The political establishment in Tehran is once again being tested—this time over the contentious Zangazur corridor and Iran’s evolving relationship with its northwestern neighbor, Azerbaijan. At the center of the latest storm is Iranian President Masoud Pezeshkian, whose recent statements advocating for de-escalation and regional integration have sparked fierce backlash from conservative circles and figures close to the Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps (IRGC).
During a recent speech, Pezeshkian questioned Iran’s longstanding posture toward Azerbaijan, suggesting that Tehran's failure to build strong relations with Baku opened the door for external actors like Israel. “It is our fault that we cannot be friends with Azerbaijan, that Israel came and became friends with Azerbaijan,” he noted, underscoring his broader critique of isolationist foreign policy. He also downplayed the so-called Zangazur issue—calling it a “small matter”—and emphasized the importance of constructive ties with all neighbors.
The reaction from conservative quarters was swift and severe. Tehran MP Hamid Resayi, speaking in the Majlis, accused Pezeshkian of "giving excuses to the enemy" and undermining the legacy of Iranian foreign policy. Merely subjugating the idea that Azerbaijan's close relationship with Israel threatens not only Iran's sovereignty but the Azerbaijani people's lives too. The MP went further to question Pezeshkian's loyalty to the Supreme Leader, invoking nationalist sentiment and suggesting the president’s approach is dangerously out of step with the ideological line of the Islamic Republic.
Perhaps, this is Iran's own position; it is unpleasant but represents reality. Whether we like it or not, this is the situation. In other words, it is important to understand that whichever state has close relations with another should not feel a special obligation to either side. Azerbaijan has always maintained a balanced policy; it is not a new idea. In the early years of Azerbaijan's independence, the attitude toward Iran was completely different in our society. There was a warmer attitude and stronger moral bonds than in later periods. The occupation of Garabagh, our southern neighbor's stance toward Azerbaijan after the occupation, interference in our internal affairs, and the various actions by a number of provincial mullahs over the past 30 years, along with Iran's position in the Second Garabagh War, Tehran's friendly attitude toward Baku's enemies, or Iran's hostile stance on various issues, have all shaped today's relations.
Official Baku diplomacy has consistently pursued a measured and suitable approach, and when necessary, it has shown its political strength to the country when facing certain threats or problems. So, no nation should have the audacity to criticize our relations with anybody else. Iran was the one, frequently outcrying about Azerbaijan's relations with Israel when it struggled to fixate on its internal political issues. There are no permanent friends or enemies—only permanent interests. This is diplomatic relations, and if it were as we wish, then Iran would be accused of participating in the occupation during the First Garabagh War. Supporting Armenia does not mean occupying Garabagh. Iran needs to move beyond its old policies.
At the heart of this domestic controversy lies the deeper structural contradiction within Iran’s political system: the long-standing tug-of-war between reformists and hardliners. Pezeshkian's pragmatic foreign policy reflects the views of the reformist camp—a vision rooted in regional cooperation, economic interdependence, and diplomatic normalization. It is also a continuation of efforts initiated by former reformist presidents such as Mohammad Khatami and Hassan Rouhani, who negotiated the Joint Comprehensive Plan of Action (JCPOA) despite opposition from hardline elements.
By contrast, the conservative faction—backed institutionally and ideologically by the IRGC—views regional diplomacy through the lens of ideological confrontation. Under this paradigm, the “axis of resistance” remains the centerpiece of Iran’s geopolitical calculus, and any project seen as bolstering NATO or weakening Iran’s strategic depth—such as the Zangazur corridor—is met with hostility. This was evident when Ali Akbar Velayati, a senior advisor to the Supreme Leader, denounced the corridor as a geopolitical trap designed to disconnect Iran from the Caucasus and encircle it alongside Russia.
Yet, such claims ring hollow under scrutiny. Iran still maintains an open land route to Armenia. Far from isolating Tehran, the corridor could enhance regional trade and offer new opportunities for transit, provided Tehran is willing to engage rather than obstruct. Critics have noted that these alarmist narratives serve less to protect national security than to entrench the IRGC's monopolistic control over Iran’s foreign and security policy.
Internally, opposition to Pezeshkian’s position is also rooted in fears of losing hegemonic control. The IRGC's ideological arm, the Quds Force, has seen its regional influence dwindle in recent years following setbacks in Syria, Lebanon, Gaza, and Iraq. As Iran’s external reach contracts, reformists see an opportunity to pivot inward—to rebuild Iran's economy, reestablish credibility with neighbors, and restore a sense of normalcy in foreign affairs.
Pezeshkian's call to “reduce sensitivities” and prioritize economic integration reflects this strategic recalibration. It is an attempt to break the self-imposed cycle of antagonism that has not only alienated Iran from much of the Muslim world but also invited diplomatic and economic isolation. His remarks—framed as a "small issue" by critics—may in fact signify a larger, more transformative outlook: one that views regional peace and cooperation not as a threat, but as a necessity.
Still, resistance to change remains formidable. The conservative backlash is not merely rhetorical—it is institutional, entrenched, and often backed by the threat of coercion. The legacy of late President Ebrahim Raisi, who painted the Zangazur corridor as a NATO conspiracy, still lingers in the halls of power. The Guard’s grip on foreign policy continues to restrict Iran’s reformist aspirations, both domestically and abroad.
But public sentiment is shifting. Pezeshkian’s message appears simple: border issues should be addressed through dialogue, not dogma. It is the flip side of the IRGC’s suspicion that infrastructure equals enemy strategy. Instead, the reformist reality is that roads can be bridges, not battlegrounds.
In the final analysis, the Zangazur corridor is not just a transportation project—it has become a litmus test for Iran’s future direction. Will Tehran continue down the path of ideological confrontation and strategic isolation? Or will it embrace a more pragmatic, inclusive approach to regional politics?
The corridor plays a crucial role in determining how a new system of relations can be established, taking into account both regional and international strategic needs. The primary driving force behind this is the strategic alliance between Azerbaijan and Türkiye. Meanwhile, those who feel sidelined are attempting to protect their interests by viewing the corridor as both a geoeconomic and geopolitical asset. In this context, Iran's opposition to the corridor is somewhat restricted in motivation, and its ability to effectively counteract Azerbaijan's interests is likely to diminish over time.
That path depends on whether Pezeshkian’s vision can survive internal resistance or whether reformist pragmatism will yield to entrenched conservatism. This difference of opinion isn’t just about a road: it’s about Iran’s place in a post-war South Caucasus. Clearly, the sustainability of the current Iranian president's speeches, often labeled as reformist, is questionable, especially considering similar patterns throughout Iranian history, yet it is promising for now
If Tehran chooses the corridor over confrontation, bilateral diplomacy with Azerbaijan could offer a model for a new era of regional cooperation—from energy to trade, from logistics to innovation. And the fact that the president of Iran is asking questions no one dared ask before suggests the debate has already begun.
Masoud Pezeshkian has made his choice clear for a while. Whether the rest of the system will allow him to act on it remains the unanswered and defining question.