The US attack on Iran is a wrecking ball aimed at its foundations
In Washington, the phrase “restoring deterrence” functions as a foreign policy reflex. The logic appears straightforward: strike Iran’s assets, degrade its proxies, and demonstrate that the United States remains the unassailable guarantor of regional order.
It is a satisfying narrative. It is also a profound strategic blind spot.
The military campaign the United States has waged against Iran is not merely a gamble on containing a troublesome regime. It is a wrecking ball that has swung past its intended target and smashed directly into the economic and political foundations of America’s own allies. From the industrial heartland of Europe to the energy-dependent economies of Asia and the fragile states of the Gulf, the costs of this conflict have been outsourced to friends—while Washington, insulated by its own energy abundance, absorbs the blow with comparative ease.
They will insist that showing strength in the Gulf reassures partners and stabilises markets. The evidence suggests precisely the opposite. Allies are not reassured; they are absorbing economic shocks, watching supply chains fray, and growing quietly resentful of decisions made without their meaningful input.
Critics will argue that any demonstration of American resolve is preferable to inaction. They will insist that showing strength in the Gulf reassures partners and stabilizes markets. The evidence suggests precisely the opposite. Allies are not reassured; they are absorbing economic shocks, watching supply chains fray, and growing quietly resentful of decisions made without their meaningful input. This is not leadership. This is unilateralism with a bill sent to someone else’s address.
READ: How the Iran war turned civilian lifelines into bargaining currency
Consider Europe. Still navigating the aftershocks of previous energy crises, European industry now confronts renewed volatility in fuel costs. Factories that rely on predictable inputs—steel, chemicals, heavy manufacturing—are shedding competitive edge by the month. Some plants have reduced shifts; others have simply relocated. For households, the pressure arrives in more prosaic forms: higher heating bills, costlier groceries, and a gnawing sense that economic security is slipping away. The political consequences of that anxiety are already visible across the continent.
Supply chains already tested by years of disruption now face renewed instability. Growth slows. Recession risks climb. These are not hypothetical concerns; they are the observable fallout of a conflict these countries did not choose and cannot control.
Supply chains already tested by years of disruption now face renewed instability. Growth slows. Recession risks climb. These are not hypothetical concerns; they are the observable fallout of a conflict these countries did not choose and cannot control.
Asia’s predicament is starker still. Nations such as Japan, South Korea, and India depend overwhelmingly on imported energy to sustain their economies. When prices spike, funds that should flow toward infrastructure, education, and long-term development are siphoned off to pay immediate fuel bills. Supply chains already tested by years of disruption now face renewed instability. Growth slows. Recession risks climb. These are not hypothetical concerns; they are the observable fallout of a conflict these countries did not choose and cannot control.
Yet the sharpest edge of this crisis cuts closest to home for America’s Arab partners in the Gulf. These states have anchored their security strategies to Washington for decades. In exchange, their oil infrastructure, desalination plants, and export terminals have been transformed into legitimate military targets. Direct strikes cause immediate damage, but the more corrosive wound is to investor confidence—a commodity that dissipates far faster than it accumulates. Capital grows cautious. Long-term diversification plans, already precarious, begin to wobble.
The Strait of Hormuz, through which roughly one-fifth of the world’s traded oil passes, has become the focal point of this anxiety. Even the threat of disruption is sufficient to inflate insurance premiums and slow maritime traffic. For the Gulf states, whose national budgets and social contracts rest on energy revenues, this uncertainty is not an inconvenience. It is existential.
From the Strait of Hormuz to global markets: The chain reaction of war on energy security
Here is the uncomfortable truth that Washington seems unwilling to confront: the United States, as a leading global energy producer, has weathered this storm with relative insulation. In some respects, higher global prices have even conferred marginal benefits. America’s allies, by contrast, are paying the freight. This asymmetry breeds a corrosive question: why should we subsidize a strategy we did not design, especially when the gains appear so unevenly distributed?
The damage extends beyond balance sheets. Trust in the predictability of American foreign policy is eroding. Partners who expected consultation and coordination received unilateral decisions and cascading consequences. The aftertaste is bitter, and it lingers.
The damage extends beyond balance sheets. Trust in the predictability of American foreign policy is eroding. Partners who expected consultation and coordination received unilateral decisions and cascading consequences. The aftertaste is bitter, and it lingers.
Over time, nations adjust. They seek alternative energy suppliers. They explore financial mechanisms less tethered to the dollar. They quietly reconsider the terms of their security alignments. None of this happens overnight, but the trajectory is unmistakable.
The war with Iran was intended to project American strength. Instead, it has illuminated the vulnerabilities embedded in American alliances. For Europe, for Asia, and above all for the Gulf states bearing the heaviest burden, the distinction between having Washington as a friend and having it as an adversary is growing distressingly thin.
If we wish to halt this erosion, we must abandon the illusion that unilateral military action strengthens partnerships. It does not. It hollows them out. A strategy that makes allies poorer and more insecure is not a strategy for global leadership. It is a blueprint for isolation, drafted in our own hand.
The views expressed in this article belong to the author and do not necessarily reflect the editorial policy of Middle East Monitor.
