Despite its rhetoric of “victory,” the United States appears to be drifting toward a prolonged and costly quagmire in Iran. While bombardments continue, Washington’s willingness to engage in negotiations under conditions shaped by Tehran suggests that military superiority is not translating into political leverage. With weak domestic support and rising energy risks, Iran is playing the long game. The real question is no longer whether the U.S. can win, but at what cost it will exit.
Recent U.S. moves against Iran reveal a deeper strategic strain. The picture on the ground is striking: thousands of troops from the 82nd Airborne Division deployed to the region, tens of thousands of soldiers and Marines positioned for a potential ground operation, and open discussions about controlling critical نقاط such as the Strait of Hormuz and Kharg Island. These are not signs of a short campaign, but of preparation for a long and expensive engagement.
At the same time, the continuation of “peace talks” alongside this military buildup reflects a hardened version of Washington’s familiar doctrine: strike first, negotiate later. The Defense Secretary’s remark, “We negotiate with bombs”, captures this approach bluntly.
Yet behind this projection of hard power lies a notable fragility. Iran’s effective veto of the U.S. negotiating team, insisting instead on talks with Vice President JD Vance, a demand Washington appears to have accepted, marks a highly unusual shift in the balance of power. Under normal circumstances, the party conducting military operations dictates the terms of negotiation. Here, the reverse seems to be happening.
Tehran’s stance is shaped by experience. Recalling previous diplomatic engagements followed by military escalation, Iranian officials openly signal distrust—“We’ve been misled before”—and reject figures they do not consider credible. This indicates that, from Iran’s perspective, diplomacy itself may be perceived as a potential trap.
The choice of Vance is also telling. Iran appears to view him as more cautious about prolonged Middle Eastern interventions and more inclined toward de-escalation. The fact that the U.S. cannot freely determine its own representative suggests a significant erosion of diplomatic leverage. The equation has shifted: from “we set the terms, you comply” to “you choose the interlocutor, we adapt.”
Domestic politics further complicates the situation. Despite declarations of success, public support remains limited. Approval for the war effort hovers at relatively low levels, and confidence in economic management is even weaker. Perhaps more telling, a very large majority of the public appears to favor bringing the conflict to an end as soon as possible. This places the U.S. leadership under time pressure, while Iran, despite economic hardship and isolation, faces no comparable electoral constraints.
In this sense, the asymmetry is not military but political: Iran can afford to wait; the United States cannot.
The energy dimension amplifies the global stakes. Risks to oil flows through the Strait of Hormuz are already reverberating beyond the region. Warnings from major energy executives about potential diesel shortages, along with references to supply chains operating at a “molecular level,” highlight how quickly economic costs could escalate. Meanwhile, oil transactions conducted in Chinese yuan and the emergence of alternative trade routes suggest a gradual erosion of U.S. influence over the global energy system.
Viewed through the lens of Iraq and Afghanistan, the pattern becomes clearer. In Iraq, the U.S. toppled a regime within weeks but became entangled in years of instability. In Afghanistan, a two-decade war ended with a rapid Taliban takeover. These cases illustrate how military success can fail to produce political stability and instead lead to prolonged entrapment.
Iran, however, is a far more complex and capable actor: larger, more organized, and with significant regional influence. Any ground engagement here would likely evolve into a multi-front asymmetric conflict.
At this stage, the architecture of the war has fundamentally changed. Bombardments continue, troop deployments expand, yet the U.S. simultaneously appears to accept negotiation dynamics shaped by Iran. This contradiction points less to strategic dominance than to strategic constraint.
The issue is no longer whether the United States can defeat Iran militarily, but how long it can sustain the political, economic, and social costs of this confrontation.
All indicators suggest that, rather than a swift victory, the U.S. is approaching a prolonged and costly impasse. The familiar pattern—rapid entry, difficult exit—may prove even more severe in this case. Because this time, Washington is not facing a fragmented state, but a patient, resilient actor with a long memory.
The real question now is simple: not whether the U.S. can win this war, but how much damage it will incur before it gets out.
