There are two obvious reasons to possess a nuclear weapon. The first is to dominate non-nuclear-armed neighbours, making them submit through the fear of incineration. The second is defensive — to deter a more powerful enemy from attacking by persuading them that the price of victory will be too awful to be borne.
The American and Israeli campaign against Iran is motivated by a fear of the first scenario: a Middle East remade by Iranian nuclear blackmail. However, the conflict to date has made the second scenario more relevant. It has been demonstrated that Iran already possesses a nuclear-esque deterrent — a credible threat of mass destruction that places strict limits on what its opponents can reasonably risk.
Unlike North Korea, the Iranian regime does not yet have a brace of nuclear warheads to keep America at bay. Yet, it wields an escalatory power that was unavailable to Saddam Hussein or Muammar Gaddafi. The first great move is the closure of the Strait of Hormuz, damaging global energy markets. The second is the threat to destroy the broader infrastructure of the Persian Gulf, from refineries to desalination plants. This is usable only in extremis, as an act of murder-suicide, but remains a potent threat for a regime facing existential defeat.
The central problem with the current strategy is that it has placed the Iranian government in exactly that existentially threatened position. Through a decapitation campaign designed to force regime change — without yet delivering a political revolution — the West has made apocalyptic moves rational for Tehran. This was not the case with earlier, limited strikes against nuclear or military infrastructure. It is the inevitable consequence of leading with regime-change efforts, which leave the target with every incentive to make extreme, nuclear-scale moves.
There are, of course, limits to the nuclear analogy. Iran’s ability to wreak havoc depends not on a single weapon but on distributed capacities: missile launchers targeting neighbours and physical control of territory around the Strait of Hormuz. Because the Hormuz weapon takes time to be felt, and missile launchers are vulnerable to air power, this deterrent can be reduced by attrition. Theoretically, a combination of military moves could mitigate economic damage and reduce Iran’s escalatory power, provided one is willing to commit to a long-term conflict.
This is the war some hawks desire, involving ground troops and expeditionary forces to achieve by degrees what cannot be achieved immediately. Interestingly, there is a convergence here between hawks and critics. Both argue that if the United States does not commit Marines to capture territory around the strait and permanently eliminate the threat, it must accept a strategic defeat. In this view, Iran emerges as a new regional hegemon, akin to Paul Atreides in Dune, threatening to destroy the 'spice' to wreck galactic civilisation.
I am sceptical of this "Paul Atreides" moment. Iran’s conventional forces are hardly an all-conquering army, and geopolitics rarely mimics science fiction. Kim Jong Un has the power to set his region ablaze, but that hasn’t made him a god-emperor; it simply makes his regime unusually hard to attack.
Similarly, if the United States backs off from the decapitation campaign and returns to diplomacy, Iran’s threats will become less credible than they are with its back against the wall. America’s conventional military advantage will endure, allowing the US to inflict renewed pain if Tehran attempts permanent economic blackmail. Furthermore, Iran’s willingness to threaten doomsday is more likely to increase its long-term isolation than to encourage neighbours to align with the Islamic Republic.
De-escalation will not be costless, and an armistice short of regime change would represent a limited defeat for American power. But contrary to the doomsayers, the United States is strong enough and sufficiently insulated to absorb a strategic disappointment. Letting the administration spin that disappointment as a success is a far more acceptable alternative than a land war in Asia conducted in the shadow of a global economic rout.
The New York Times