Why does the Middle Eastern conflict refuse to end? How is it that the U.S. — a state with overwhelming military power — has been unable to bring it to a close? The situation has grown more complicated over time. At the outset, a short and decisive campaign seemed plausible. The United States could concentrate its superior force, neutralize Iran’s core capabilities and reshape the regional order. Even now, only the United States has that capacity, and yet Washington has proved capable of starting a war but not finishing it. The Strait of Hormuz, one of the world’s most critical trade chokepoints, has effectively become a hostage. Tensions escalate and ease, but the essential structure of the conflict remains stubbornly unchanged.
Why has it unfolded this way? Not simply because of tactical missteps, but because of a deeper misreading of Iran itself. While formally a republic, it is a survival-driven system centered on its Revolutionary Guard. In such a structure, retreat is not a policy option but a path to regime collapse. For those at the core of power, negotiation is not a flexible instrument. To yield is to risk not just influence, but existence. Under these conditions, endurance becomes the only rational strategy and external pressure often reinforces internal cohesion rather than weakening it.
One question must be confronted directly: Why intervene at all? Iran’s nuclear ambitions and regional expansion carry clear risks, including proliferation across the Middle East. Inaction would not have been a responsible choice. The problem was not the decision to act, but the absence of a coherent framework to justify that action and connect it to a sustainable order. Military operations proceeded without sufficient strategic alignment or political consensus among allies. The justification was neither fully shared nor firmly anchored. More critically, there was no credible plan for what would follow. An intervention insufficiently legitimized and poorly coordinated was bound to produce this outcome — a war set in motion with no clear path to a restoration of order.
The constraints on escalation are equally clear. A large-scale ground deployment and prolonged occupation remain politically untenable for the United States, even as more limited forms of military engagement cannot be entirely ruled out. Iran, for its part, cannot afford to step back. The result is a stalemate in which neither side can deliver a decisive blow, yet neither can withdraw. The cycle of blockade and counter-blockade of the Strait of Hormuz captures this impasse with particular clarity. This is no longer simply a prolonged conflict; it is a war neither side has yet been able to end.
It is true that the Trump administration’s abrasive and unpredictable leadership has strained trust with its allies. Frustration among partners is understandable. Responsibility, however, cannot be deferred. For years, many allies have sought to minimize risk while taking the stability of the prevailing order for granted. That posture is no longer sustainable.
Regimes like Iran do not easily become conventional negotiating partners. In the language of political philosophy, Iran approximates what John Rawls described as an “outlaw state.” To treat such a state as a normal interlocutor is not prudence — it is a fundamental misjudgment. What is required is not only diplomatic skill, but clarity of principle.
That clarity must be matched by action. The Trump administration’s so-called “Project Freedom” signals a shift toward securing the Strait of Hormuz through direct operational measures, even as its full implications remain uncertain. Strategic chokepoints cannot be left exposed to pressure. Allies must now decide whether to remain observers or to assume a more active role in safeguarding maritime security and ensuring the flow of energy.
The United States can no longer rely on negotiations alone; it must pair diplomacy with sustained pressure and deterrence, narrowing Tehran’s viable options. The challenge is whether this power can be translated into a stable order — and whether allies are willing to share the burden.
This shift carries significant implications. A limited “small deal” has become increasingly implausible. Having defined the war in terms of Iran’s nuclear program, Washington has little room to retreat. In that sense, the narrowing of such an option may be stabilizing rather than dangerous. A premature withdrawal would not simply affect the Middle East; it would signal a weakening of American authority and credibility. No other actor can fill that role. European and Asian allies can contribute, but even together they cannot match the same level of deterrence or sustain the broader system.
The effects extend well beyond the region. A visible erosion of American resolve would reverberate across other fault lines where deterrence remains fragile. The Taiwan Strait and the Korean Peninsula — already marked by structural tensions — could enter a more volatile phase. As confidence in order weakens, deterrence erodes and instability begins to spread. In such a world, norms give way to naked force as the organizing principle. Even if the United States and Iran were to reach a temporary understanding, it would not resolve the underlying structure. It would merely postpone its consequences.
Source: Korea Times News
