfare has fuelled anger even among traditional supporters. Observers are watching for signs of fissures within the elite and the security apparatus. Should senior commanders break ranks or mass defections occur, a negotiated transition or even a collapse of the regime becomes conceivable. In such a scenario the Revolutionary Guard could attempt to consolidate power, potentially working with hardline clerics to maintain some form of the Islamic Republic. Alternatively, a power vacuum could lead to violent struggles among rival factions, with profound implications for regional stability and global energy markets.

For the United States and other regional actors the stakes are high. Gulf monarchies, though privately relieved at the prospect of a weakened Iranian adversary, fear the contagion of mass protests. Israel regards the potential downfall of the Ayatollah as strategically advantageous but worries about the security of Iran’s missile and nuclear stockpiles. Western governments must weigh the moral imperative of supporting popular demands for freedom against the risks of military escalation and wider conflict. Any U.S. intervention would almost certainly prompt Iranian retaliation against American assets and allies in the Middle East. Iranian officials have signalled that U.S. bases, shipping lanes and global energy supplies could be targeted if Washington acts.

Conclusion and Future
Iran’s ongoing unrest is rooted in a convergence of economic desperation, political repression and strategic weakness. The demonstrations that began as a response to rising prices have evolved into a nationwide uprising against clerical rule. The regime has responded with lethal force and communications blackouts, while offering only minor economic relief. Internationally, the crisis has been inflamed by U.S. warnings of intervention and by Iran’s threats of retaliation. Whether this movement will lead to meaningful change depends on factors both inside and outside Iran: the resilience of the protesters, the cohesion of the security forces and the willingness of foreign powers to act. What is clear is that the Islamic Republic faces a level of dissent and external pressure unprecedented in recent years, and the outcome will shape not only Iran’s future but also the dynamics of the wider Middle East.



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Long live Ukraine - Хай живе Україна - Да здравствует Украина

Es lebe die Ukraine - Да здравствует Украина - Long live Ukraine - Хай живе Україна - Nech žije Ukrajina - Länge leve Ukraina - תחי אוקראינה - Lang leve Oekraïne - Да живее Украйна - Elagu Ukraina - Kauan eläköön Ukraina - Vive l'Ukraine - Ζήτω η Ουκρανία - 乌克兰万岁 - Viva Ucrania - Ať žije Ukrajina - Çok yaşa Ukrayna - Viva a Ucrânia - Trăiască Ucraina - ウクライナ万歳 - Tegyvuoja Ukraina - Lai dzīvo Ukraina - Viva l'Ucraina - Hidup Ukraina - تحيا أوكرانيا - Vivat Ucraina - ขอให้ยูเครนจงเจริญ - Ucraina muôn năm - ژوندی دی وی اوکراین - Yashasin Ukraina - Озак яшә Украина - Živjela Ukrajina - 우크라이나 만세 - Mabuhay ang Ukraine - Lenge leve Ukraina - Nyob ntev Ukraine - Да живее Украина - გაუმარჯოს უკრაინას - Hidup Ukraine - Vivu Ukrainio - Længe leve Ukraine - Živjela Ukrajina - Жыве Украіна - Yaşasın Ukrayna - Lengi lifi Úkraína - Lank lewe die Oekraïne

Stargate project, Trump and the AI war...

In a dramatic return to the global political stage, former President Donald J. Trump, as the current 47th President of the United States of America, has unveiled his latest initiative, the so-called ‘Stargate Project,’ in a bid to cement the United States’ dominance in artificial intelligence and outpace China’s meteoric rise in the field. The newly announced programme, cloaked in patriotic rhetoric and ambitious targets, is already stirring intense debate over the future of technological competition between the world’s two largest economies.According to preliminary statements from Trump’s team, the Stargate Project will consolidate the efforts of leading American tech conglomerates, defence contractors, and research universities under a centralised framework. The former president, who has long championed American exceptionalism, claims this approach will provide the United States with a decisive advantage, enabling rapid breakthroughs in cutting-edge AI applications ranging from military strategy to commercial innovation.“America must remain the global leader in technology—no ifs, no buts,” Trump declared at a recent press conference. “China has been trying to surpass us in AI, but with this new project, we will make sure the future remains ours.”Details regarding funding and governance remain scarce, but early indications suggest the initiative will rely heavily on public-private partnerships, tax incentives for research and development, and collaboration with high-profile venture capital firms. Skeptics, however, warn that the endeavour could fan the flames of an increasingly militarised AI race, raising ethical concerns about surveillance, automation of warfare, and data privacy. Critics also question whether the initiative can deliver on its lofty promises, especially in the face of existing economic and geopolitical pressures.Yet for its supporters, the Stargate Project serves as a rallying cry for renewed American leadership and an antidote to worries over China’s technological ascendancy. Proponents argue that accelerating AI research is paramount if the United States wishes to preserve not just military supremacy, but also the economic and cultural influence that has typified its global role for decades.Whether this bold project will succeed—or if it will devolve into a symbolic gesture—remains to be seen. What is certain, however, is that the Stargate Project has already reignited debate about how best to safeguard America’s strategic future and maintain the balance of power in the fast-evolving arena of artificial intelligence.

Europe’s arms money maze

Europe’s rearmament has acquired an uncomfortable companion: uncertainty about what the money actually buys. In Germany, an argument over defence-related borrowing has raised questions about whether exceptional debt is producing genuinely additional expenditure. In Estonia, unreliable inventory records and disputed ammunition contracts have brought ministerial accountability into the foreground. These are different problems, but they meet at the same point: a larger budget is not a reliable measure of a stronger defence.The contention that nobody knows what is happening to Europe’s weapons money goes too far. Budgets are published, procurement bodies operate and auditors are identifying failures. Nor do these cases establish that funds have disappeared into Russian hands or that the Kremlin engineered the difficulties. The more defensible conclusion is also more useful: Europe cannot judge rearmament by the volume of money announced. It must establish what has been purchased, accepted and made ready for use.That distinction matters strategically. An adversary need not steal the money to benefit from delays, unusable equipment or a loss of confidence in the governments spending it.What the €800 billion actually meansThe scale of the spending is substantial. Combined defence expenditure across the European Union reached €418 billion in 2025, with €454 billion estimated for 2026. Those annual totals should not be confused with the much larger, multi-year headline attached to the EU’s rearmament financing plan. The widely cited €800 billion is potential financing capacity, not a single fund already transferred to arms manufacturers. Its main components are approximately €650 billion in possible additional national expenditure enabled by fiscal flexibility over four years, and €150 billion in loans through the Security Action for Europe instrument, known as SAFE. The loans must be repaid; the additional national spending depends on governments choosing to use the available room.These distinctions are indispensable to any honest assessment. Permission to borrow is not an order placed with a factory. An order is not a completed delivery. Equipment delivered to a warehouse is not necessarily equipment that troops can operate, maintain and replenish. Treating all these stages as interchangeable allows governments to claim progress before the military benefit exists.It also creates a temptation to add together figures that describe different periods or overlapping flows of money. A credible account of rearmament should distinguish financing arrangements from annual expenditure, and both from verified outputs. Otherwise, the public is left comparing impressive totals whose practical meaning is unclear.Germany’s argument over additional spendingOn 10 September, the Ifo Institute challenged the use of Germany’s defence-related borrowing exemption. It calculated an €11 billion gap between additional borrowing and the year-on-year increase in the relevant expenditure. Ifo’s argument was that 38.5 per cent of the additional debt had not produced additional defence and security spending, instead freeing room for other purposes in the ordinary budget. The Finance Ministry rejected the comparison as legally and methodologically flawed. The exemption concerns qualifying expenditure above one per cent of gross domestic product, rather than an increase over the previous year. Ifo, for its part, said its analysis concerned additional spending, not constitutionality.This is not evidence that €11 billion was stolen. It is a dispute over the relationship between an exceptional borrowing mechanism and the political expectation attached to it. The difference is important: an arrangement can comply with its legal design while delivering less additional expenditure than citizens understand the announcement to promise.The practical question is whether new borrowing expands defence capacity or changes the way existing commitments are financed. Those outcomes can coexist within the same budget. Refinancing an established obligation may be lawful and fiscally useful, but it should not be presented as though an equivalent amount of new military capability has been purchased. Germany’s dispute therefore points to a straightforward transparency test. Governments should identify the expenditure that would have occurred anyway, the genuinely additional commitments and the delivery milestones attached to them. Without that comparison, the argument risks becoming a contest between accounting definitions while the central question—what the armed forces actually gain—remains unanswered.Estonia’s warning from the accountsIn Estonia, the problems are more immediate. Defence Minister Hanno Pevkur announced on 2 September that he would step down, accepting political responsibility for failures exposed in defence administration and procurement. His announcement did not amount to an admission of personal corruption.The National Audit Office issued a qualified opinion concerning defence inventories valued at approximately €1.2 billion because their quantities, composition and valuation could not be established reliably. It also questioned an unexplained retrospective adjustment of €99.7 million to the previous year’s inventory figures. That does not mean €1.2 billion of weapons has vanished. An unreliable balance is not the same thing as a proven loss. It means the records are insufficiently dependable to establish what the balance represents—a serious weakness in any organisation, and particularly consequential in one responsible for military readiness.Inadequate records can obstruct decisions long before a final financial loss is demonstrated. Commanders and purchasing authorities need to distinguish usable stock from equipment awaiting inspection, repair or replacement. If those categories are unclear, another procurement decision may rest on a mistaken understanding of what is already available.Auditing is therefore more than an exercise in retrospective blame. A trustworthy inventory helps determine what must be bought next, how urgently it is needed and whether previous purchases fulfilled their purpose. Poor accounting can undermine operational planning even where no theft is established.Paid for is not the same as usableEstonia’s ammunition procurement for Ukraine illustrates a second difficulty. The audit identified disputed advance payments and warned of a potential exposure to the state budget of around €70 million. That figure describes a risk, not a final, adjudicated loss.The controversy includes contracts involving the Italian company Datasel. Pevkur described ammunition delivered under the disputed arrangements as incomplete and of insufficient quality, rather than simply non-existent. Datasel disputes the criticism and has said that goods delivered and invoiced were worth approximately €58 million against about €59 million in advances. The company’s account is a contested position, not a judicial finding.The disagreement exposes a distinction that matters beyond this particular supplier. A payment record, an invoice, the physical presence of goods and acceptance of those goods for their intended use answer different questions. A supplier may point to shipments while a purchasing authority disputes whether the contractual requirement has been met. The existence of equipment does not, by itself, resolve an argument over quality or completeness.For Ukraine, the decisive consideration is usable military support. For the public authorities financing it, the additional questions are whether payment conditions were appropriate, inspections were timely and contractual protections can recover money when performance is disputed. Those questions should be settled through evidence and the relevant proceedings, not through premature declarations of guilt.The procurement lesson is nonetheless clear. Emergency purchasing needs traceable contracts, independently verified acceptance and a dependable record linking each payment to performance. Urgency may justify faster decisions. It cannot make the distinction between an invoice and a functioning delivery disappear.An oversight system split across institutionsEurope’s defence financing does not sit within a single system of scrutiny. National budgets, EU programmes, loans and off-budget arrangements have different institutional responsibilities. The European Court of Auditors’ September review described complex governance and uneven oversight arrangements, rather than a continent-wide absence of auditing.SAFE falls within the European Court of Auditors’ remit. The European Peace Facility, outside the ordinary EU budget, has its own College of Auditors. National defence expenditure is scrutinised through national institutions. The distinction is between different mandates, not between money that is automatically checked and money that is automatically unaccountable. The difficulty arises at the joins. A public explanation may follow the announcement of a financing package, while a procurement body follows the contract and an operational authority follows the equipment. Unless those accounts can be reconciled, citizens and legislators may struggle to establish the complete journey from political promise to accepted delivery.Secrecy complicates that task, but it need not prevent it. Publishing ammunition locations or technical vulnerabilities would be irresponsible. Giving properly authorised auditors access to contracts, inspections and payment records is a different matter. The need to protect operational information should not become a general excuse for withholding financial evidence.Nor should procurement integrity be treated as a rival to speed. Clearly assigned responsibility, verifiable milestones and early checks can prevent disputes from developing into expensive attempts to recover money after the event. The relevant choice is between controls that work during procurement and explanations demanded after something has gone wrong.Where Putin could benefitThese failures do not establish that Vladimir Putin has obtained everything he wanted. A Europe that turns rising expenditure into effective forces would represent a very different outcome. There is also no demonstrated Russian role in the particular German budget dispute or the Estonian accounting and contractual problems described here.The potential advantage for Moscow is indirect. Delayed or disputed deliveries can leave the intended recipient weaker than the expenditure suggests. Confusing financial claims can make it harder to defend further commitments. A succession of procurement controversies could erode confidence not only in individual contracts, but in the wider case for supporting Ukraine and strengthening European defence.That is a strategic risk, not proof of an accomplished Russian victory. The public identification of problems is itself evidence that scrutiny exists. A minister accepting political responsibility, auditors challenging unreliable balances and a government being pressed to explain its borrowing are mechanisms through which democratic systems can correct failure. Their value depends on what happens afterwards.The answer is neither to abandon rearmament nor to shield it from criticism. Governments should report progress in terms that connect money to results: contracts awarded, payments made, equipment accepted and capabilities available, with sensitive details reserved for secure oversight. Disputed transactions should remain visible until resolved rather than disappearing beneath the next spending announcement.Europe does not need to prove its determination by producing another larger number. It needs to demonstrate that the money already committed is becoming usable strength. Until it does, the distance between those two things remains an opportunity for the adversary it is trying to deter.