A phrase used by US President Donald Trump in support of Iran’s protesters carries a specific military meaning, analysts say, going beyond political rhetoric to signal a state of readiness for action.
International relations scholar Kamran Matin described Trump’s wording as an explicit threat that could be interpreted as readiness for military action.
Matin told Iran International that in Trump’s latest remarks, the scope of the threat appeared to expand beyond Iran’s missile or regional activities to include the government’s violent response to domestic protests.
At the same time, he cautioned that Trump’s personal style must be taken into account, noting that the president is known for shifting positions and statements that allow for multiple interpretations.
However, Matin said that verbal threats do not always translate into action.
Despite signs of military preparedness by the United States and Israel in the region, Matin emphasized that there remains a significant gap between verbal threats, actual military readiness, and the political decision to launch a direct attack.
Read more about 'locked and loaded'


A phrase used by US President Donald Trump in support of Iran’s protesters carries a specific military meaning, analysts say, going beyond political rhetoric to signal a state of readiness for action.
In a message published on his Truth Social account, Donald Trump warned that if Iran’s rulers kill peaceful protesters, the United States would act to save the Iranian people.
"If Iran shots and violently kills peaceful protesters, which is their custom, the United States of America will come to their rescue. We are locked and loaded and ready to go."
The phrase “locked and loaded” is a classic military expression in English, meaning a weapon is armed, ammunition is in place, and it is ready to fire. Its roots lie in military training, particularly in the US armed forces, and the term has appeared in military literature since at least the eighteenth century.
Formally incorporated into weapons manuals around the time of World War II, the expression has long carried an operational and warning connotation. It is not merely a metaphor or casual figure of speech, but language traditionally used to indicate readiness for immediate action.
The expression has also become widely familiar through popular culture. In Hollywood war films, beginning notably with the 1949 film Sands of Iwo Jima starring John Wayne, “lock and load” is commonly used to signal the imminent start of combat. The phrase has since been embedded in video games such as Call of Duty and Battlefield, where it typically precedes intense fighting scenes.
Trump has used similar language in previous high-tension situations, including during confrontations involving North Korea and Syria.
Senior US officials have also employed the term in moments of crisis, signaling that the military option is not only under consideration but operationally prepared.
'US ready for military action'
International relations scholar Kamran Matin described Trump’s wording as an explicit threat that could be interpreted as readiness for military action.
Matin told Iran International that in Trump’s latest remarks, the scope of the threat appeared to expand beyond Iran’s missile or regional activities to include the government’s violent response to domestic protests.
At the same time, he cautioned that Trump’s personal style must be taken into account, noting that the president is known for shifting positions and statements that allow for multiple interpretations.
However, Matin said that verbal threats do not always translate into action.
Despite signs of military preparedness by the United States and Israel in the region, Matin emphasized that there remains a significant gap between verbal threats, actual military readiness, and the political decision to launch a direct attack.
Protests by Tehran shopkeepers highlight growing economic strain on small businesses in Iran, economist Ahmad Alavi said in an interview with Iran International.
Profitability has not only declined but has “become impossible” amid the rial’s steep fall, market turmoil, rising taxes, and collapsing consumer purchasing power, Alavi added.
“The decline in purchasing power is transferred directly to shopkeepers and small-scale economic activity,” Alavi said, adding that most Tehran market traders operate as small economic units with limited capital and very low risk tolerance.
He said rial's exchange-rate volatility has made planning impossible for importers, merchants, and small sellers.
“Planning, which is the basis of profitability and stability, disappears when the currency market is chaotic,” he said.
Alavi said rising direct and indirect taxes have added pressure on small business owners while weakening consumer demand further reduces sales.
He added that many shopkeepers have cut working hours and laid off employees or apprentices in order to continue operating, as inflation accelerates and purchasing power falls.


Iran’s draft budget for the coming year, submitted to parliament this week, is being widely described by economists as the most contractionary in decades, shifting the burden of deficit control onto workers and consumers.
President Masoud Pezeshkian presented the draft budget bill for the Iranian year 1405 (starting on March 21, 2026) to parliament on Wednesday.
Lawmakers have until March 20, 2026, to review and approve the proposal, which has already sparked heated debate among economists, labor representatives, and political commentators.
The government says the budget was prepared with an emphasis on fiscal discipline, realistic revenue and expenditure estimates, and greater transparency.
Officials argue that the bill aims to control the budget deficit and curb inflation, which remains above 40 percent according to official figures and closer to 50 percent by independent estimates.
According to the bill, the total budget for next year amounts to roughly 10,144 quadrillion rials.
For the first time, the figures are presented using Iran’s newly approved rial unit, adopted in November, which removes four zeros. Under the new system, the same amount is recorded as 10,144 billion rials.
Total government spending is projected to rise by 28 percent.
Reliance on taxes instead of oil revenues
A central feature of the bill is its reliance on tax revenues rather than oil sales. Skepticism over the feasibility of this strategy is widespread, particularly amid expectations of intensified sanctions that could limit oil revenues and further strain businesses.
“Growth in the country’s tax revenues exceeds the inflation rate, and given that we have no economic growth—or even negative growth—this is not economically justifiable,” Gholamreza Salami, a senior tax expert, told the reformist daily Shargh.
Morteza Afqah, a professor of economics, voiced similar concerns in remarks to Entekhab, warning that higher tax revenues are unrealistic in the absence of economic growth.
“Continuing this trend will lead to the widespread closure of small and medium-sized enterprises, resulting in rising unemployment, deeper economic recession, and a further decline in consumers’ purchasing power,” he said.
Under the bill, the government plans to raise the value-added tax (VAT) rate from 10 to 12 percent and distribute the additional revenue directly to citizens through electronic food vouchers. Part of the proceeds would also be used to adjust pension payments for retirees.
Supporters argue that this approach is more targeted than broad subsidies, while critics warn it will further weaken household consumption.
Cutting subsidized currency and fuel signals
The draft budget also signals a significant reduction in subsidized foreign currency for imports to save 5.7 quadrillion rials (billion in the new system). While about €11 billion (around $12.9 billion) was allocated this year for importing essential goods, that figure will fall to €7 billion (around $8.2 billion) next year.
Currently, selected importers receive preferential currency at 280,500 rials per dollar, compared to a free-market rate that has surpassed 1.35 million. The recent suspension of this rate for rice and medicine imports has already driven steep price increases. Proponents of eliminating preferential rates argue that the wide gap between official and market exchange rates has fueled corruption and rent-seeking.
The government also plans to allocate nearly 5.5 quadrillion rials (billion in the new system) rials from revenues generated by imported gasoline sales to direct cash subsidies. Analysts say this strongly suggests gasoline price hikes next year.
In addition, the budget anticipates 2.9 quadrillion (billion in the new system) rials in revenue from selling wheat at non-subsidized rates, indicating a likely reduction—or complete removal—of preferential currency for wheat imports.
Pressure on salaried workers
Despite inflation exceeding 40 percent, the bill proposes only a 20 percent increase in salaries for government employees and retirees. At the same time, it significantly raises the tax-exempt income threshold, meaning nearly all teachers and about 70 percent of public-sector employees would be fully exempt from income tax.
Economist Kamran Nadri told Jam-e Jam that the cost of fiscal tightening is falling primarily on employees. He argued that the government is seeking to close the deficit not by eliminating inefficient institutions or redundant budget lines, but by suppressing wage growth.
According to Nadri, the projected increase in tax revenues would, if realized, fall largely on consumers and could fuel inflationary pressure. However, he added that if the government avoids monetary expansion, inflation caused by higher taxes and the removal of subsidized currency would not necessarily be permanent.
Opaque spending and institutional budgets
Despite official claims of transparency, the budget allocates around €7.5 billion (around $8.8 billion) in oil revenues to vaguely defined “special projects,” with no clear breakdown of expenditures. This extra-budgetary category accounted for nearly one-fifth of last year’s budget and, according to Donya-ye Eghtesad, more than two-thirds of the operational deficit.
Critics have also targeted increased funding for religious and promotional institutions, as well as state broadcaster IRIB, which is set to receive a 20 percent budget increase. The reformist daily Arman-e Melli warned that such allocations, combined with limited wage growth, risk fueling social unrest.
“The combination of severe inflation, soaring prices, and wage increases that cover less than half of current inflation should be a warning to the government that this kind of budgeting prepares the ground for future protests,” the paper wrote.
Nevertheless, hardline conservatives have also protested funding levels. Quds newspaper criticized cuts to the budget for promoting the “culture of pilgrimage.” Nasrollah Pejmanfar, a member of parliament from Mashhad, told the paper: “Unfortunately, neglect of the issue of pilgrimage has meant that people have not been able to benefit from it properly and have faced difficulties.”
Speaking to Arman-e Melli, reformist politician Fayyaz Zahed urged President Pezeshkian to seek Supreme Leader Ali Khamenei’s backing to gradually reduce funding for institutions reliant on public money. “If the president were to cut these budgets today,” he said, “his government would not last even a month. This is a very difficult and frightening confession to make.”

Tehran’s newly announced fuel price changes have been presented as a long-overdue reform of an unsustainable subsidy system, but they amount to an undeclared form of austerity aimed at rolling back subsidies with minimal political exposure.
Rather than opening a public debate, officials are rolling out a complex web of fees, pricing tiers and regulatory adjustments that allow revenue to be raised quietly.
The move marks the first fuel price hike since November 2019, when a sudden increase sent Iranians into the streets and was followed by a violent crackdown that killed several hundreds.
That episode has loomed over economic policymaking ever since. Presidents have changed, inflation has surged and the currency has collapsed, but fuel prices remained largely frozen.
After years of hesitation, the administration of President Masoud Pezeshkian has moved to increase prices, but through a layered system that disperses the impact across rules and clauses.
The new policy replaces a flat rate with a multi-tier structure. More consequential, however, are the discretionary powers embedded in the legislation. It allows for annual price adjustments linked to inflation.
In practice, this means fuel costs can rise automatically in an economy where inflation remains high and largely policy-driven.
The reform also separates the base price of gasoline from additional “operational” or service charges that were previously bundled into the final cost. These fees are loosely defined and not capped, giving authorities room to raise the effective price without formal announcements or parliamentary debate.
Equally significant is a sunset clause affecting subsidies themselves.
Under the new rules, newly registered domestic vehicles are excluded from subsidized fuel. While officials have floated the possibility of delays or exemptions, the legislation is explicit. Over time, as the existing vehicle fleet is retired, fuel subsidies would effectively disappear.
To accelerate that transition, the state has introduced a set of regulatory incentives. High-consumption and foreign-made vehicles are removed from subsidy eligibility, while permits for new car production or imports are increasingly tied to the scrapping of older vehicles.
Critics warn this could create a secondary market for scrap permits, potentially benefiting intermediaries with political connections.
Officials argue that gasoline prices are artificially low, encouraging waste and disproportionately benefiting wealthier households with multiple vehicles.
On paper, these arguments align with standard economic theory, and the stated goal of reducing regressive subsidies has broad support among technocrats. What that framework often assumes, however, is a functioning market economy.
In Iran, price signals operate within heavy state control. The government seeks the revenue discipline of market pricing while retaining monopolies and administrative control.
Officials routinely point to excessive domestic consumption, yet President Pezeshkian himself has acknowledged that roughly 20 million liters of fuel are smuggled out of the country each day.
That scale of smuggling suggests organized networks rather than individual consumers.
Enforcement efforts, critics argue, have focused far more on end users than on the structures enabling large-scale arbitrage.
At the same time, consumers have limited ability to adjust. The state dominates the auto industry, restricting imports and leaving households reliant on inefficient domestic vehicles.
Chronic inflation—driven in part by fiscal deficits and monetary expansion—further erodes purchasing power, meaning price increases quickly translate into broader hardship.
Supporters of the reform counter that Iran’s budget constraints leave few alternatives and that some form of adjustment is unavoidable. They argue that delaying price reform only increases the eventual cost.
But standard market logic assumes choice.
In Iran, consumers cannot easily switch vehicles, suppliers or energy sources. Price increases function less as signals than as transfers, falling on a population already weakened by years of inflation.
For decades, the Islamic Republic has absorbed the costs of its regional and strategic ambitions by shifting the burden inward. Today, with limited room to ask for sacrifice, it appears to be relying instead on administrative complexity to impose it.
The mechanisms may be opaque and the data buried, but the effects are harder to disguise—and will ultimately be measured by what is no longer in the fridge.

Mohammad Javad Zarif’s latest Foreign Affairs article follows a familiar pattern in his narrative: recasting Tehran’s militarization and domestic repression as reactive responses to external pressure rather than deliberate internal choices.
Zarif argues that relations between Iran and the United States have long been trapped in a cycle of “securitization,” in which each side responds defensively to the other’s actions.
The Islamic Republic, he writes, has been “forced” to prioritize military spending over development because of attacks by Iraq, Israel, and the United States.
The argument downplays Iran’s own role in shaping that trajectory.
Contrary to Zarif’s account, the theocracy’s turn toward securitization gained pace in the aftermath of the Iran–Iraq war, particularly under the late President Ali Akbar Hashemi Rafsanjani, who helped embed the military in politics and the economy as a pillar of postwar reconstruction and state survival.
But Zarif shifts responsibility for Iran’s unbalanced development outward.
Western pressure, not decisions taken by Iran’s leadership, is blamed for a system in which missile programs expanded while welfare sectors such as housing, employment, and healthcare stagnated.
The implication is that Iran’s strategic priorities were imposed rather than chosen.
Zarif further suggests that reduced pressure from Washington would lead Tehran to de-escalate. Yet this claim sits uneasily with his own account of events following the 2015 nuclear deal.
One of the achievements Zarif frequently cited was the lifting of sanctions not only on Iran’s nuclear program but also on arms-related restrictions, including sanctions on Iran Air, allowing the airline to modernize its fleet.
By Zarif’s own account, however, the easing of sanctions did not lead to restraint.
In a 2021 interview with the economist Saeed Leylaz, Zarif acknowledged that Iran Air flights were used by the Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps to transfer weapons to Syria, with such flights increasing sharply after the nuclear deal. When Zarif raised concerns with Qassem Soleimani, the then-commander of the Quds Force, he said Soleimani replied that “Iran Air is safer.”
Zarif later described this dynamic as the “dominance of the battlefield over diplomacy,” an admission that key decisions about militarization were made within Iran’s power structure, not imposed from abroad.
Indeed, the period following the nuclear deal saw expanded investment in missile programs and a deepening of Iran’s regional proxy network, financed in part by newly available resources.
Yet in the Foreign Affairs article, Zarif presents increased uranium enrichment and the repression of domestic protest as reactions to Western pressure—once again shifting responsibility for violent crackdowns repression away from the rule in Tehran.
“The external securitization of Iran has fed into a parallel dynamic at home,” he writes, “as the state adopted a stricter approach in dealing with domestic social challenges, responding to these challenges with tighter restrictions.”
A similar pattern appears in Zarif’s account of Iran’s role in Syria.
In the same 2021 interview, he suggested that Iran’s direct military involvement followed a visit by Soleimani to Moscow, framing the escalation as the product of Russian strategy to undermine the nuclear deal rather than a decision taken by Iran’s leadership.
The role of Supreme Leader Ali Khamenei and Iran’s own security institutions is largely absent from this narrative.
The tendency to externalize responsibility extends to other areas as well.
After the nuclear deal, the release of several dual nationals and the unfreezing of Iranian assets raised expectations of de-escalation. Instead, a new wave of arrests of dual nationals followed, a pattern widely seen as deliberate leverage rather than a response to external pressure.
Zarif’s article also describes Israeli strikes in June 2025 as “unprovoked,” without reference to decades of official Iranian rhetoric calling for Israel’s destruction or the expansion of armed proxy groups along Israel’s borders.
The broader context of the current confrontation—including Hamas’s October 7, 2023 attack on Israel, praised by Iranian officials—is notably absent.
Iran has had multiple opportunities to break the cycle Zarif describes, from the early years after the revolution to the post-nuclear-deal period. Each time, its leadership made choices that reinforced militarization and repression rather than curbing them.
The question raised by Zarif’s essay is not whether external pressure mattered—but why internal agency continues to be written out of the story.





