A US assault on Iran could quickly spiral into a wider regional war. Image: US Army

We’ve entered a new age of international warfare where it has become apparent in advance how a conflict may unfold prior to the start of that war.

For example, aircraft carriers move from one location to another; military bases throughout the world are being emptied; and diplomats are speaking at a much faster pace, albeit with little or no candor. The US military deployments in relation to Iran indicate we are seeing one of these instances.

The Pentagon has redefined its pattern of play and is executing a playbook. The overriding question at this time is not how the US will attack Iran. Rather, what are the reasons for attacking Iran? And to what end?

Historically, the US has fought many wars in which tactical success was achieved faster than the US had clarity on strategic objectives. Vietnam, Iraq and even World War II provide ample proof of this fact – the US has figured out how to wage war without a definitive end state yet has either forgotten that lesson learned or chosen to ignore it.

Iran could prove yet another example where this cycle continues.

War assets in motion

The clearest examples of preparations for military action against Iran are national assets. A carrier strike group is currently stationed in the Middle East; advanced missile defense systems (Patriot and THAAD) have been deployed within the region; all non-essential personnel are being removed from forward operating locations (Saudi Arabia and Qatar); and air tankers and heavy transportation aircraft are being moved into the region.

None of this suggests that a global superpower is expecting diplomatic resolution. Instead, these actions would suggest that a global superpower is clearing the battlefield for a military engagement.

Iran has been actively preparing for these developments as opposed to being passive. The flow of arms being sent to Iran from both Russia and China indicates that they were expected, instead of a surprise. Iran has also been stockpiling weapons, in addition to upgrading their air defense capabilities by acquiring the Chinese HQ-9B system.

When viewed in isolation, these capabilities appear to be impressive but in practice do not provide effective air defense against modern threats. Effective air defense in today’s environment requires deep integration, a variety of different systems, and a high level of constant real-time coordination. 

Iran does not possess many of these resources. In addition, an air defense system is only as strong as its weakest sensor, and Iran’s air defense sensors include many that are weak.

Still, none of this explains the purpose of war. The protests inside Iran, however real and deadly, are a sideshow in American calculations. Washington’s sudden interest in Iranian democracy rings hollow given Donald Trump’s record—from his indifference to Venezuela’s democratic collapse to his transactional view of Ukraine and even Greenland. This is not a crusade for liberal values. It is about unfinished business.

That business dates back to the last confrontation, when US strikes failed to account for roughly 400 kilograms of 60% enriched uranium. Tehran had moved it in advance. If further enriched—a technically modest step—that stockpile could yield material for several nuclear weapons. As long as that uranium remains unaccounted for, the problem, in American eyes, remains unresolved.

Iran has tried to buy time by offering negotiations. But the terms have shifted. Washington now demands not only an end to enrichment and missile development, but the removal of existing nuclear material and the abandonment of regional proxies.

No Iranian government, clerical or otherwise, could survive agreeing to such terms. Which brings us back to force.

Three military paths—and their costs

In general, the US has three military options—three ways to attack Iran—each with unique risks and ramifications.

The first is a targeted attack on nuclear facilities. This would be the most limited choice and the most straightforward to strategically defend. Destroy the websites. If at all possible, remove the missing enriched uranium. Declare the mission accomplished.

Such an operation would rely heavily on B-2 bombers carrying GBU-57 bunker busters, the only weapons capable of penetrating Iran’s deeply buried facilities. It would be short, violent, and—most importantly—restricted.

This approach has historical precedent. Israel’s strikes on Iraq’s Osirak reactor in 1981 and Syria’s al-Kibar facility in 2007 delayed proliferation without triggering regional war. But Iran is not Iraq in 1981. Its program is dispersed, hardened, and politically symbolic. Even a successful strike would likely buy time, not closure.

The second option is decapitation: targeting senior Iranian leaders or key IRGC figures in the hope of destabilizing the regime. The appeal is obvious. Remove the head, and the body collapses. The reality is less tidy. Iran’s political system is deeply institutionalized.

The Revolutionary Guards have contingency plans for succession and control. Kill a leader, and you may get a martyr. History offers a cautionary tale here. The 1980 Operation Eagle Claw failed not because of Iranian resistance, but because of logistical overreach. Iran’s geography punishes hubris.

More importantly, assassination strikes risk producing precisely the unity they aim to shatter. Shiite political culture is steeped in martyrdom. External attacks tend to consolidate hardliners, not empower moderates. Regime change by airstrike is an idea that has aged poorly since Baghdad in 2003.

The third option is the most ambitious—and the most dangerous: a sustained campaign aimed at degrading Iran’s military, security apparatus and political leadership over weeks or months.

This would go far beyond a one-off strike. It would target IRGC infrastructure, command centers, missile forces, and internal security units. The goal would be to create a power vacuum so severe that Iran’s leadership is forced into submission or collapse.

This is not impossible. But it is costly. Iran would respond, calibrating its retaliation to the level of threat. At the low end, it might strike US assets in Iraq or harass shipping in the Strait of Hormuz. At the high end—if it believed regime survival was at stake—it could escalate dramatically, risking a regional war that would draw in Gulf states and Israel.

Geography shapes all three options. With most regional states unwilling to grant airspace access, Washington’s choices are narrow. A northern route via the Caucasus risks detection by Russia.

A central corridor through Israel, Jordan and Iraq is tested but predictable. A southern approach via the Indian Ocean offers flexibility but demands heavy logistics. Most likely, any strike would combine the latter two.

Israel’s role adds another layer. Its interests are narrower but sharper. If Iran’s regime falters, Israeli jets would not wait for clarity. They would move to obliterate Iran’s military infrastructure, as they did in Syria after Assad’s fall. From Israel’s perspective, such moments are fleeting and must be exploited.

Strategy after the smoke clears

All of which returns us to the central issue: strategy. What does Washington want when the smoke clears? A delayed nuclear program? A weakened regime? A new government?

Without a clear answer, military action risks becoming an end in itself—a demonstration of power untethered from outcome.

Iran demands sobriety in abundance. The fuse may be burning but history suggests that how wars begin matters less than how they are intended to end. And on that question, Washington remains conspicuously vague.

M A Hossain is a senior journalist and international affairs analyst.

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