Two Regimes, Two Choices

One of the most consequential political successes of Saudi Arabia’s Crown Prince Mohammad bin Salman (MbS) has little to do with oil prices, megaprojects, or geopolitics. It lies instead in a subtle but transformative social recalibration—particularly around women’s rights—executed not through grand ideological speeches, but through quiet, irreversible change.

Without formally announcing the abolition of the hijab mandate, Saudi Arabia has effectively rendered it optional in many public spaces. Women can drive, travel without male guardians, attend concerts, work alongside men, and participate more visibly in public life. The once-feared religious police have been reduced to a shadow of their former selves, stripped of arrest powers and social authority. None of this was framed as a rejection of Islam. It was framed as modernisation, normalcy, and national interest.

The result? MbS, despite his authoritarian instincts and deeply controversial record, has become genuinely popular among Saudi youth. A generation that once felt suffocated by rigid social controls now sees opportunity, dignity, and a future at home rather than abroad. This support is not manufactured—it is lived, visible, and durable.

Iran, by contrast, has chosen the opposite path.

Instead of adapting to social realities, Iran’s clerical establishment has doubled down on coercion, particularly against women. Mandatory hijab laws are enforced with humiliating zeal. Moral policing remains aggressive. Protests—especially those led by women—are met with brute force, mass arrests, and intimidation. The death of Mahsa Amini was not an aberration; it was the spark that exposed a long-simmering social rupture.

Unlike Saudi Arabia, Iran’s challenges are compounded by severe economic hardship. Sanctions, mismanagement, corruption, and international isolation have hollowed out the middle class and crushed youth optimism. Add to this persistent external pressure—covert Israeli operations, cyber warfare, assassinations, and the looming threat of military confrontation, particularly during the Trump years—and Iran’s internal legitimacy crisis becomes even more acute.

Yet instead of responding pragmatically, the Iranian leadership has interpreted dissent as treason and reform as surrender.

This is a fatal misreading of history.

Authoritarian systems do not usually collapse because of foreign enemies. They collapse because they lose their social contract. When half the population—women—is treated as a permanent security threat, stability becomes impossible. You can police behaviour for a while. You cannot police aspirations forever.

Saudi Arabia offers a case study in how controlled social liberalisation can strengthen, not weaken, state authority. MbS did not democratise the kingdom. He did not loosen political dissent. But he understood something critical: cultural repression was costing the state its future. By selectively easing social restrictions—especially those affecting women—he redirected youthful frustration into economic participation and national pride.

Importantly, he did this without theological confrontation. There was no declaration that past interpretations were “wrong.” Instead, enforcement quietly faded. New norms were normalised. The state moved forward while allowing conservative elements to save face. This gradualism defused backlash while achieving real change.

Iran’s clerical leadership could take note.

The Islamic Republic was born from revolution, but it now governs a society that is young, urban, educated, and globally connected. Iranian women are among the most educated in the Middle East. They are entrepreneurs, scientists, artists, and professionals. Treating them as moral liabilities rather than national assets is not just unjust—it is strategically foolish.

Relaxing compulsory hijab enforcement would not topple the regime. Allowing women greater autonomy in public life would not erase Iran’s Islamic identity. In fact, it might preserve it by making it livable. Faith imposed at gunpoint breeds resentment, not piety.

There is also a geopolitical dimension. Internal repression gives Iran’s adversaries exactly what they want: instability, delegitimisation, and international sympathy for regime-change narratives. Every viral image of a beaten protester does more damage to Iran’s strategic position than a dozen foreign sanctions.

Pragmatism is not weakness. It is survival.

Iran does not need to become Saudi Arabia, nor should it mimic MbS wholesale. But it must recognise a simple truth: societies evolve whether rulers permit it or not. The only real choice is whether change happens through adaptation or explosion.

The iron fist has a shelf life. Women, once awakened to their rights and dignity, do not willingly relinquish their voice. Iran’s leaders can either shape the future—or be swept aside by it.

History is offering a warning and a blueprint, at the same time. Whether Tehran listens may determine not just the fate of Iranian women, but the future of the Islamic Republic itself.

Views expressed are personal. The writer has worked in senior editorial positions for many renowned international publications