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Sunday, April 12, 2026

Source: Drop Site News

SULEYMANIYAH, KURDISTAN REGION OF IRAQ—On April 5, during an interview with Fox News journalist Trey Yingst, President Donald Trump apparently confessed to trying to foment an armed uprising by dissidents inside Iran earlier this year, suggesting that the effort had only failed due to the betrayal of unnamed Kurdish groups. The U.S. government had, Trump said, “sent guns to the protesters, a lot of them. We sent them through the Kurds, and I think the Kurds took the guns.”

The claim of an ill-fated Kurdish role in attempting to topple the Iranian government triggered immediate denials by all major Iranian Kurdish parties. In comments to Drop Site, the Free Life Party of Kurdistan (PJAK), one of the largest and most organized Kurdish parties, denied Trump’s claim that they or other Kurdish groups—six of whom had formally announced the formation of a new alliance days before the start of the war—had received U.S. weapons to fight or transfer to other opposition factions in the country.

“No, we have never received weapons or assistance from the United States or any other country. As far as we know, all Kurdish parties have rejected Trump’s statements and are not aware of such claims,” said Zegrus Enderyarî, a member of the PJAK External Relations Committee. “It is possible that Trump intended to do such a thing or wanted to test the reaction of Iran and other regional countries. However, the time he referred to was when thousands of protesters in Iran were killed by the regime, and at that time, this alliance had not yet been formed.” (Drop Site could verify neither Trump’s claim he sent weapons nor the Kurds’ denial.)

The Alliance of Iranian Kurdistan Political Parties—involving six out of the seven active Kurdish parties in Iranian Kurdistan—was announced on February 22, six days before the start of the war. The timing of the pact has led many to suggest that it was intended as preparation for an alignment with Israel and the U.S. in the coming conflict. Enderyarî, without directly refuting that narrative, pointed out that the relevant discussions between the parties had started in the aftermath of the 2022 anti-government “Woman, Life, Freedom” movement in Iran—significantly predating the current war. “Although political conditions also played a role, the formation of this alliance was a historical necessity, and it can even be said that it was delayed,” said Enderyarî.

Regardless, Iranian Kurds quickly found themselves thrust into the forefront of the U.S. and Israeli war against Iran. In the first week of fighting, the U.S. and Israel bombed numerous government positions in Kurdish regions of Iran, while making public calls to Kurdish groups to launch an uprising against the government. That uprising, intended to drain the resources and attention of the Iranian military, while potentially causing the ethnic dissolution of the country, did not come to pass.

Other Iranian Kurdish groups who spoke to Drop Site expressed suspicion over attempts to maneuver them into a conflict at the behest of foreign powers.

Ebrahim Alizadeh, General Secretary of Komala (CPI), also known as the Kurdistan Organization of the Iranian Communist Party, the only party of the seven that didn’t join the alliance, stated that one of the reasons his group had not joined the February 22 announcement was out of belief that the alliance had been hastily formed in the shadow of U.S. and Israeli war plans.

“We asked to have a trial period of collaboration…but we realized that there was external pressure to do it faster. Afterwards we understood that this pressure was related to the war that started,” he said. ”When the war started, the Americans and Israelis asked them to enter Iran to liberate a region and put pressure on the central state. The plan didn’t work and they withdrew from it, partly because Turkey convinced them.”

The Iranian portion of Kurdistan, where Israel and the U.S. have tried to encourage revolt, has several distinctive features setting it apart from the other three parts. Unlike Kurdish regions in Turkey, Iraq, and Syria—all once part of the Ottoman Empire—Iranian Kurdistan has been under continuous Iranian rule for at least four centuries, with the Safavid Empire dismantling Kurdish principalities far earlier. Most Iranian Kurds are also Sunni in an emphatically Shia state, making them a double minority.

The failure to trigger a Kurdish uprising was one of many factors that contributed to transforming the war into a quagmire for the U.S. By early April, Trump’s frustrations over the war had begun publicly boiling over, leading to public accusations of betrayal by Kurdish groups.

On April 6, Trump fulminated that U.S. arms “were supposed to go to the people so they could fight back against these thugs. You know what happened? The people that they sent them to kept them because they said, ‘What a beautiful gun. I think I’ll keep it.’ So, I’m very upset with a certain group of people and they’re going to pay a big price for that.”

Trump’s references to “the Kurds,” as well as, “a certain group of people,” has led to confusion about whether his allegations are leveled against a specific Iranian Kurdish party, factions based in Iraqi Kurdistan, or the Kurdish people in general.

“He has still not clarified which Kurds he was referring to: the Kurds of Iraq or the Kurds of Iran?” Alizadeh told Drop Site. “All Iranian Kurdish parties have denied it. We reject cooperation with the American project in Iran. Other parties, by contrast, have sought weapons from the United States and are saying that they did not receive them. Were those weapons given to the Kurdish parties in Iraqi Kurdistan? They have remained silent on this matter. In the end, someone here is clearly lying.”

“Leave the Kurds alone”

Trump’s claims, which have been treated with disbelief by several regional journalists and experts, come amid intensified attacks on Iranian Kurdish parties and other targets within Iraqi Kurdish territory by Iran and its proxies. The attacks reflect a recurring tendency by the U.S. and Israel to “out” the Kurds and expose them to violent Iranian retaliation. This portrayal of Iranian Kurds as a perpetual fifth column working at the behest of foreign states has been devastating for Iranian Kurdish parties, who operate across the border in Iraq where many have been hosted by the autonomous Iraqi Kurdish government.

On March 4, false reports began circulating from journalists and others that thousands of Kurdish fighters had already crossed the border into Iran to begin a ground operation against the Iranian government.

The next day, Shanaz Ibrahim Ahmed, the wife of Iraqi President, Abdul Latif Rashid, as well as a long-standing Kurdish politician and a senior figure of the Patriotic Union of Kurdistan (PUK), denounced the idea of an intervention egged on by Tel Aviv and Washington. In a public statement decrying the effort to involve Kurds in the war, Ahmed said, “Leave the Kurds alone, we are not guns for hire.”

Ahmed’s statement, celebrated by many Kurds in the region, was released on the anniversary of Raperin, another famous Kurdish uprising against Saddam Hussein in 1991. That rebellion, which had also been tacitly encouraged by the U.S., was brutally suppressed by the Iraqi military, adding another chapter to a long history of perceived betrayals by Western powers.

When asked about the influence of Ahmed’s intervention, PJAK’s representative Enderyarî told Drop Site that despite a history of betrayals, Kurdish groups were still ultimately divided on the broader issue of foreign support. “The statements made by Shanaz Ibrahim Ahmad received wide attention among Kurds and others. However, not all political groups share the same view. Some believe that without foreign support—especially from the United States—it is not possible to change the regime in Iran, and therefore they support external intervention to some extent,” he said. “However, we, as a force based on grassroots organization and public awareness, believe that change must come from within society.”

Enderyarî added, “We do not see ourselves as part of this war. For us, this is a conflict between two hegemonic forces: one at the global level, the United States, seeking to maintain its dominance, and the other at the regional level, such as Iran and Israel, seeking regional hegemony. We do not choose either of these paths. Instead, we choose a third path based on self-governance and peaceful coexistence among the peoples of the region.”

This idea of the “Third Path” is not new, nor a product of the latest developments. PJAK belongs to the same political ecosystem as the Kurdistan Workers Party, or PKK. The historical Kurdish leader and founder of PKK, Abdullah Ocalan, has long expressed concern about the possibility of the Kurdish movement falling into Israel’s sphere of influence and being weaponized by it. Other top leaders of PKK such as Duran Kalkan have recently been explicit about it as well, stating in a recent interview that Israel and the U.S. were merely seeking a new, undemocratic hegemony in the region, and “preparing a new Shah” to replace the Islamic Republic.

Despite this stance from most of the leadership, there seems to be a real current among the base as well as some senior figures that see potential benefits in aligning with Israel.

“It is true Reber Apo and Duran Kalkan said those things, but there are indeed a lot of people within the movement that see Israel favorably,” Kawa, a 32-year-old construction worker in Suleymaniyah who’s ideologically aligned with PKK/PJAK told Drop Site. “If you ask me, is Israel good? No it isn’t. But it looks like Israel wants to give some respect to the Kurds—that’s why people think like that.”

The discourse around potential Kurdish involvement in the war is happening in the aftermath of recent developments in northeastern Syria, where a Kurdish-led project in autonomous governance known as the the Democratic Autonomous Administration of North and East Syria (DAANES) was dissolved by force in a military offensive by the new Syrian government based in Damascus. Despite working for years with U.S. forces as a counterterrorism partner, the Kurdish-led Syrian Democratic Forces (SDF) found itself abandoned at this critical moment—an episode viewed by many Kurds around the region as the latest chapter in a long history of betrayals.

The forcible integration of the DAANES into central government control came about after numerous Arab tribes that had previously fought alongside the SDF switched sides and pledged allegiance to Damascus. That decision has helped trigger a renewed sense of unity among Kurds across different factions, alongside sentiments of ethnic nationalism and resentment towards Arabs.

“I can’t, I’m done. I’m done with the Arabs,” said Marwan, a seasoned Kurdish fighter of the SDF, who spoke to Drop Site in the Syrian city of Haseke this February. The veteran of the historical Kobane battle against the Islamic State emphasized the sense of betrayal many Kurds felt from their former Arab partners. “It was not the government forces that attacked us in Shedadi and killed so many friends. It was our formerly allied Arab tribes that stabbed us in the back. How can we trust them any more?”

In the Kurdish-majority Syrian cities of Haseke and Qamislo, the Kurdish national flag is now everywhere—something which until recently was forbidden by the SDF because of policies stressing ethnic inclusion. Banners featuring Ocalan, together with Iraqi Kurdish leaders Massoud Barzani and Jalal Talabani, or of SDF chief Mazlum Abdi and Massoud Barzani, have become visible in some areas.

A sense of newfound ethnic unity and resentment has become particularly prevalent in Iraqi Kurdistan , where recent developments in Syria have been seen as a vindication of the nationalist conservative politics that dominate the regional government.

“Before, in my social group there were Arabs and Kurds and we were all just friends, but after all this we became Arabs and Kurds” said Sevak, a 24-year-old metal worker who spoke to Drop Site in Erbil. “Now the Kurds are united, before they were divided along party lines, ‘You are with Ocalan, or you are with Barzani.’ Now they are one.”

The increasing debates about the future of the Kurdish liberation movement comes as Iraqi Kurdistan has faced hundreds of missile and drone attacks from Iran and pro-Iranian militia groups in Iraq. In one of the latest incidents, a drone strike killed a Kurdish civilian couple in a rural agricultural village with no military presence—Musa Anwar Rasool and his wife Mujda Asaad Hassan, leaving behind two orphaned daughters.

The attacks, many of which are believed to have been carried out by groups associated with the Popular Mobilization Forces, an official part of the Iraqi security establishment, have further raised tensions between Iraqi Kurdistan and Baghdad. For the time being, the tentative ceasefire in Iran may give time for the Kurdish movement to reassess its future. The events of the past months will not soon be forgotten.

 

Source: Le Monde Diplomatique

On 2 March this year, Yanar Mohammed, a prominent feminist figure in Iraq, was shot dead outside her home by two gunmen – the latest in a string of activists killed, likely by units of the Popular Mobilisation Forces, Shia militias (1). A tireless advocate for gender equality, she had spent years campaigning against honour crimes, early and forced marriages, and all forms of violence against women. Based on women’s rights media outlet, such as Newjin, Yanar’s assassination is part of an alarming escalation in gender-based violence currently affecting Iraq and several other countries across the Middle East.

This intensification of violence against women cannot be separated from the context of war, instability and political fragmentation ravaging the region. Kurdistan, divided among four nation-states in the Middle East, remains particularly vulnerable despite a century-long intersectional struggle against multiple forms of patriarchal and state oppression. While Kurdish women are widely recognised for their decisive role in the fight against ISIS – particularly within the fighting forces in Syria and Iraq – they have also remained deeply committed to advancing women’s rights, equality and freedom in their societies.

In Iraqi Kurdistan, since the uprising of 1991 women have played a central role in awareness campaigns against inequality and discriminatory practices rooted in certain social traditions and in the Baathist legal system, including the Iraqi Personal Status Law of 1959 and the Iraqi Penal Code number 111 of 1969. Thanks to their persistent mobilisation and determination, and the support of progressive figures within the regional government, Kurdistan achieved several important advances: the recognition of honour crimes as murders without mitigating circumstances, the restriction of polygamy in several jurisdictions, expanded rights to divorce and fairer provisions regarding child custody.

With the rise of cyber violence, the regional parliament – encouraged by a dynamic civil society and supported by reform-minded leaders – in 2008 passed Law No. 6 on Preventing the Misuse of New Information Technologies. The aim was to curb digital harassment, protect victims and ensure accountability for perpetrators. A year later, in 2009, the legal minimum quota for female parliamentarians was increased from 25% to 30% of the legislature.

Women in Kurdistan have also successfully mobilised political elites in support of women’s rights and broader social policies. This effort led to the institutionalisation of women’s issues through the creation of the Combatting Violence Against Women Directorate (2007), the High Council of Women’s Affairs (2011) and the Women’s Rights Monitoring Board (2012), headed at the time by Prime Minister Nechirvan Barzani. These initiatives resulted in the establishment of shelters for women at risk and training programmes for judges, law enforcement officers, social workers and government officials. In parallel, the Kurdistan Region encouraged the creation of gender studies centres to analyse these societal challenges, conduct research and produce evidence-based knowledge grounded in feminist and ethical approaches. In 2011 the regional parliament enacted Law No 8 combatting domestic violence, one of the most progressive legal frameworks of its kind in the region.

These reforms have largely remained confined to the Kurdistan Region. In the rest of Iraq where Yanar was particularly active, not only did similar legal progress fail to materialise, but in August 2024 the Iraqi Supreme Court ruled that some reforms passed by the Kurdistan parliament went against sharia law (2). Women saw the decision as a major setback. When the Iraqi parliament subsequently passed the Jaafari Personal Status Code in August 2025, Kurdish women mobilised strongly against it, arguing that the legislation discriminates against women and privileges men in matters of marriage, divorce, inheritance and child guardianship. Yanar campaigned forcefully against the Al-Jaafari Law, arguing that it undermined the rights of women and girls while legitimising discriminatory, religious and tribal interpretations of marriage and women’s legal status.

In the context of the ongoing conflict and war, Hana Shwan – a journalist and prominent feminist figure in Iraqi Kurdistan, who visited women in shelters and prisons last week and whom I interviewed for this article – described how the conflict has acutely intensified uncertainty and fear among the most vulnerable women, particularly those in shelters and prisons, while simultaneously eroding her organisation’s ability to sustain its work in Sulaimaniya, near the border of Iran. Echoing Simone de Beauvoir, she emphasised that the conflict has not produced new inequalities so much as it has exposed and amplified entrenched gender discrimination, deepened structural injustices, and accelerated patterns of interpersonal violence. Natia Navrouzov, a Yazidi lawyer and head of the NGO Yazda based in Duhok with offices in Sinjar, underscored the compounded impact of conflict and violence in the Middle East in exacerbating mental health crises among affected communities. She noted that the ongoing bombardment across the Kurdistan Region has forced her organisation to suspend all field activities, further limiting access to already scarce psychosocial support services.

Despite the many obstacles impeding the these reforms’ implementation – particularly the rise of Islamist influence since the emergence of ISIS in 2014 – women in the Kurdistan region continue to push boundaries and defend their rights. Hana and Natia are two of the visible and courageous examples of this determination.

Women’s achievements in Syria

In Syrian Kurdistan, Rojava, women have also played a decisive role in defeating ISIS, notably during the battles of Raqqa and Kobane. Beyond the battlefield, they have been central to the governance of the Autonomous Administration of North and East Syria (AANES) for nearly a decade. Women helped embed gender equality in political and social institutions and supported legal reforms that abolished polygamy, early marriage and certain inequalities in inheritance previously justified through religious interpretations. Under their influence, the co-presidency system – requiring that a man and a woman share political leadership – has become an established principle, not only in Syrian Kurdistan but also within some Kurdish political structures in Turkey.

These achievements are now under serious threat. The Syrian regime launched an offensive this January that resulted in massacres and the occupation of large parts of the Kurdish autonomous region. Nevertheless, women continue to mobilise to protect their political gains. Their vigilance is reinforced by concerns that their institutions may be absorbed into the Syrian governmental system under the agreement reached on 29 January between Ahmed al-Sharaa, Syrian president and a former jihadist, and the Syrian Democratic Forces led by General Mazloum Abdi.

Women’s concerns extend far beyond questions of equality and human rights; they are central to sustainable peacebuilding and long-term security. At a conference held on 2 March at the French Senate in Paris (organised by the Kurdish Institute of Paris), Kurdish journalist Ronahi Hassan from Rojava underscored this urgency, stating: ‘At a time when the region faces renewed instability and extremist threats, the preservation of decentralised governance and institutionalised gender representation is not only a matter of Kurdish rights, but a cornerstone of international security.’

Model of empowerment in Turkey

In Turkey, the Kurdish women’s movement has also made remarkable progress in advancing gender equality, particularly within political and military contexts. Emerging in response to widespread violence, systemic discrimination and the broader dynamics of the conflict with the Turkish state, Kurdish feminists have developed their own model of empowerment, introducing co-leadership systems within political parties and councils, and ensuring that women share decision-making equally with men. In military organisations associated with the feminist movement, women now occupy leadership positions and participate in strategic planning, challenging traditional gender hierarchies and social expectations.

Kurdish women have also confronted deeply rooted feudal and patriarchal norms within their society, promoting women’s autonomy and resisting domestic and community violence. Their initiative has included addressing gaps within the broader Turkish feminist movement, advocating for peace and intersectional approaches that recognise ethnic and political marginalisation. Its influence now extends beyond Kurdistan, inspiring similar initiatives across the wider Middle East (3).

Iran’s Woman, Life, Freedom movement

In Iran, Kurdish women became the driving force behind the Jin, Jiyan, Azadî (‘Woman, Life, Freedom’) movement following the killing of the Kurdish student Jina Mahsa Amini in 2022. For many Kurds, this slogan has become a universal call for dignity and freedom. The movement quickly transcended ethnic boundaries within Iran and challenged the authority of the ruling regime, and went on to become a global symbol of resistance and emancipation. Sahar Bagheri, researcher at the IRIS laboratory in Paris, reflects on this struggle in Rojhelat (Kurdistan of Iran) saying: ‘The struggle of Kurdish women is fundamentally feminist, rooted in the defence of our bodily autonomy and our land as inseparable sites of resistance.’ She adds: ‘As Kurdish women, we remain steadfast in our commitment to Jin, Jiyan, Azadî, asserting ourselves as active political subjects. Our resistance challenges both patriarchal domination and colonial power, insisting that women’s liberation is inseparable from collective self-determination.’

The above examples show that Kurds are not ‘separatist militias’ seeking to challenge borders inherited from 20th-century colonial arrangements, as some recent narratives have suggested. On the contrary, they are well organised actors representing a significant potential for democratic progress and building societies grounded in freedom, equality and universal human rights. These principles stand in stark contrast to the ideological extremism and radical Islamist currents that have destabilised much of the Middle East since the establishment of the Islamic Republic of Iran.

Nor should Kurds be reduced to a simplistic image of ‘brave warriors’. Instead the international community ought to recognise the values they strive to defend and implement whenever political space allows.

Yanar’s assassination is a stark reminder that democracy remains fragile and that the pursuit of emancipation can provoke new forms of repression and domination. In this context, recognising the strategic importance of women’s struggle for freedom, equality and human dignity is not just a symbolic gesture.Email

Nazand Begikhani is a poet and Vincent Wright Chair and Lecturer at Sciences Po, Paris.

Tuesday, April 07, 2026

Two killed in drone attack in Iraqi Kurdistan

07.04.2026, DPA


Photo: Ismael Adnan/dpa



Two people were killed in a drone attack in Iraq's northern autonomous region of Kurdistan, the region's Prime Minister Masrour Barzani said on Tuesday.

He said that one member of the Iraqi Kurdish Peshmerga security forces and his wife were killed after a drone attack on their home in Erbil city.

"I condemn this heinous crime in the strongest terms and denounce its perpetrators. The targeting of civilians and civilian homes is a war crime," Barzani wrote on X.

Erbil Governor Omed Khoshnaw said that the city has been targeted for more than 10 drone attacks since Monday evening, which caused material damage to people's property due to falling debris across the city.

Erbil is home to a multinational base where soldiers from the United States and Germany are stationed.

Authorities in Kurdistan have previously pledged neutrality in the ongoing US-Israeli war with Iran. Both Iran and pro-Iranian militias in Iraq have claimed responsibility for attacks on the Kurdish region. Iranian forces have also struck Iranian Kurdish groups in neighbouring Iraq.

Earlier on Tuesday, Iraq's Hashd Shaabi, an Iranian-aligned militia, said that one of their fighters was killed in an attack targeting their brigade in the al-Qaem district of the western Anbar province, the official INA news agency reported.

The Hashd Shaabi, also known as the Popular Mobilization Forces (PMF), described the attack as "a treacherous Zionist-American attack."

The militia played a key role in the fight against Islamic State between 2014 and 2017, and continues to operate alongside Iraqi security forces.

Wednesday, March 18, 2026


Is Trump’s Iran War the US Version of the Suez Crisis?

The crisis saw Britain’s aura of imperial power had evaporated, and its global empire headed for extinction. Trump may have similarly hastened US decline.


Iranian military personnel take part in an exercise titled “Smart Control of the Strait of Hormuz,” launched by the Naval Forces of the Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps, which is being carried out in the Persian Gulf and the Strait of Hormuz on February 16, 2026.
(Photo by Press Office of Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps / Handout/Anadolu via Getty Images)

Alfred W. Mccoy
Mar 17, 2026
TomDispatch


In the first chapter of his 1874 novel The Gilded Age, Mark Twain offered a telling observation about the connection between past and present: “History never repeats itself, but the… present often seems to be constructed out of the broken fragments of antique legends.”

Among the “antique legends” most helpful in understanding the likely outcome of the current US intervention in Iran is the Suez Crisis of 1956, which I describe in my new book Cold War on Five Continents. After Egyptian leader Gamal Abdel Nasser nationalized the Suez Canal in July 1956, a joint British-French armada of six aircraft carriers destroyed Egypt’s air force, while Israeli troops smashed Egyptian tanks in the sands of the Sinai Peninsula. Within less than a week of war, Nasser had lost his strategic forces and Egypt seemed helpless before the overwhelming might of that massive imperial juggernaut.

But by the time Anglo-French forces came storming ashore at the north end of the Suez Canal, Nasser had executed a geopolitical masterstroke by sinking dozens of rusting ships filled with rocks at the canal’s northern entrance. In doing so, he automatically cut off Europe’s lifeline to its oil fields in the Persian Gulf. By the time British forces retreated in defeat from Suez, Britain had been sanctioned at the United Nations, its currency was at the brink of collapse, its aura of imperial power had evaporated, and its global empire was heading for extinction.

Historians now refer to the phenomenon of a dying empire launching a desperate military intervention to recover its fading imperial glory as “micro-militarism.” And coming in the wake of imperial Washington’s receding influence over the broad Eurasian land mass, the recent US military assault on Iran is starting to look like an American version of just such micro-militarism.

Washington’s fading influence across Eurasia will undoubtedly prove catalytic for the emergence of a new world order, which is likely to move far beyond the old order of US global hegemony.

Even if history never truly repeats itself, right now it seems all too appropriate to wonder whether the current US intervention in Iran might indeed be America’s version of the Suez Crisis. And should Washington’s attempt at regime change in Tehran somehow “succeed,” don’t for a second think that the result will be a successfully stable new government that will be able to serve its people well.
70 Years of Regime Change

Let’s return to the historical record to uncover the likely consequences of regime change in Iran. Over the past 70 years, Washington has made repeated attempts at regime change across the span of five continents—initially via CIA covert action during the 44 years of the Cold War and, in the decades since the end of that global conflict, through conventional military operations. Although the methods have changed, the results—plunging the affected societies into decades of searing social conflict and incessant political instability—have been sadly similar. This pattern can be seen in a few of the CIA’s most famous covert interventions during the Cold War.

In 1953, Iran’s new parliament decided to nationalize the British imperial oil concession there to fund social services for its emerging democracy. In response, a joint CIA-MI6 coup ousted the reformist prime minister and installed the son of the long-deposed former Shah in power. Unfortunately for the Iranian people, he proved to be a strikingly inept leader who transformed his country’s oil wealth into mass poverty—thereby precipitating Iran’s 1979 Islamic revolution.

By 1954, Guatemala was implementing an historic land reform program that was investing its mostly Mayan Indigenous population with the requisites for full citizenship. Unfortunately, a CIA-sponsored invasion installed a brutal military dictatorship, plunging the country into 30 years of civil war that left 200,000 people dead in a population of only 5 million.

External intervention, whether covert or open, seems to invariably be the equivalent of hitting an antique pocket watch with a hammer and then trying to squeeze all its gears and springs back into place.

Similarly, in 1960, the Congo had emerged from a century of brutal Belgian colonial rule by electing a charismatic leader, Patrice Lumumba. But the CIA soon ousted him from power, replacing him with Joseph Mobutu, a military dictator whose 30 years of kleptocracy precipitated violence that led to the deaths of more than 5 million people in the Second Congo War (1998-2003) and continues to take a toll to this day.

In more recent decades, there have been similarly dismal outcomes from Washington’s attempts at regime change via conventional military operations. After the September 2001 terrorist attacks, US forces toppled the Taliban regime in Afghanistan. Over the next 20 years, Washington spent $2.3 trillion—and no, that “trillion” is not a misprint!—in a failed nation-building effort that was swept away when the resurgent Taliban captured the capital, Kabul, in August 2021, plunging the country into a mix of harsh patriarchy and mass privation.

In 2003, Washington invaded Iraq in search of nonexistent nuclear weapons and sank into the quagmire of a 15-year war that led to the slaughter of a million people and left behind an autocratic government that became little more than an Iranian client state. And in 2011, the US led a NATO air campaign that toppled Colonel Muammar Gaddafi’s radical regime in Libya, precipitating seven years of civil war and ultimately leaving that country divided between two antagonistic failed states.

When Washington’s attempts at regime change fail, as they did in Cuba in 1961 and in Venezuela last year, that failure often leaves autocratic regimes even more entrenched, with their control over the country’s secret police strengthened and an ever-tighter death grip on the country’s economy.

Why, you might wonder, do such US interventions invariably seem to produce such dismal results? For societies struggling to achieve a fragile social stability amid volatile political change, external intervention, whether covert or open, seems to invariably be the equivalent of hitting an antique pocket watch with a hammer and then trying to squeeze all its gears and springs back into place.
The Iran War’s Geopolitical Consequences

By exploring the geopolitical implications of Washington’s latest intervention in Iran, it’s possible to imagine how President Donald Trump’s war of choice might well become Washington’s very own version of the Suez crisis.

Just as Egypt snatched a diplomatic victory from the jaws of military defeat in 1956 by shutting the Suez Canal, so Iran has now closed off the Middle East’s other critical choke point by firing its Shahed drones at five freighters in the Straits of Hormuz (through which 20% of global crude oil and natural gas regularly passes) and at petroleum refineries on the southern shore of the Persian Gulf. Iran’s drone strikes have blocked more than 90% of tanker departures from the Persian Gulf and shut down the massive Qatari refineries that produce 20% of the world supply of liquafied natural gas, sending natural gas prices soaring by 50% in much of the world and by 91% in Asia—with the price of gasoline in the US heading for $4 a gallon and the cost of oil likely to reach a staggering $150 per barrel in the near future. Moreover, through the conversion of natural gas to fertilizer, the Persian Gulf is the source for nearly half the world’s agricultural nutrients, with prices soaring by 37% for urea fertilizer in markets like Egypt and threatening both spring planting in the Northern Hemisphere and food security in the Global South.

The extraordinary concentration of petroleum production, international shipping, and capital investment in the Persian Gulf makes the Straits of Hormuz not only a choke point for the flow of oil and natural gas but also for the movement of capital for the entire global economy. To begin with the basics, the Persian Gulf holds about 50% of the world’s proven oil reserves, estimated at 859 billion barrels or, at current prices, about $86 trillion.

Time is not on Washington’s side if this war drags on for more than a few weeks.

To give you an idea of the scale of capital concentration in the region’s infrastructure, the national oil companies of the Gulf Cooperation Council invested $125 billion in their production facilities in 2025 alone, with plans to continue at that rate for the foreseeable future. To keep the global oil tanker fleet of 7,500 vessels that largely serves the Persian Gulf afloat, it costs nearly $100 million for a single large “Suezmax” tanker—of which there are about 900 normally on the high seas, worth a combined $90 billion (with frequent replacements required by the corrosion of steel in harsh maritime conditions). Moreover, Dubai has the world’s busiest international airport at the center of a global network with 450,000 flights annually—now shut down by Iranian drone strikes.

Despite all the White House media hype about the terrible swift sword of America’s recent airstrikes, the 3,000 US-Israeli bombing runs against Iran (which is two-thirds the size of Western Europe) in the war’s first week pale before the 1,400,000 bombing sorties over Europe during World War II. The striking contrast between those numbers makes the current US air attacks on Iran seem, from a strategic perspective, like shooting at an elephant with a BB gun.

Moreover, the US has limited stocks of about 4,000 interceptor missiles, which cost up to $12 million each and can’t be rapidly mass-produced. By contrast, Iran has an almost limitless supply of some 80,000 Shahed drones, 10,000 of which it can produce each month for only $20,000 each. In effect, time is not on Washington’s side if this war drags on for more than a few weeks.

Indeed, in a recent interview, pressed about the possibility that Iran’s vast flotilla of slow, low-flying Shahed drones might soon exhaust the US supply of sophisticated interceptor missiles, Pentagon leader General Dan Caine was surprisingly evasive, saying only, “I don’t want to be talking about quantities.”
Whose Boots on the Ground?

While economic and military pressures build for a shorter war, Washington is trying to avoid sending troops ashore by mobilizing Iran’s ethnic minorities, who make up about 40% of that country’s population. As the Pentagon is silently but painfully aware, US ground forces would face formidable resistance from a million-strong Basij militia, 150,000 Revolutionary Guards (who are well-trained for asymmetric guerrilla warfare), and Iran’s 350,000 regular army troops.

With other ethnic groups (like the Azeris in the north) unwilling or (like the Baloch tribes in the southeast, far from the capital) unable to attack Tehran, Washington is desperate to play its Kurdish card, just as it has done for the past 50 years. With a population of 10 million astride the highland borders of Syria, Turkey, Iraq, and Iran, the Kurds are the largest ethnic group in the Middle East without their own state. As such, they have long been forced to play the imperial Great Game, making them a surprisingly sensitive bellwether for larger changes in imperial influence.

Since the rise of Donald Trump’s America First foreign policy in 2016, major and medium powers along that entire Eurasian rimland have been actively disengaging from US influence.

Although President Trump made personal calls to the top leaders in Iraq’s Kurdistan region during the first week of the latest war, offering them “extensive US aircover” for an attack on Iran, and the US even has a military airbase at Erbil, Kurdistan’s capital, the Kurds are so far proving uncharacteristically cautious.

Indeed, Washington has a long history of using and abusing Kurdish fighters, dating back to the days of Secretary of State Henry Kissinger, who turned their betrayal into a diplomatic art form. After he ordered the CIA to stop aiding the Iraqi Kurdish resistance to Saddam Hussein in 1975, Kissinger told an aide, “Promise them anything, give them what they get, and f… them if they can’t take a joke.”

As Iraqi forces fought their way into Kurdistan, killing helpless Kurds by the hundreds, their legendary leader Mustafa Barzani, grandfather of the current head of Iraqi Kurdistan, pleaded with Kissinger, saying, “Your Excellency, the United States has a moral and political responsibility to our people.” Kissinger did not even dignify that desperate plea with a reply and instead told Congress, “Covert action should not be confused with missionary work.”

Last January, in an amazingly ill-timed decision, the Trump White House betrayed the Kurds one time too many, breaking Washington’s decade-long alliance with the Syrian Kurds by forcing them to give up 80% of their occupied territory. In southeastern Turkey, the radical Kurdish PKK Party has made a deal with Prime Minister Recep Erdoğan and is actually disarming, while Iraq’s Kurdistan region is staying out of the war by respecting a 2023 diplomatic entente with Tehran for a peaceful Iran-Iraq border. President Trump has called at least one leader of the Iranian Kurds, who constitute about 10% of Iran’s population, to encourage an armed uprising. But most Iranian Kurds seem more interested in regional autonomy than regime change.

As Trump’s calls upon the Kurds to attack and the Iranian people to rise up are met with an eloquent silence, Washington is likely to end this war with Iran’s Islamic regime only furthe

r entrenched, showing the world that America is not just a disruptive power, but a fading one that other nations can do without. Over the past 100-plus years, the Iranian people have mobilized six times in attempts to establish a real democracy. At this point, though, it seems as if any seventh attempt will come long after the current US naval armada has left the Arabian Sea.
From the Granular to the Geopolitical

If we move beyond this granular view of Iran’s ethnic politics to a broader geo-strategic perspective on the Iran war, Washington’s waning influence in the hills of Kurdistan seems to reflect its fading geopolitical influence across the vast Eurasian land mass, which remains today the epicenter of geopolitical power, as it has been for the past 500 years.

For nearly 80 years, the United States has maintained its global hegemony by controlling the axial ends of Eurasia through its NATO alliance in Western Europe and four bilateral defense pacts along the Pacific littoral from Japan to Australia. But now, as Washington focuses more of its foreign policy on the Western Hemisphere, US influence is fading fast along the vast arc of Eurasia stretching from Poland, through the Middle East to Korea that scholars of geopolitics like Sir Halford Mackinder and Nicholas Spykman once dubbed the “rimland” or “the zone of conflict.” As Spykman put it succinctly once upon a time, “Who controls the Rimland rules Eurasia; who rules Eurasia controls the destinies of the world.”

Just as Sir Anthony Eden is remembered ruefully today in the United Kingdom as the inept prime minister who destroyed the British Empire at Suez, so future historians may see Donald Trump as the president who degraded US international influence.

Since the rise of Donald Trump’s America First foreign policy in 2016, major and medium powers along that entire Eurasian rimland have been actively disengaging from US influence—including Europe (by rearming), Russia (by challenging the West in Ukraine), Turkey (by remaining neutral in the present war), Pakistan (by allying with China), India (by breaking with Washington’s Quad alliance), and Japan (by rearming to create an autonomous defense policy). That ongoing disengagement is manifest in the lack of support for the Iran intervention, even from once-close European and Asian allies—a striking contrast with the broad coalitions that joined US forces in the 1991 Gulf War and the occupation of Afghanistan in 2002. With Trump’s micro-militarism in Iran inadvertently but clearly exposing the limits of American power, Washington’s fading influence across Eurasia will undoubtedly prove catalytic for the emergence of a new world order, which is likely to move far beyond the old order of US global hegemony.

Just as Sir Anthony Eden is remembered ruefully today in the United Kingdom as the inept prime minister who destroyed the British Empire at Suez, so future historians may see Donald Trump as the president who degraded US international influence with, among other things, his micro-military misadventure in the Middle East. As empires rise and fall, such geopolitics clearly remains a constant factor in shaping their fate–a lesson I try to teach in Cold War on Five Continents.

In difficult times like these, when events seem both confused and confusing, Mark Twain’s “broken fragments of antique legends” can remind us of historical analogies like the collapse of the power and influence of Great Britain or of the Soviet Union that can help us understand how the past often whispers to the present—as it indeed seems to be doing these days in the Straits of Hormuz.

© 2023 TomDispatch.com


Alfred W. Mccoy
Alfred W. McCoy is professor of history at the University of Wisconsin-Madison is the author of "In the Shadows of the American Century: The Rise and Decline of U.S. Global Power". Previous books include: "Torture and Impunity: The U.S. Doctrine of Coercive Interrogation" (University of Wisconsin, 2012), "A Question of Torture: CIA Interrogation, from the Cold War to the War on Terror (American Empire Project)", "Policing America's Empire: The United States, the Philippines, and the Rise of the Surveillance State", and "The Politics of Heroin: CIA Complicity in the Global Drug Trade".
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Monday, March 16, 2026

Imperial Decline in the Straits of Hormuz

 March 16, 2026

Strait of Hormuz, Google Maps.

In the first chapter of his 1874 novel The Gilded Age, Mark Twain offered a telling observation about the connection between past and present: “History never repeats itself, but the… present often seems to be constructed out of the broken fragments of antique legends.”

Among the “antique legends” most helpful in understanding the likely outcome of the current U.S. intervention in Iran is the Suez Crisis of 1956, which I describe in my new book Cold War on Five Continents. After Egyptian leader Gamal Abdel Nasser nationalized the Suez Canal in July 1956, a joint British-French armada of six aircraft carriers destroyed Egypt’s air force, while Israeli troops smashed Egyptian tanks in the sands of the Sinai Peninsula. Within less than a week of war, Nasser had lost his strategic forces and Egypt seemed helpless before the overwhelming might of that massive imperial juggernaut.

But by the time Anglo-French forces came storming ashore at the north end of the Suez Canal, Nasser had executed a geopolitical masterstroke by sinking dozens of rusting ships filled with rocks at the canal’s northern entrance. In doing so, he automatically cut off Europe’s lifeline to its oil fields in the Persian Gulf. By the time British forces retreated in defeat from Suez, Britain had been sanctioned at the U.N., its currency was at the brink of collapse, its aura of imperial power had evaporated, and its global empire was heading for extinction.

Historians now refer to the phenomenon of a dying empire launching a desperate military intervention to recover its fading imperial glory as “micro-militarism.” And coming in the wake of imperial Washington’s receding influence over the broad Eurasian land mass, the recent U.S. military assault on Iran is starting to look like an American version of just such micro-militarism.

Even if history never truly repeats itself, right now it seems all too appropriate to wonder whether the current U.S. intervention in Iran might indeed be America’s version of the Suez Crisis. And should Washington’s attempt at regime change in Tehran somehow “succeed,” don’t for a second think that the result will be a successfully stable new government that will be able to serve its people well.

70 Years of Regime Change

Let’s return to the historical record to uncover the likely consequences of regime change in Iran. Over the past 70 years, Washington has made repeated attempts at regime change across the span of five continents — initially via CIA covert action during the 44 years of the Cold War and, in the decades since the end of that global conflict, through conventional military operations. Although the methods have changed, the results — plunging the affected societies into decades of searing social conflict and incessant political instability — have been sadly similar. This pattern can be seen in a few of the CIA’s most famous covert interventions during the Cold War.

In 1953, Iran’s new parliament decided to nationalize the British imperial oil concession there to fund social services for its emerging democracy. In response, a joint CIA-MI6 coup ousted the reformist prime minister and installed the son of the long-deposed former Shah in power. Unfortunately for the Iranian people, he proved to be a strikingly inept leader who transformed his country’s oil wealth into mass poverty — thereby precipitating Iran’s 1979 Islamic revolution.

By 1954, Guatemala was implementing an historic land reform program that was investing its mostly Mayan indigenous population with the requisites for full citizenship. Unfortunately, a CIA-sponsored invasion installed a brutal military dictatorship, plunging the country into 30 years of civil war that left 200,000 people dead in a population of only five million.

Similarly, in 1960, the Congo had emerged from a century of brutal Belgian colonial rule by electing a charismatic leader, Patrice Lumumba. But the CIA soon ousted him from power, replacing him with Joseph Mobutu, a military dictator whose 30 years of kleptocracy precipitated violence that led to the deaths of more than five million people in the Second Congo War (1998-2003) and continues to take a toll to this day.

In more recent decades, there have been similarly dismal outcomes from Washington’s attempts at regime change via conventional military operations. After the September 2001 terrorist attacks, U.S. forces toppled the Taliban regime in Afghanistan. Over the next 20 years, Washington spent $2.3 trillion — and no, that “trillion” is not a misprint! — in a failed nation-building effort that was swept away when the resurgent Taliban captured the capital, Kabul, in August 2021, plunging the country into a mix of harsh patriarchy and mass privation.

In 2003, Washington invaded Iraq in search of nonexistent nuclear weapons and sank into the quagmire of a 15-year war that led to the slaughter of a million people and left behind an autocratic government that became little more than an Iranian client state. And in 2011, the U.S. led a NATO air campaign that toppled Colonel Muammar Gaddafi’s radical regime in Libya, precipitating seven years of civil war and ultimately leaving that country divided between two antagonistic failed states.

When Washington’s attempts at regime change fail, as they did in Cuba in 1961 and in Venezuela last year, that failure often leaves autocratic regimes even more entrenched, with their control over the country’s secret police strengthened and an ever-tighter death grip on the country’s economy.

Why, you might wonder, do such U.S. interventions invariably seem to produce such dismal results? For societies struggling to achieve a fragile social stability amid volatile political change, external intervention, whether covert or open, seems to invariably be the equivalent of hitting an antique pocket watch with a hammer and then trying to squeeze all its gears and springs back into place.

The Iran War’s Geopolitical Consequences

By exploring the geopolitical implications of Washington’s latest intervention in Iran, it’s possible to imagine how President Donald Trump’s war of choice might well become Washington’s very own version of the Suez crisis.

Just as Egypt snatched a diplomatic victory from the jaws of military defeat in 1956 by shutting the Suez Canal, so Iran has now closed off the Middle East’s other critical choke point by firing its Shahed drones at five freighters in the Straits of Hormuz (through which 20% of global crude oil and natural gas regularly passes) and at petroleum refineries on the southern shore of the Persian Gulf. Iran’s drone strikes have blocked more than 90% of tanker departures from the Persian Gulf and shut down the massive Qatari refineries that produce 20% of the world supply of Liquified Natural Gas, sending natural gas prices soaring by 50% in much of the world and by 91% in Asia — with the price of gasoline in the U.S. heading for $4 a gallon and the cost of oil likely to reach a staggering $150 per barrel in the near future. Moreover, through the conversion of natural gas to fertilizer, the Persian Gulf is the source for nearly half the world’s agricultural nutrients, with prices soaring by 37% for urea fertilizer in markets like Egypt and threatening both spring planting in the northern hemisphere and food security in the global south.

The extraordinary concentration of petroleum production, international shipping, and capital investment in the Persian Gulf makes the Straits of Hormuz not only a choke point for the flow of oil and natural gas but also for the movement of capital for the entire global economy. To begin with the basics, the Persian Gulf holds about 50% of the world’s proven oil reserves, estimated at 859 billion barrels or, at current prices, about $86 trillion.

To give you an idea of the scale of capital concentration in the region’s infrastructure, the national oil companies of the Gulf Cooperation Council invested $125 billion in their production facilities in 2025 alone, with plans to continue at that rate for the foreseeable future. To keep the global oil tanker fleet of 7,500 vessels that largely serves the Persian Gulf afloat, it costs nearly $100 million for a single large “Suezmax” tanker — of which there are about 900 normally on the high seas, worth a combined $90 billion (with frequent replacements required by the corrosion of steel in harsh maritime conditions). Moreover, Dubai has the world’s busiest international airport at the center of a global network with 450,000 flights annually — now shut down by Iranian drone strikes.

Despite all the White House media hype about the terrible swift sword of America’s recent airstrikes, the 3,000 U.S.-Israeli bombing runs against Iran (which is two-thirds the size of Western Europe) in the war’s first week pale before the 1,400,000 bombing sorties over Europe during World War II. The striking contrast between those numbers makes the current U.S. air attacks on Iran seem, from a strategic perspective, like shooting at an elephant with a BB gun.

Moreover, the U.S. has limited stocks of about 4,000 interceptor missiles, which cost up to $12 million each and can’t be rapidly mass-produced. By contrast, Iran has an almost limitless supply of some 80,000 Shahed drones, 10,000 of which it can produce each month for only $20,000 each. In effect, time is not on Washington’s side if this war drags on for more than a few weeks.

Indeed, in a recent interview, pressed about the possibility that Iran’s vast flotilla of slow, low-flying Shahed drones might soon exhaust the U.S. supply of sophisticated interceptor missiles, Pentagon leader General Dan Caine was surprisingly evasive, saying only, “I don’t want to be talking about quantities.”

Whose Boots on the Ground?

While economic and military pressures build for a shorter war, Washington is trying to avoid sending troops ashore by mobilizing Iran’s ethnic minorities, who make up about 40% of that country’s population. As the Pentagon is silently but painfully aware, U.S. ground forces would face formidable resistance from a million-strong Basij militia, 150,000 Revolutionary Guards (who are well-trained for asymmetric guerrilla warfare), and Iran’s 350,000 regular army troops.

With other ethnic groups (like the Azeris in the north) unwilling or (like the Baloch tribes in the southeast, far from the capital) unable to attack Tehran, Washington is desperate to play its Kurdish card, just as it has done for the past 50 years. With a population of 10 million astride the highland borders of Syria, Turkey, Iraq, and Iran, the Kurds are the largest ethnic group in the Middle East without their own state. As such, they have long been forced to play the imperial Great Game, making them a surprisingly sensitive bellwether for larger changes in imperial influence.

Although President Trump made personal calls to the top leaders in Iraq’s Kurdistan region during the first week of the latest war, offering them “extensive U.S. aircover” for an attack on Iran, and the U.S. even has a military airbase at Erbil, Kurdistan’s capital, the Kurds are so far proving uncharacteristically cautious.

Indeed, Washington has a long history of using and abusing Kurdish fighters, dating back to the days of Secretary of State Henry Kissinger, who turned their betrayal into a diplomatic art form. After he ordered the CIA to stop aiding the Iraqi Kurdish resistance to Saddam Hussein in 1975, Kissinger told an aide: “Promise them anything, give them what they get, and f… them if they can’t take a joke.”

As Iraqi forces fought their way into Kurdistan, killing helpless Kurds by the hundreds, their legendary leader Mustafa Barzani, grandfather of the current head of Iraqi Kurdistan, pleaded with Kissinger, saying, “Your Excellency, the United States has a moral and political responsibility to our people.” Kissinger did not even dignify that desperate plea with a reply and instead told Congress: “Covert action should not be confused with missionary work.”

Last January, in an amazingly ill-timed decision, the Trump White House betrayed the Kurds one time too many, breaking Washington’s decade-long alliance with the Syrian Kurds by forcing them to give up 80% of their occupied territory. In southeastern Turkey, the radical Kurdish PKK Party has made a deal with Prime Minister Recep Erdoğan and is actually disarming, while Iraq’s Kurdistan region is staying out of the war by respecting a 2023 diplomatic entente with Tehran for a peaceful Iran-Iraq border. President Trump has called at least one leader of the Iranian Kurds, who constitute about 10% of Iran’s population, to encourage an armed uprising. But most Iranian Kurds seem more interested in regional autonomy than regime change.

As Trump’s calls upon the Kurds to attack and the Iranian people to rise up are met with an eloquent silence, Washington is likely to end this war with Iran’s Islamic regime only further entrenched, showing the world that America is not just a disruptive power, but a fading one that other nations can do without. Over the past 100-plus years, the Iranian people have mobilized six times in attempts to establish a real democracy. At this point, though, it seems as if any seventh attempt will come long after the current U.S. naval armada has left the Arabian Sea.

From the Granular to the Geopolitical

If we move beyond this granular view of Iran’s ethnic politics to a broader geo-strategic perspective on the Iran war, Washington’s waning influence in the hills of Kurdistan seems to reflect its fading geopolitical influence across the vast Eurasian land mass, which remains today the epicenter of geopolitical power, as it has been for the past 500 years.

For nearly 80 years, the United States has maintained its global hegemony by controlling the axial ends of Eurasia through its NATO alliance in Western Europe and four bilateral defense pacts along the Pacific littoral from Japan to Australia. But now, as Washington focuses more of its foreign policy on the Western Hemisphere, U.S. influence is fading fast along the vast arc of Eurasia stretching from Poland, through the Middle East to Korea that scholars of geopolitics like Sir Halford Mackinder and Nicholas Spykman once dubbed the “rimland” or “the zone of conflict.” As Spykman put it succinctly once upon a time: “Who controls the Rimland rules Eurasia; who rules Eurasia controls the destinies of the world.”

Since the rise of Donald Trump’s America First foreign policy in 2016, major and medium powers along that entire Eurasian rimland have been actively disengaging from U.S. influence — including Europe (by rearming), Russia (by challenging the West in Ukraine), Turkey (by remaining neutral in the present war), Pakistan (by allying with China), India (by breaking with Washington’s Quad alliance), and Japan (by rearming to create an autonomous defense policy). That ongoing disengagement is manifest in the lack of support for the Iran intervention, even from once-close European and Asian allies — a striking contrast with the broad coalitions that joined U.S. forces in the 1991 Gulf War and the occupation of Afghanistan in 2002. With Trump’s micro-militarism in Iran inadvertently but clearly exposing the limits of American power, Washington’s fading influence across Eurasia will undoubtedly prove catalytic for the emergence of a new world order, which is likely to move far beyond the old order of U.S. global hegemony.

Just as Sir Anthony Eden is remembered ruefully today in the United Kingdom as the inept prime minister who destroyed the British Empire at Suez, so future historians may see Donald Trump as the president who degraded U.S. international influence with, among other things, his micro-military misadventure in the Middle East. As empires rise and fall, such geopolitics clearly remains a constant factor in shaping their fate –- a lesson I try to teach in Cold War on Five Continents.

In difficult times like these, when events seem both confused and confusing, Mark Twain’s “broken fragments of antique legends” can remind us of historical analogies like the collapse of the power and influence of Great Britain or of the Soviet Union that can help us understand how the past often whispers to the present — as it indeed seems to be doing these days in the Straits of Hormuz.

Existential Attrition: Iran’s Closure of the Strait of Hormuz


 March 16, 2026


The Strait showing maritime political boundaries and shipping lanes – Public Domain

“The geopolitical genie is out of the bottle: by capitalizing on geography to disrupt global trade, countries can strengthen their strategic position at relatively low cost.”

– Alex Mills, The Atlantic Council, March 12, 2026

With each day of glorified actions against Iran, with each cloudy press session claiming supreme success through sheer force, the Trump administration is struggling to keep up appearances.  Through an approach of existential attrition, the clerical regime in Tehran is now causing shocks and tingles in the global market, striking where influence is strongest: the petrol pump, the cash register, the hip pocket.  Its missiles, drones or projectiles may not be able to reach the United States or Australia, but a note of panic is setting in.

Even before shipping was attacked (threats sufficed), the Strait of Hormuz was already being emptied of traffic.  Fearing losses, major shipping firms such as Maersk, Hapag-Lloyd and CMA CGM ceased transiting cargo through the waterways.  Since the war commenced on February 28, transits through the Strait have virtually stopped.  This putative closure imperils the transfer of a fifth of the world’s oil supply, a fifth of the global trade in liquified natural gas, and some 13% of the global share in chemicals, including essential fertilisers.  Freight rates for oil tankers, war risk insurance premiums and costs of marine fuel are all rising steeply.

social media post from Iran’s Foreign Minister Abbas Araghchi brimming with satisfaction captured the mood: “9 days into Operation Epic Mistake, oil prices have doubled while all commodities are skyrocketing.  We know the US is plotting against our oil and nuclear sites in hopes of containing huge inflationary shock. Iran is fully prepared.”  He also promised that Iran had “many surprises in store.”

On March 11, a spokesperson for the Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps (IRGC)’s Khatam al-Anbiya Headquarters resolutely declared that any vessel linked to Israel, the United States or their allies would be “considered a legitimate target”.  He also rejected the effectualness of efforts to suppress price rises.  “You will not be able to artificially lower the price of oil.  Expect oil at $200 per barrel,” he warned.  “The price of oil depends on regional security, and you are the main source of insecurity in the region.”

An effort to halt the rise of the oil price was made with a decision by 32 member states of the International Energy Agency (IEA) to release 400 million barrels of oil.  “This is a major action aiming to alleviate the immediate impacts of the disruption in markets,” IEA Executive Director Fatih Birol explained in his address.  “But to be clear, the most important thing for the return to stable flows of oil and gas is the resumption of transit through the Strait of Hormuz.”

Over March 11 and 12, in what seemed to be an effort to counter this move, the IRGC made good its word, attacking some six vessels, using projectiles and explosive-laden unmanned surface vessels.  Targets included the Marshall Islands-flagged Safesea Vishu and the Malta-flagged Zefyros, both carrying fuel cargoes from Iraq.  The Thai-flagged Mayuree Naree dry bulk vessel was hit by what was described as “two projectiles of unknown origin”.  Mines have also been deployed to further complicate the prospect of transit.

The response from President Donald Trump and his officials to the price rises has been one of unrelenting fantasy.  “The recent increase of oil and gas prices is temporary,” stated White House Press Secretary Karoline Leavitt, “and this operation [attacking Iran] will result in lower gas prices in the long term”.  Energy Secretary Chris Wright was also unjustifiably confident that the price shocks would endure for a matter of “weeks, not months”.

After attending a classified and seemingly confused briefing on the war on March 10, Democratic Senator Chris Murphy from Connecticut was left unimpressed.  “I can’t go into more detail about how Iran gums up the Strait,” he revealed, “but suffice to say, right now, they don’t know how to get it safely back open.”  This was “unforgivable, because this part of the disaster was 100% foreseeable.”  The primary war goal of the administration, as Murphy understood, was “destroying lots of missiles and boats and drone factories.”  Such visionaries.

The Trump credo of estranged reality ignores the growing and enduring consequences of the strait’s closure and the war.  A backlog of tankers on both sides of the waterway is growing.  Ports are becoming congested with overstaying vessels.  Production of oil and gas, impaired by Iranian attacks and continued closure, will have to resume in such states as Qatar, Bahrain, Iraq and Saudi Arabia.  Anas Alhajji, a global energy markets boffin, offers a grim analysis: “Ending the war does not mean ending the crisis.  We have countries that literally shut down production because their storage is full.  To bring back that oil to a pre-crisis level takes time.  For [liquified natural gas] in particular, it takes a very long time.”

Asked on whether vessels should still brave the journey through the Strait of Hormuz, Trump spoke with unfounded optimism.  “I think they should. I think you’re going to see great safety”.  The new round of strikes on shipping by Iran, initiated at a fraction of the cost of the US-Israel campaign against it, coupled with the inexorable rise of prices, suggests otherwise.  In this regard at least, economics may well prove to be destiny.

Binoy Kampmark was a Commonwealth Scholar at Selwyn College, Cambridge. He lectures at RMIT University, Melbourne. Email: bkampmark@gmail.com