Category: U.S.

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The Phantom Invasion of Iran?

Countryside Looking toward Iranian Border – Outside Halabja – Kurdistan

Iran’s greatest weakness may have been the static posture it maintained while its external defense in depth was progressively dismantled. However, that comes with a caveat.

(See my article What Would War with Iran Look Like?

Its regional network through Iraq, Syria, and Lebanon had once resembled a modern strategic ribat, extending Iran’s defensive frontier outward and pushing the battlefield away from Iranian territory. When that network weakened, Tehran remained dependent upon fixed facilities, such as established command structures, hardened positions, and long-range retaliation. This allowed its enemies to determine the tempo and sequence of the war.

That does not mean Iran would remain static if foreign troops entered the country. This is where my caveat comes in. Because a ground invasion would likely activate a different form of defense in depth, Iran could fall back through mountains, cities, and tunnels. This, in turn, could help preserve and fortify its internal-security networks, militias, and other irregular or conventional units. The Iranian state appears suppressed under aerial attack for the time being and likely will be for the foreseeable future. The question, and the concern, is whether, if boots were to hit the ground, Iran would shift from a static defense to a mobile defense in depth.

However, the greatest danger to Tehran may not come from American troops advancing directly toward the capital. Rather, it may come from the interaction between external pressure and internal fragmentation. Kurdish forces and other opposition groups could create disturbances along the periphery, forcing the government to divide its forces and attention. However, Iranian command would know better than to venture out en masse to confront a much smaller enemy. The reason for this is that it would expose Iranian forces to U.S. fighters, drones, bombers, and missiles. More consequentially, factions within the Iranian military, bureaucracy, and political establishment could decide that the survival of the present regime no longer coincides with their own survival. In other words, the regime may lose the faith of the very institutions expected to defend it.

Such internal fragmentation could arise by Iran’s own hand or be encouraged through outside assistance. Understand that foreign black-operations personnel may already be operating inside Iran, supported by a much larger clandestine intelligence system working through the country’s institutions, commercial networks, political factions, and administrative structures. Yet the bureaucracy does not end with the institution. Every person encountered represents a bureaucracy of his own. What do I mean by that? Each person has a network of loyalties, ambitions, grievances, fears, obligations, and personal relationships waiting to be understood and, where possible, exploited.

As for the American presence, it is almost phantom-like. It surrounds Iran without presenting a single conventional army for Iran to confront. It appears through air, sea, and cyber, causing sudden destruction against selected targets. Its physical body remains largely outside Iran, while its effects are felt inside the country. It is not merely a phantom, but a deadly phantom: difficult to locate, difficult to engage, and capable of reaching deep into a state that cannot strike it with equal precision.

The strategic purpose of such a presence is not necessarily to conquer Iran from the outside, but to create the conditions under which Iran begins to conquer itself from within. External attacks weaken the connections holding the state together, peripheral factions generate movement, and political uncertainty forces every component of the system to reconsider where its loyalty and survival truly lie. The decisive moment would arrive not when American troops entered Tehran, but when Tehran could no longer be certain which Iranian forces would defend it.

The broader objective is to cripple Iran. The operational apparatus presently employed is largely air, sea, and cyber. A land campaign may eventually follow, but even the possibility of one can serve as a weapon in itself. The threat of American forces entering the country, combined with Kurdish activity and other pressures along the borders, could force Tehran to look in several directions at once while confronting no single conventional invasion force. In other words, Tehran could be forced to defend against deliberately exaggerated or ambiguous armies that might appear.

While Tehran searches for the physical body of the invasion, the United States can continue striking the systems that serve as the regime’s eyes and ears and enable it to defend itself.

Therefore, a land invasion does not have to occur to produce operational effects. Its possibility alone can compel and expose movement, divide attention, and deepen uncertainty. Iran is forced to defend against something that remains largely absent while absorbing punishment from capabilities that are already present. The phantom is not simply the American force itself, but the invasion that Iran must continually anticipate without knowing whether, where, or when it will materialize.

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China’s Closing Window and the Thucydides Trap in Reverse

Ever since the start of the U.S.-Iran war, or conflict, however one wants to describe it, the situation has placed a tremendous amount of pressure on China. That pressure comes from several directions: tariffs, technological restrictions, energy insecurity involving oil and other resources, and declining access to certain markets.

Because of that, I have started reconsidering the usual way we discuss the Thucydides Trap, or at least the way it is commonly presented.

Now, in no way, shape, or form am I saying that the Thucydides Trap is wrong. The trap is still the trap. I am simply looking at it from a slightly different direction, which I will explain in a moment.

The danger may not come only from an established power fearing the rise of a challenger. That fear may also come from the challenger itself. China’s fear may not simply be that it cannot keep up with the United States. It may be that its own rise is slowing, which in turn creates the impression that its strategic window is closing. If that happens, then its opportunity to achieve its objectives, whatever those objectives may be, could begin to disappear.

Professor Graham Allison uses the term Thucydides Trap to describe the increased likelihood of war when a rising power, such as China, threatens to displace an established power, such as the United States.

However, I personally see it somewhat in reverse—or, rather, as a reversed Thucydides Trap. Frankly, it is still a Thucydides Trap regardless, but the reversal identifies which side of the power transition feels the greatest urgency.

The classic formula is that a rising power threatens an established power, and the resulting fear makes war more likely. However, both sides can experience different versions of the same trap. The established power fears displacement and may act before the challenger becomes unbeatable. At the same time, the rising power may fear that its rise is stalling or reversing and act before its best opportunity disappears.

Those pressures can operate simultaneously. The United States may fear that China will become too powerful if left unchecked. China, however, may fear that containment, tariffs, energy vulnerability, demographic problems, technological restrictions, and other pressures will prevent it from ever reaching its strategic objectives.

Each side interprets delay differently, but dangerously. Washington may believe that waiting strengthens China. Beijing may believe that waiting weakens China.

This is not really a separate trap moving backward. It is the same competitive mechanism closing from different directions.

Another way of putting it is that the Thucydides Trap in reverse occurs when a rising power, such as China, fears that its rise is stalling, its strategic window is closing, and delay will leave it permanently weaker. Instead of war emerging only because an established power fears being overtaken, conflict may also arise when the challenger fears it may never achieve its objectives or realize its true potential. It therefore believes it must act to defend its position before that position deteriorates any further.

In that sense, the trap is reciprocal: the established power fears the challenger’s continued rise, while the challenger fears that its own rise may be arrested before it can achieve its objectives.

In a nutshell: The United States fears the China of tomorrow. China fears it may never reach tomorrow.

Further Reading

China’s oil imports plunge 40 percent, keeping a lid on energy prices

China refineries seek less fuel oil as they opt for cheaper crude, sources say

China’s Crude Imports Plunge to Lowest in Nearly a Decade

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NATO Isn’t Breaking. It’s Being Repriced.

Introduction

On 12 April 2026, President Trump announced a move to close the Strait of Hormuz effectively, but with a twist. This isn’t a literal blockade of all shipping. It’s a coercive strategy aimed at undermining Iran’s ability to control and monetize the strait. However, those in the EU, particularly Britain, do not agree. Sky News quoted a British government spokesperson who stated, “We continue to support freedom of navigation and the opening of the Strait of Hormuz, which is urgently needed to support the global economy and the cost of living back home”, the spokesperson said, according to Sky News. “The Strait of Hormuz must not be subject to tolling”, the official added.

The current tension has put the alliance’s unity to the test.

As the United States is moving toward enforcement. The EU is signaling restraint. The question is whether NATO can hold together under pressure.

That is the wrong question.

Understand that NATO is not on the verge of collapse—at least not yet. It is not even necessarily weakening in the conventional sense. What we are seeing instead is a shift in how the alliance functions under stress.

The issue is not whether allies agree.

It is whether they are willing to pay.

Because beneath unity and cooperation, a more basic dynamic is emerging: Security is no longer assumed. It is being priced.

This is not just a temporary disagreement over Iran, maritime enforcement, or escalation risk. Rather, it is a shift in how alliances work when the costs of keeping things running get unevenly distributed.

The United States is not asking for support.

It is attempting to preserve control over the system that governs the movement of energy, capital, and coercion—and to determine who bears the cost of enforcing it.

Europe, for its part, is trying to preserve that system while limiting its exposure to escalation and domestic political risk.

Those positions overlap.

But they are not the same.

And the gap between them is where the real change is taking place.

Before proceeding, a brief clarification of what is meant here by “the system.”

The system is the U.S.-led framework that keeps global trade, energy flows, and financial exchange functioning. It is an order the United States pays to enforce—and expects others, particularly within NATO, to help sustain rather than free-ride on.

Strategic Level — System Over Solidarity

The United States is not trying to “get Europe to help.”

That framing is too narrow.

What it is trying to preserve is control over the system that governs the movement of energy, capital, and coercion. The Strait of Hormuz is not just a geographic choke point—it is a test of whether that system can still be enforced under pressure.

From Washington’s perspective, Europe supports open sea lanes—but hesitates to enforce them when contested. Washington’s question for the EU or NATO is, “What are you worth?”

The issue shifts from disagreement to imbalance. Imbalance creates uncertainty—and uncertainty sends mixed signals. A system built on credibility, mixed signals become a liability.

The question now becomes: who pays to maintain the system?

U.S. strategy has to shift under those conditions. From alliance cohesion to enforcement; from shared values to cost distribution; and from unity to tiered participation.

This does not mean abandoning the alliance.

It means redefining it in functional terms.

In some respects, this begins to resemble older political structures more than modern alliances. Not in form, but in behavior. A loose collection of states, unequal in capacity and commitment, cooperating when interests align, diverging when costs rise. At times unified, at other times fragmented, they are constantly negotiating their place within the larger system.

The pattern is familiar, but the comparison is not exact.

Operational Level — Coalition, Not Community

Operationally, the alliance is still holding together. But it’s starting to split into different roles — some countries stepping up, others stepping back.

Willingness to act begins to matter more than formal membership.

In practical terms:

1. The core group (U.S., UK, FRA, DEU, etc.) conducts enforcement operations, deterrence, and escalation management.

2. The secondary group (NLD, SVK, HUN, etc.) contributes indirectly through escort missions, intelligence, and stabilization.

3. All others remain politically aligned but operationally absent.

Collapse?

No.

But a task-organized alliance.

Uniform participation?

No.

Selective contribution.

Pay to play, in one sense.

Political Level — Negotiated Obligation

Politically, the shift is visible.

European governments emphasize restraint and legality. The United States emphasizes credibility, deterrence, and enforcement. Both positions are valid and rational within their respective frameworks.

However, those two approaches do not always line up. And when they do not, the whole character of the alliance starts to shift. What used to be treated as firm, agreed-upon obligations are now quietly renegotiated — made conditional, hedged, or even reversible depending on the moment. Support is no longer something you can count on. It gets evaluated, case by case.

Not in the abstract sense — but in terms of cost:

What does this require?

What does this risk?

What does this return?

The alliance begins to resemble a market. Not because countries have become mercenaries, but because the value of commitments is no longer taken for granted.

Economic Level — Coercion Without Participation

The final layer is economic—and it is decisive.

European states may choose to limit their military role. But they cannot opt out of the system’s economic consequences.

Disruptions in Hormuz translate into:

Energy price volatility

Industrial strain

Insurance and shipping cost increases

Even without direct participation, costs are still imposed.

From a U.S. perspective, this creates leverage.

If allies do not contribute to enforcement, they will still experience the consequences of instability—and may be compelled to align through financial, industrial, or regulatory pressure.

In this sense, strategy extends beyond military action.

It becomes systemic.

NATO is not breaking.

NATO is adapting to pressure in a way that reveals something deeper about how alliances function when costs rise.

The question is no longer whether allies agree—it is whether they are willing to contribute, and at what level.

That shift changes the character of the alliance—not in form, but in function.

What was once assumed is now negotiated.

What was once shared is now distributed.

What was once taken for granted now has a price.

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To Kharg, or not to Kharg—that’s the Question. But Kharg is not a solution—it’s a trigger.

For many weeks, there has been a common argument about any operation around Kharg Island that always lands on the same concerns: it’s just too hard, too exposed, too squeezed by the terrain and the Strait. Because of this, drones will fill the sky, and the defender has every advantage; every movement gets funneled into kill zones. So people conclude the whole thing would fall apart under its own weight. It very well could. But the real issue isn’t whether it could fail—it’s what you’re actually fighting.

The issue is that a decision isn’t the same thing as an outcome. Seizing Kharg is just a decision. It’s the outcome that we question. The question that follows is how the whole system responds, as in the day after. The answer, as we see now, is that markets will flip-flop, shipping reroutes, insurance goes nuts, proxies get involved, escalation ladders light up, and perception shifts. Of course, it could stay the way we see it now, or it could draw back or escalate into a whole new beast. You control the move. You don’t control how the system rearranges around it.

Terrain + Geography = Real Constraint

The Strait of Hormuz is narrow, cluttered, and exposed, lying between Iran to the north and Oman’s Musandam Peninsula to the south. According to the IEA (International Energy Agency), it’s between 21 and 24 miles wide at its narrowest point. Despite this, the shipping traffic is constrained to two narrow lanes, each 2 miles wide.

The southern Iranian coast (Persian Gulf/Gulf of Oman) is characterized by a very narrow or non-existent coastal plain. In many areas, the Zagros Mountains fall directly into the sea, forming rocky cliffs and leaving little room for a coastal foothold—if any—and if so, minimal.

And even if a force pushes past the coastline, the terrain does not open up uniformly.

The only area where it meaningfully opens is to the southwest—the Khuzestan Plain, a low-lying, marshy, triangular extension of the Mesopotamian plain that stretches inland before abruptly meeting the Zagros foothills. Khuzestan is a strategically vital province in southwestern Iran, bordering Iraq and the Persian Gulf. It serves as a major industrial and agricultural hub centered on its capital, Ahvaz, one of the core pillars of Iran’s oil-rich economy.

Overall, one has a minimal foothold at best along most of the coast due to the mountains, which provide elevation dominance and interior depth. Even where the terrain opens, it does so in limited and predictable ways. This creates a strong ISR (intelligence, surveillance, and reconnaissance) vantage point.

Now, from an operational point of view, this translates into a few realities, starting with terrain.

Elevated terrain provides clear lines of observation and favors missile and drone launches into the Strait or into any nearby body of water. You factor that in with limited coastal space, which creates difficult amphibious landing conditions, restricting maneuver and concentrating forces into predictable zones. Thus, any force operating near the coastline would likely be continuously observed and targetable from the interior.

In short, this is defender-favorable terrain.

Take maritime insurance, for example. The moment Kharg turns into a battlespace, insurers will second-guess. They’ll either pull coverage completely or jack up war-risk premiums so high that shipping becomes untenable. Traffic will slow and reroute—not because anything has been destroyed yet, but because the system is already bracing for the punch. The effect is immediate and mostly beyond the control of the actors involved. There are always exceptions—but they don’t change the pattern.

The Part People are Missing: It’s an Island System, not an Island

1) The Strait is the real battlefield, not Kharg

The decisive terrain isn’t Kharg—it’s the Strait of Hormuz and the islands that sit inside and around it—whoever controls them controls access, denial, shipping lanes, and escalation leverage. Kharg only matters if the US can operate freely in the Gulf.

2) The actual islands that matter (operationally)

Qeshm Island is the largest island in the Strait and sits right along the Iranian coast. Its mountainous and broken terrain is ideal for missile batteries, drone launch zones, and ISR coverage. Therefore, the operational reality is that one does not bypass Qeshm—you either suppress it or live under it.

To the southwest of Qeshm is the smaller disputed island of Abu Musa. The sovereignty of Abu Musa is under Iranian control, but the United Arab Emirates disputes it. The operational role is to provide early warning, forward fire, and serve as a disruption node. In other words, the island serves as a tripwire + sensor platform.

Between the Qeshm and Abu Musa Islands lie the Greater & Lesser Tunb—choke point enforcers. They sit near the narrowest part of the Strait. These islands are small—but that’s the point. What these smaller islands provide is extended denial coverage. This creates overlapping fires and complicates naval movement. Think of it this way, they’re not big—they’re positional.

3) Why this matters (and why Kharg fixation is wrong)

Most online takes assume: “Hit Kharg and the problem is solved.” But operationally, it’s more like if you try to move into the Strait, you’re under constant missile and drone threat, ISR tracking from multiple islands, not to forget also from the mainland. One may suppress one node, but others still function. One may clear islands, but the mainland still dominates. One may move deeper, but the exposure increases.

The real geometry is not linear—it’s layered.

The outer layer: naval access (Hormuz Strait)

Middle layer: island network (Qeshm, Abu Musa, Tunbs)

Inner layer: mainland fires (mountains + depth)

Final node: Kharg

So Kharg is not the door — it’s the room at the back of the house.

Think in operational terms, not target terms. The correct framing is this isn’t about taking an island—it’s about breaking a defensive system of positions. That system is distributed and mutually supporting. It forces troops into progressive exposure.

Kharg isn’t the objective—it’s the consequence. The real fight is the Strait—an island system backed by a continent.

Overall, whether this remains pressure or turns into action, the geometry doesn’t change.

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Pressure Without Victory: The Strategic Stalemate with Iran

Introduction

This is a follow-up to my last article titled What Would War with Iran Look Like?, published on February 25th, 2026. In that article, I outlined what a conflict with Iran might look like militarily and strategically.

In this somewhat shorter article, I want to examine what has actually been done strategically and tactically since then, among other things. What has become increasingly clear is that pressure campaigns do not necessarily produce strategic collapse. In many respects, they work exactly as intended, yet the outcome remains unresolved.

So let’s first examine the U.S. pressure architecture.

U.S. Pressure Architecture

With any nation the United States puts in the crosshairs, it essentially becomes part of a pressured network. So what do I mean by this? What exactly do I mean by U.S. pressure architecture?

Let’s start with economic pressure. What does the United States do first?

Sanctions.

Sanctions are economic, non-military punishments. Think of them as trade bans, asset freezes, financial transaction blocks, travel restrictions, arms embargoes, or even export controls imposed by one or more countries. This is often led by the United States, the UK, the EU, or the UN against a particular country. So basically, take Iran. You have certain groups or individuals pressuring them into changing their behavior—whether that means stopping aggression, halting a nuclear program, addressing human rights abuses, or ending support for terrorism—without actually going to war.

SWIFT exclusion: if you don’t know what that means, it stands for the Society for Worldwide Interbank Financial Telecommunications. SWIFT basically removes you from the global WhatsApp group that banks use to send each other money. Suddenly, your international payments just bounce with a big “user not found” error.

This brings us to energy export restrictions. An example would be Russia. Because of sanctions, Russia is often forced to sell its oil—especially crude—at steep discounts. Sometimes prices fall $10 to $30 per barrel below global benchmarks like Brent crude because buyers know Russia has fewer options and faces higher risks and costs from sanctions.

And lastly, secondary sanctions.

Secondary sanctions, in a nutshell, are when the United States tells foreign banks and companies worldwide: if you keep doing major business with Russia’s military suppliers or Iran’s oil sector, we’ll cut you off from the U.S. financial system—even if you’re not American and the deal technically has nothing to do with us.

Take Russia again as an example. Outside firms helping Russia’s war economy have been forced to drop deals to avoid losing access to dollars and U.S. markets. For Iran, it’s a classic case of non-U.S. banks having to choose between Iranian oil trade and their U.S. correspondent accounts, massively slashing Iranian export revenues.

This brings us now to military pressure, much of which I discussed in my last article: precision strikes, carrier groups, airpower, and ISR surveillance. That in turn overlaps with cyber and intelligence pressure, including cyber operations, assassinations, intelligence disruption, and infrastructure sabotage.

To make all of this work, the United States usually relies on outside help. When it comes to Iran, Washington has been fairly effective at regional containment through Israel, the Gulf states, maritime patrols, and missile defense networks.

All of these arrows point toward Iran.

Why?

Because the objective is the systemic degradation of Iranian power.

IRAN

This brings us to the article’s target: Iran. When it comes to the Iranian regime, you cannot look at it as a single knot. Rather, think of it as multiple smaller circles connected together and labeled. You have the Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps, the Qods Force (lit. “Jerusalem Force”), the political leadership, the energy economy, the security apparatus, and ideological legitimacy. All of these represent what is essentially a distributed internal structure.

Iran’s Distributed Response

Iran’s distributed response radiates outward rather than pointing inward. Now, what do I mean by that?

Let’s start with the proxy-warfare network they maintain: Hezbollah, Iraqi militias, the Houthis, Syrian militias, and Palestinian groups. Iran has a rather large network of proxies outside its borders that it can rely on. And it is without a doubt that many of these proxies have networks of their own. They also do not have to be kinetic all the time.

Then there is Iran’s economic adaptation: the shadow oil fleet, China trade networks, smuggling routes, and sanctions evasion. All of these have helped fund the Iranian regime and continue to do so.

So what is Iran’s strategic deterrence in all of this? They rely heavily on missiles—lots of them—and drones as well, which allow for maritime disruption. Think of the Strait of Hormuz. Iran still maintains leverage there.

The reason Iran has been so effective overall, and why it has not really been nudged off course, appears to lie in a combination of nationalism, revolutionary ideology, and a deeply entrenched anti-Western narrative.

The bottom line in all of this is that when it comes to Iran, persistent strategic friction is neither victory nor collapse. It is simply continuous pressure and adaptation.

Taliban commanders once made the point clearly: “You have the watches, but we have the time.” Ambassador Ryan Crocker later echoed this sentiment when discussing Afghanistan: “Americans have the watches; the Taliban have the time—we ran out of patience… Failing to be ready to stay the course is a huge problem for American diplomacy.“

The same logic applies to Iran.

The United States and its allies may have the watches, but Iran has the time. They have been waiting it out since 1979, and it appears they are prepared to keep doing so.

However, I could be wrong.

Conclusion

The problem facing the United States is not the pressure campaigns. It’s not that pressure campaigns fail. Frankly, it’s the opposite. In many respects, they succeed. Take Iran, for instance. Iranian infrastructure is degraded, leadership figures are periodically eliminated, and the economy is continually squeezed, if not in some ways obliterated. On paper, therefore, Iran has already been defeated. But the difficulty lies elsewhere.

Understand that the Iranian system was never built around a single center of gravity that could be struck or collapsed. Instead, it resembles a distributed hydra, so to speak, capable of absorbing blows while shifting pressure outward through its proxies.

Economic adaptation under pressure produces ripple effects. As Iran scrambles to safeguard what strategic assets remain after repeated strikes, it doubles down on asymmetric pressure through its proxy networks across the region. This, in turn, forces surrounding markets and actors to adapt as well, spreading the disruption horizontally across the broader system.

What emerges is not victory, but a form of strategic fiction—sustained through a persistent pressure war in which neither side achieves decisive results, yet neither side disengages. Frankly, what we have here is a strategic standoff that could potentially put the broader global economy at risk.

There are two ways to look at how both the U.S. and Iranian systems are designed. The United States system is built for the decisive degradation of centralized adversaries. The Iranian system is built for distributed survival.

Both systems function exactly as designed. The result is strategic stalemate.