For decades, Iran’s air force was unable to keep up with its enemies. Decades of sanctions and political isolation saw the nation flying planes that would be museum pieces elsewhere—ancient F-4 Phantoms, F-5 Tigers, and a handful of MiG-29s that have better days behind them. Modernization was always the ambition, but access to next-generation technology was ever denied.
That is all changing. The sale of Russian Su-35 fighter jets to Iran, approved last week, is one of the most significant moves in Tehran’s decades-long campaign to restore its air capabilities. With the UN arms embargo expiring in 2020, Iran finally had the latitude to negotiate conventional weapons sales, and the Su-35 became the jewel of its modernization effort.
The past few years have seen Moscow and Tehran move closer to each other, both of which saw something in the other. Russia, cut off from Western markets because of continuous wars, has looked to Iran for military equipment, especially its inexpensive drones that have proved themselves on the battlefield. Russia, in exchange, has committed to supplying sophisticated military equipment like the Su-35 air-superiority fighters, Mi-28 attack helicopters, and Yak-130 training aircraft. The deal has been alarming Washington, Tel Aviv, and across the Gulf, where the leaders worry the deal will embolden Tehran and further destabilize an already fragile region.
The Su-35 is no run-of-the-mill plane. Introduced in the mid-2010s, the fighter is a quantum leap forward in design, performance, and avionics over the jets currently in Iran’s arsenal. With its vectored-thrust engines, sophisticated radar, and extensive armament, the Su-35 provides Iran with something it hasn’t possessed in decades—a true fourth-generation fighter capable of testing regional air defenses. Iranian leaders were quick to emphasize the deterrence potential of the jet, calling it an essential tool for defending national interests and expanding their defensive perimeter.
Nevertheless, incorporating such an advanced platform into Iran’s geriatric air force will not be simple. The technological disparity between the Su-35 and Iran’s current aircraft is gigantic. Pilots and maintenance personnel will need to undergo prolonged training to learn to operate the radar, sensors, and electronic warfare systems of the jet. In addition, the nation’s maintenance facilities were designed for previous generations of aircraft and will have to be upgraded to support the needs of a high-performance fleet. Making communications and data-link compatibility with older aircraft will also involve considerable investment and planning.
The regional response has been rapid and apprehensive. Israel, with its long-held status as the Middle East’s most effective air force, has strongly objected to the deal. Israeli officials have been reported to have even asked Moscow to cancel or postpone the sale, with the fear that it might embolden Iran and its proxies active in Syria and Lebanon. At the same time, Gulf Arab nations—naturally suspicious of Iran’s missile and drone capabilities—are eyeing increased defenses, with some seeking to deepen relationships with Western providers and cutting-edge platforms like the F-35.
For Western policymakers, the sale is a grim reminder of just how far sanctions and embargoes can actually be pushed. While international restrictions officially lapsed years earlier, politically, the toll of Iran acquiring such advanced jets is only now being experienced. Critics claim that without more effective preventive steps, regional arms races may continue, destabilizing the fine balance of deterrence that so far has prevented open conflict.
Despite that, the arrival of the Su-35 will not significantly change the military calculus overnight. Iran will reportedly receive fewer than two dozen planes, well short of the numbers deployed by Israel and other powers in the region. Although the aircraft will enhance Iran’s air defense and raise morale, they will not elevate it to parity with the West’s most advanced militaries. For the time being, their worth is more in deterrence and symbolism than pure combat potential.
Politically, the agreement is one of convenience more than a close alliance. Russia wants to preserve influence in the region and balance Western pressure, and Iran wants to modernize without getting too deeply embroiled in Moscow’s struggles for geopolitical dominance. Both are happy enough with an arm’s-length, practical, transactional relationship that presents flexibility without binding obligation.
In the future, Iran and Russia are expected to intensify their defense cooperation, extending to joint production, drone technology, and missile technology. But there are challenges ahead—ranging from delivery timelines and technical training to the capricious vagaries of global politics.
For analysts in the region, the sale of the Su-35 is not just a weapons transfer—it’s a message. It’s a turning point in alliances, deterrence policy, and strategic calculus. The Middle East, already fluid and explosive, is about to enter another era of uncertainty—one determined not so much by who wields the most capable weapons, but by who is willing to use them.