Middle East crisis shifts gears

The Middle East is entering a volatile new chapter in its long cycle of confrontation. Until recently, the pace of escalation in the region was dictated by Israel and the United States. Israel launched the first phase of this crisis with targeted strikes on Iranian military and nuclear sites, motivated by fears that Tehran had accelerated its march toward a nuclear weapon. The second phase followed quickly, with the US launching its own high-impact operation. Using B-2 bombers and submarine-launched missiles, Washington struck three of Iran’s most sensitive nuclear facilities: Fordow, Natanz, and Isfahan.

What makes these strikes historically significant is that they were not triggered by an imminent attack. They were preventive, not preemptive—designed to curb a threat that was growing, but not yet material. In that sense, the US and Israel were choosing war when diplomacy had failed to deliver satisfactory outcomes. As US President Donald Trump put it, the attacks were meant to “obliterate” Iran’s capacity to develop a nuclear weapon.

Yet despite the spectacle and scale of the bombings, it remains unclear whether the objective was truly achieved. Even if the physical structures were destroyed, Iran likely anticipated such an assault. Enriched uranium, advanced centrifuges, and key personnel could have been dispersed beforehand. Intelligence assessments on the effectiveness of the strike are ongoing, but as of now, Tehran’s nuclear ambition has likely been set back—not eliminated.

Now the world waits to see what Iran does next. The crisis has entered a third phase, and this time, the initiative lies firmly with Tehran.

Much speculation surrounds how Iran will respond. It has a broad menu of options ranging from overt military retaliation to subtler forms of asymmetric warfare. Cyberattacks on American infrastructure, strikes against US forces stationed across the Middle East, or targeting of key shipping lanes in the Strait of Hormuz are all possible. Iran could also act through its network of regional proxies—from Hezbollah in Lebanon to the Houthis in Yemen—enabling deniability while still exerting pressure.

Yet early indications suggest that Iran is playing a longer game. Its limited and largely symbolic strike on a US base in Qatar, which caused no casualties, was performative rather than escalatory. That restraint sends a message: Iran does not want to provoke a deeper military confrontation that could devastate its economy or threaten regime survival. The leadership in Tehran may be choosing a strategic pause—stabilizing internally while assessing its external leverage.

Importantly, Iran’s decision-makers may also be drawing a powerful conclusion from these events: if they had possessed a nuclear deterrent, these strikes might never have occurred. That line of thinking—however dangerous—could reinforce Iran’s resolve to reconstitute its nuclear program with greater urgency and secrecy.

This shift in initiative has profound implications. For one, it undermines the argument that military force alone can resolve the Iranian nuclear issue. Both the US and Israel have now used significant firepower against Tehran’s infrastructure, yet they may not have changed its fundamental intentions. As history has shown in North Korea and Pakistan, once a country views nuclear weapons as essential to survival, only internal political change—not outside pressure—is likely to reverse that calculus.

The region is also at risk of entering a more dangerous era of proliferation. If Iran eventually acquires nuclear weapons—or even the clear capacity to do so—other powers like Saudi Arabia or Turkey could pursue their own nuclear programs. That would destroy the already fragile non-proliferation regime in the Middle East and make any future conflict vastly more catastrophic.

Furthermore, energy security could suffer. Even without direct conflict, persistent uncertainty and the threat of Iranian retaliation—especially via shipping disruptions in the Gulf—could raise oil prices and increase insurance premiums for global trade. Businesses and consumers from Asia to Europe will feel the ripple effects of any prolonged tension.

In the wake of the US strikes, some political voices in Washington and Tel Aviv have renewed calls for regime change in Iran. The logic is simple but flawed: if the problem is the Iranian government’s ideology and ambitions, then the solution must be to replace it. But regime change is not a strategy—it’s a fantasy, unless very specific conditions are met.

Those conditions—internal rebellion, external sponsorship, and a viable alternative leadership—do not currently exist in Iran. The regime remains repressive but functional, with a deeply embedded security apparatus and limited tolerance for dissent. The last major protest movements, while passionate, were crushed or faded without leadership cohesion. Any attempt at external regime change would require a full-scale military occupation—something few in the US or Israel are prepared to pursue after the experience of Iraq.

Rather than wishful thinking, policymakers would be wiser to plan for the more likely scenario: that Iran’s current leadership, or something resembling it, will remain in power for the foreseeable future.

The US must now reckon with a reality it helped create: a Middle East where Iran no longer plays defense but begins to dictate terms. The assumption that military might could neutralize the nuclear threat is proving brittle. Worse, Washington’s use of force may have foreclosed potential diplomatic pathways. After being attacked so openly, Tehran is unlikely to trust any Western offer—no matter how generous—unless it comes with security guarantees that the US is unwilling to give.

This also changes the perception of deterrence. If Iran accelerates its nuclear efforts now, it would be doing so with a strategic logic the world has seen before: a nuclear deterrent is the only way to prevent regime-toppling interventions. In that respect, the US and Israel may have pushed Iran closer to the very outcome they hoped to avoid.

The center of gravity has shifted. Iran is now the key actor shaping what comes next in this crisis—not because it is stronger, but because its adversaries have played their cards. Washington and Jerusalem hoped that decisive military strikes would defuse the nuclear threat. Instead, they may have simply forced it underground and added urgency to Tehran’s ambitions. The broader lesson is clear: you can bomb facilities, but you can’t bomb knowledge or intent.

In this phase, restraint will matter as much as resolve. The risk isn’t just another round of retaliation—it’s the slow normalization of a region sliding toward permanent nuclear brinkmanship. If diplomacy is dead, then so is strategic clarity. The world must now prepare not just for what Iran might do next, but for a future in which preemption becomes policy, deterrence becomes doctrine, and trust becomes obsolete. As hard as it may be to accept, Iran’s next move will shape the rules of engagement far beyond its borders. The West must respond not with panic, but with purpose.