Opinion Iraq was a warning, Iran is a rupture

This war did not begin overnight. It has been gestating across red lines blurred over the years — enriched uranium levels, shadow assassinations, sabotage campaigns. But America’s direct strike marks a profound shift: From shadow war to spectacle.

If Iran retaliates — as it has promised — with drone swarms, missile fire, or a blockade of the Strait of Hormuz, we will not be in a limited conflict. We will be in a regional firestorm, tethered by oil, ideology, and overlapping alliances. In this war, geography is no refuge. Oil prices will rise in Paris. Shipping rates will spike in Shanghai. Missiles may land in Bahrain or Tel Aviv, but their shockwaves will hit Nairobi, London, Jakarta, and Mumbai.

In Washington, victory is elusive. For all its tactical precision, the US now finds itself re-tethered to the Gulf, stretching its strategic bandwidth just when it wanted to double down on the Indo-Pacific. Every Tomahawk missile fired at Iran is one less diplomatic arrow against China. Every barrel of oil added to the crisis takes the Fed further from a soft landing. And in an election year, with inflation twitching and military casualties always one mistake away, the political risk is incalculable.

In Tehran, the regime rallies. Nationalism surges. The missile strikes — though surgical — will feed a siege mentality. Proxies are already mobilised. The IRGC has options: Hezbollah to the north, the Houthis to the south, cyber capabilities across continents. The West wants to believe it can bomb away Iran’s nuclear ambitions. But knowledge, once earned, does not die in a bunker.

In Israel, military advantage meets political peril. For now, it has succeeded in hitting what it long feared: Iran’s nuclear infrastructure. But retaliation is expected. Finally, in the Gulf States, nervous calculation reigns. Saudi Arabia, the UAE, and Qatar want Iran boxed in, not unleashed.

Nations not involved in the war will still suffer its symptoms. India is heavily dependent on Gulf crude and now faces a renewed need to evacuate its massive diaspora from possible hotspots. Pakistan finds itself split — sympathetic to Iran, indebted to America, and vulnerable to unrest in its restive Baloch borderlands.

Markets speak faster than diplomats. Within hours of the strike, oil jumped toward $80, with projections of $100–120 if Hormuz is closed. Gold spiked to new highs as investors sought refuge. Global equities trembled, led by airline, logistics, and tech selloffs. Defence stocks soared.

There are three long-term implications. The first one is the proxy inferno: The regional war that doesn’t stop at borders. Iran responds not with conventional warfare, but through its sprawling proxy network — launching missile and drone attacks via Hezbollah, the Houthis, and Iraqi militias. US bases across the region are hit. Israel opens a northern front in Lebanon. Saudi oil fields are targeted again. The Red Sea becomes a war zone. This scenario doesn’t become a world war, but it consumes the Middle East — and the global economy with it.

The second scenario is that the global economy faces a chokehold. Iran blockades or mines the Strait of Hormuz. Global crude prices surge past $120. Supply chains fracture. Inflation returns with a vengeance. Central banks freeze planned rate cuts. Fragile economies in Africa, Asia, and Latin America tip into recession. Shipping giants reroute, insurance markets explode, and oil-dependent currencies crash.

Thirdly, this war strengthens the “preemption” precedent. The doctrine of “might before motive” spreads further. Having watched the US strike Iran based on future fear, other powers take note. China begins “preemptive defensive” posturing over Taiwan. India and Pakistan both harden their stances on cross-border threats. Russia, having acted on similar logic in Ukraine, now claims doctrinal vindication. The world enters an era of normalised anticipatory warfare — where “what you might do” justifies “what I will do.”

Is there an off-ramp? Barely. Amid global panic, Oman, India, and possibly China quietly broker a non-escalation pact. Iran pauses retaliation; the US halts further strikes. A diplomatic “freeze frame” is agreed, though nothing is resolved. The nuclear programme continues underground; sanctions remain. But the missiles stop — for now. It’s not peace, just silence. Fragile, but invaluable. In this age, perhaps even silence is a victory.

But the real question is this: Can the world afford to normalise a war that justifies itself before it begins? Even my 10-year-old son understands the illegitimacy of war as a means to an end. History will not wait for an answer. It is already being written — in oil prices, in refugee movements, and in the silence of bombed-out labs.

The writer serves as the global goodwill ambassador for President Volodymyr Zelenskyy’s office. A Harvard and Columbia University-educated graduate, he has worked for the UN and allied organisations