Why Trump Cannot Force Tehran to Yield
By Alek Karci Kurniawan
One of the enduring flaws in geopolitical analysis is the tendency to assess wars primarily through their military costs. For the United States, however, the decisive costs are often economic and political rather than military. The number of missiles launched or targets destroyed matters less than the consequences that follow.
In a confrontation with Iran, the critical arena extends beyond the Middle East. It lies in global energy markets and, ultimately, in the spending power of American households.
Around a fifth of the world’s seaborne oil trade passes through the Strait of Hormuz. Any disruption to this narrow chokepoint quickly unsettles energy markets. As tensions rise, oil prices follow. Higher crude prices feed into higher fuel costs, including in America.
For most Americans, events in the Gulf are remote. Petrol prices are not. Voters may pay little attention to the tactical outcome of military operations overseas, but they notice the cost of filling their cars. In domestic politics, fuel prices often carry greater weight than battlefield successes abroad.
That creates a dilemma for President Donald Trump. Pressure on Iran was intended to demonstrate American resolve and compel Tehran to accept Washington’s terms. Yet the economic consequences have proved harder to control than the military ones. Iran retains the capacity to impose costs without matching American power directly, while higher energy prices are felt by American consumers.
The result is a familiar asymmetry. The United States can project military force across the region, but it cannot insulate itself from the economic effects of instability. A campaign designed to strengthen deterrence risks generating political pressure at home.
The contradiction becomes more pronounced when China enters the picture. For much of the past decade, Beijing has been treated as America’s principal strategic rival. Trade restrictions, technology controls and calls for economic decoupling have all reflected that view. Yet the Iran crisis highlights the limits of confrontation as a governing framework.
China is the largest buyer of Iranian oil and possesses economic leverage over Tehran that few other countries can match. Any effort to stabilise energy flows, reduce tensions or encourage compromise inevitably involves Beijing. In practice, a crisis centred on Iran increases the value of Chinese cooperation. This points to a broader reality. Military superiority does not automatically translate into political influence. The United States may retain overwhelming military advantages, but it cannot by itself determine the behaviour of every actor that matters. Nor can it guarantee stable energy markets without accommodating the interests of other major powers.
For decades after the Cold War, American strategy rested on the assumption that military primacy would underpin political leadership. That assumption is becoming harder to sustain. The more interconnected the global economy becomes, the less any single power can manage systemic risks alone.
The Iran crisis illustrates this shift. The harder Washington pressures Tehran, the greater the risk of disruption to energy markets. The greater the disruption, the more important China’s role becomes. And the more Washington relies on Beijing’s cooperation, the more difficult it becomes to sustain the notion of an international order managed largely on American terms.
Trump therefore faces a problem more complex than defeating an adversary. He must balance pressure on Iran, manage an often unpredictable Israel, contain economic fallout at home and preserve political support among voters increasingly sensitive to the cost of living.
The available options are all unattractive. De-escalation could ease pressure on energy markets but may be portrayed as a concession. Escalation would deepen economic risks and may ultimately require cooperation from China, a dependence that sits uneasily with Washington’s narrative of strategic competition.
Maintaining the status quo offers little relief. Escalation risks deepening the global energy crisis and increasing political costs at home, while preserving the current situation merely prolongs uncertainty for markets, policymakers and consumers alike.
The broader lesson is that power in the twenty-first century is constrained not only by rivals but also by interdependence. A conflict intended to reaffirm American dominance has instead underscored how much that dominance depends on the cooperation of others.
Trump’s room for manoeuvre is narrowing. The objective of forcing Iran to accept Washington’s terms has collided with geopolitical and economic realities that military power alone cannot resolve. A return to the status quo ante is unlikely. Reconstructing the framework of restraint once provided by the 2015 nuclear agreement is harder still, not least because Washington itself dismantled it. What remains is not a clear route to victory, but a search for an exit that limits the costs of a conflict whose strategic benefits are increasingly uncertain.
About the author:
Alek Karci Kurniawan is a Master’s Student at the Faculty of Economics, Khon Kaen University, Thailand; Indonesian Delegate to the International Youth Forum at the United Nations.
