Should the United States get involved in Iran?
A Historical and Strategic Analysis
As tensions between Israel and Iran flare once again, the possibility of direct U.S. military involvement is being weighed at the highest levels of government. Reports suggest that President Donald Trump is contemplating a targeted military strike on Iran’s Fordow Fuel Enrichment Plant, a site buried deep within the mountains near Qom, and one of the most heavily fortified facilities in Iran’s nuclear program. The strike would likely involve a 30,000-pound bunker-buster bomb—an unmistakable act of war. But this moment raises a broader, far more consequential question: Should the United States get involved in Iran at all?
The answer to this question is not found in soundbites or partisan slogans. It requires a deep dive into the tangled history between the United States and Iran—one that began long before nuclear enrichment was on the table. In 1953, the CIA orchestrated a coup to overthrow Iran’s democratically elected Prime Minister Mohammad Mossadegh, reinstalling the Shah in power. That decision, made during the Cold War to protect Western oil interests and contain Soviet influence, sowed lasting resentment. The Islamic Revolution of 1979 was in part a backlash to decades of Western-backed autocracy, culminating in the hostage crisis that defined the birth of the Islamic Republic. From that point on, U.S.-Iran relations have been characterized by mutual suspicion, proxy confrontations, and missed diplomatic opportunities.
In the decades that followed, Iran built a regional influence network through proxy groups such as Hezbollah in Lebanon, the Houthis in Yemen, and various Shi’a militias in Iraq and Syria. These groups serve not only to advance Tehran’s strategic objectives but also to provide plausible deniability in asymmetric warfare. For the United States, this means that any military action against Iran could trigger a cascade of indirect retaliation—from rocket attacks on U.S. bases to regional destabilization campaigns. A strike on Iranian soil does not simply end with the destruction of a nuclear site; it sets off a chain reaction that touches nearly every corner of the Middle East.
At the same time, American allies and adversaries are closely watching this unfolding crisis. Israel, perhaps the most vocal in its advocacy for a hard line against Iran, sees the situation in existential terms. Saudi Arabia, while less vocal, shares Israel’s concerns and would quietly welcome U.S. pressure on Iran—so long as it doesn’t spill into its borders. European allies, meanwhile, remain committed to diplomacy and are wary of another unilateral American military adventure that could upend the region and global energy markets. China and Russia, ever the opportunists, are ready to exploit a U.S. overextension by deepening their own influence in the region, supplying arms, and brokering deals that challenge Western dominance.
What’s at stake is not just the future of Iran’s nuclear ambitions, but the long-term credibility, stability, and moral standing of American foreign policy.
Iran’s nuclear program did not emerge in a vacuum. It developed over decades, partly as a response to regional threats, and partly as a way for the Iranian regime to assert independence from Western dominance. The 2015 Joint Comprehensive Plan of Action (JCPOA) represented a diplomatic breakthrough, offering Iran sanctions relief in exchange for curbing its nuclear activities. However, the deal was not without controversy. Critics, including many within the Trump administration and among U.S. allies like Israel, pointed to several perceived flaws. Chief among them were the 'sunset clauses' that allowed key restrictions to expire after a decade or so, raising fears that Iran could simply wait out the deal and resume its nuclear ambitions with international legitimacy. Others highlighted the deal’s limited inspections regime, which did not guarantee access to suspected military sites. Additionally, the agreement did not address Iran’s ballistic missile program or its support for militant proxy groups throughout the region. These omissions, critics argued, made the deal too narrow in scope and insufficient to curb Iran’s broader destabilizing behavior. Yet despite its flaws, the JCPOA provided a structured mechanism for oversight and delay, and its collapse without a robust replacement left a vacuum—one that allowed Iran to accelerate its enrichment activities unchecked. But when the U.S. unilaterally withdrew from the deal in 2018, Iran resumed uranium enrichment—eventually pushing enrichment levels near weapons-grade. This decision reignited fears in Israel, which has long viewed a nuclear-armed Iran as an existential threat.
Israel’s concern is not just paranoia; it’s shaped by real threats, inflammatory rhetoric from Iranian leaders, and the memory of the Holocaust. For decades, Iranian leaders have called for the destruction of the Israeli state, and Tehran’s support for militant groups like Hezbollah has placed Israeli civilians under the constant threat of rocket fire. The 2006 Lebanon War, in which Hezbollah launched thousands of rockets into northern Israel, remains a stark reminder of Iran’s ability to strike at Israel through proxies. Moreover, the shadow of the Holocaust continues to loom large in Israeli political and strategic thinking; the idea of a hostile, ideologically driven regime acquiring nuclear weapons is seen as a direct parallel to the existential threats of the 20th century. In this context, the Israeli doctrine of preemption becomes more than just policy—it is perceived as a moral imperative to ensure national survival. This deep-seated fear fuels pressure on the U.S. to act decisively, even when the risks of escalation are high. Yet Israel’s responses—covert assassinations, sabotage campaigns, and now preemptive strikes—have the potential to escalate the conflict into something far larger and more uncontrollable. Some in Israel hope that a decisive American strike could end the issue once and for all. But history suggests that military interventions rarely end that cleanly.
From Iraq to Afghanistan to Libya, the United States has often entered Middle Eastern conflicts with clear goals and confident plans—only to find itself mired in chaos, insurgency, and long-term commitments that far exceed the original mission. In Iraq, the 2003 invasion was launched under the pretense of eliminating weapons of mass destruction and promoting democracy. What followed was years of insurgency, sectarian violence, the rise of al-Qaeda in Iraq, and eventually the emergence of ISIS. The initial military victory gave way to occupation, reconstruction challenges, and a destabilized region.
Afghanistan, originally framed as a limited mission to dismantle al-Qaeda and remove the Taliban, quickly turned into a two-decade-long war. Despite trillions spent and thousands of lives lost, the Taliban returned to power in 2021 within weeks of the U.S. withdrawal, raising hard questions about the sustainability and purpose of American engagement.
In Libya, U.S. involvement in the 2011 NATO intervention helped topple Muammar Gaddafi, but failed to plan for the post-conflict vacuum. The country descended into civil war, became a haven for extremist groups, and remains fractured and unstable over a decade later.
These examples demonstrate how quickly a seemingly targeted intervention can evolve into a sprawling, undefined commitment. If the U.S. were to directly engage Iran militarily—especially by striking hardened nuclear sites—it risks triggering a similar cycle of retaliation, mission creep, and unintended consequences. Limited involvement, carefully scoped and diplomatically reinforced, is not only the prudent path—it is the strategic middle ground between reckless overreach and dangerous passivity. It provides a framework for pressure without entrapment, vigilance without provocation, and strength without escalation. The logic of striking Iran now, while perhaps compelling in the short term, risks plunging the region into another cycle of war and retaliation. Iran’s capacity to retaliate through proxy groups like Hezbollah in Lebanon, Shi’a militias in Iraq, and the Houthis in Yemen remains a factor, though it has been somewhat diminished in recent years due to Israeli airstrikes and regional counterterrorism efforts. Hezbollah, for example, has suffered logistical and leadership setbacks, while many Iraqi militias have been weakened by internal fractures and declining popular support. Still, the potential for asymmetric retaliation exists—particularly in the form of rocket attacks, cyberattacks, or targeted strikes on U.S. personnel and infrastructure. While Iran’s proxies may be less potent than in the past, they retain enough capability to inflict damage and escalate tensions unpredictably, especially if Tehran chooses to activate them in defense of its nuclear infrastructure or national prestige. American bases across the region could become targets overnight. Israel could face missile attacks on multiple fronts. Oil prices could spike, global markets could destabilize, and civilian populations would bear the brunt of the suffering.
Yet doing nothing does not mean inaction without purpose—it means exercising caution and avoiding impulsive escalation. That said, inaction can carry serious consequences. A nuclear Iran could embolden its regional influence and threaten U.S. allies, particularly Israel and Saudi Arabia. It could spark a new arms race in the Middle East, prompting countries like Saudi Arabia, Turkey, or Egypt to pursue their own nuclear capabilities, thereby increasing regional instability and proliferation risks. Historical precedents underscore the costs of inaction: in the 1990s, the international community’s failure to intervene decisively in Rwanda led to a genocide that claimed hundreds of thousands of lives. In a different vein, the West's delay in responding to North Korea's nuclear program allowed it to evolve from a regional threat into a nuclear-armed state that now poses a direct challenge to global security. Similarly, the gradual entrenchment of Iranian influence in Syria and Lebanon occurred, in part, due to a lack of early, coordinated action by the U.S. and its allies. Some argue that by failing to act now, the U.S. may be enabling a more entrenched, militarized, and defiant Iranian regime that will be far more dangerous to confront in the future.
So where does this leave us? The answer, I believe, lies in limited, strategic involvement. Recent remarks by President Trump further complicate the situation. In a striking statement, he publicly threatened Ayatollah Ali Khamenei, saying, "We know exactly where the so-called 'Supreme Leader' is hiding. He is an easy target, but is safe there - We are not going to take him out (kill!), at least not for now. But we don’t want missiles shot at civilians, or American soldiers. Our patience is wearing thin. Thank you for your attention to this matter!" Such rhetoric, while intended to deter, walks a dangerous line. It risks personalizing the conflict, escalating tensions, and provoking exactly the kind of retaliation the U.S. should be working to avoid. It also undermines efforts to coordinate a multilateral response and complicates diplomacy by turning a strategic conflict into a perceived vendetta. It risks personalizing the conflict, escalating tensions, and provoking exactly the kind of retaliation the U.S. should be working to avoid. Moreover, it underscores the urgency of adopting a disciplined, principled strategy—one that emphasizes containment, deterrence, and diplomacy, rather than impulsive threats or sweeping military actions. The United States should not launch another large-scale military campaign in the Middle East. But neither should it ignore the threat. Diplomatic pressure, multilateral sanctions, cyber operations, and support for regional allies should be the tools of choice. If a strike becomes unavoidable, it must be measured, and tied to a broader strategy aimed not at regime change, but at stability and nuclear deterrence.
In navigating this crisis, the United States must remember the lessons of its past. We’ve seen what happens when we overreach—when we act out of fear rather than prudence, when we confuse force with foresight. The challenge today is not to show strength for its own sake, but to act in a way that truly protects American interests while preserving peace wherever possible.
In an era of shifting power balances, the U.S. must resist the temptation to solve every geopolitical problem with firepower. Sometimes, restraint is not weakness—it’s wisdom. And in the case of Iran, that wisdom may be the only thing standing between us and another generation lost to war.