FOR decades, the United States sailed the oceans like an untouchable battleship, and Israel stood in the Middle East like a fortress wrapped in fire. Together, they shaped wars, toppled regimes, dictated oil routes, and drew red lines across deserts that were never truly theirs. Yet history is a river, not a statue. Rivers change course. Statues crack.
Today, the ground beneath the old order trembles. The conflict involving Iran, the United States, and Israel is not merely a military contest. It is a struggle between an ageing unipolar world and an emerging multipolar civilisation. It is the sound of the old throne creaking while new powers sharpen their voices in the corridors of history.
The question is no longer who possesses the powerful bomb. The real question is, who possesses endurance, geography, ideology, and national unity?
America and Israel undoubtedly remain militarily superior in terms of technology, intelligence networks, cyber capability, and air power. The United States still commands the world’s strongest navy and maintains hundreds of military bases across continents. Israel possesses one of the most advanced intelligence systems in the world and enjoys unwavering Western backing. On paper, they appear invincible.
But, wars are not fought on paper. They are fought in the psychology of nations. Vietnam proved it. Afghanistan proved it. Iraq proved it. A superpower can win every battle and still lose the war. Tanks can occupy land, but they cannot occupy memory. Drones can destroy buildings, but they cannot bomb belief out of people. Iran understood this lesson long ago.
Unlike many states built around personalities or palaces, Iran built itself around an idea: resistance. That idea became its shield stronger than steel. Sanctions isolated Iran economically, but paradoxically, they also forced self-reliance. While others imported security, Iran manufactured survival.
Today, Iran controls one of the most strategic geographical belts in the world. Through alliances and influence stretching across Iraq, Syria, Lebanon, Yemen, and parts of the Gulf, Tehran has woven what analysts often call the ‘axis of resistance.’ America may possess aircraft carriers, but Iran possesses geography. And geography is destiny wearing a military uniform.
The Strait of Hormuz alone carries nearly one-fifth of global oil trade. A crisis there shakes markets from Tokyo to London. This is why Iran, despite decades of sanctions, remains impossible to ignore. A nation sitting at the throat of global energy routes does not remain weak for long.
Moreover, Iran has demonstrated a remarkable asymmetrical strategy. Instead of competing directly with America’s trillion-dollar war machine, it mastered proxy warfare, missile deterrence, drone technology, and regional influence. It learnt how to fight giants without standing directly beneath their feet. Like a chess player confronting a boxer, Iran avoids brute force and attacks through positioning. And this is where the United States and Israel have gradually begun losing ground in the Middle East.
The American invasion of Iraq in 2003 removed Saddam Hussein, one of Iran’s greatest regional rivals. Ironically, Washington opened Baghdad’s doors to Tehran’s influence with its own hands. In Afghanistan, after twenty years of war and trillions of dollars spent, America withdrew in exhaustion. In Syria, despite immense pressure, the Assad government survived with support from Iran and Russia. In Yemen, the Houthis continue challenging Saudi and Western influence despite relentless bombardment.
These are not isolated events. They are signs of imperial fatigue. Even America’s traditional allies are recalculating. Saudi Arabia restored diplomatic relations with Iran through Chinese mediation. Turkey increasingly pursues independent policies. Qatar balances relations carefully. The Gulf states no longer trust absolute dependence on Washington. They are diversifying alliances because they sense the tectonic plates of power shifting beneath the earth.
Europe too faces contradictions. Many European populations increasingly criticise unconditional military campaigns and question endless wars. Economic crises, refugee pressures, energy insecurity, and political polarisation have weakened the moral confidence of Western liberal dominance. The war in Ukraine further exposed Europe’s dependence on American strategic decisions while simultaneously accelerating global fragmentation.
Meanwhile, another silent revolution is unfolding: the erosion of the petrodollar. For decades, oil was traded primarily in US dollars, giving Washington enormous economic leverage. But today, China purchases oil in yuan, BRICS nations discuss alternative financial mechanisms, Russia and Iran bypass dollar systems, and Gulf countries increasingly entertain non-dollar trade arrangements.
The dollar is still dominant, but dominance is no longer a monopoly. The world is slowly moving from one sun to many stars. China rises economically. Russia reasserts military influence. India grows demographically and technologically. Türkiye expands regional ambitions. Iran deepens strategic resilience. BRICS challenges Western financial architecture. Even Africa and Latin America increasingly reject old patterns of dependency.
Unipolarity is fading like an empire at sunset. The future will likely not belong to a single superpower but to competing centres of influence, a multipolar world where nations bargain, balance, and resist rather than obey. Yet perhaps the greatest lesson emerging from the US-Israel-Iran confrontation is not military at all. It is civilisational.
A nation united by identity, belief, and geography can survive against stronger enemies. History repeatedly confirms this truth. The Soviet Union collapsed in Afghanistan. America stumbled in Iraq. Colonial empires fell before barefoot revolutionaries carrying more conviction than ammunition.
Faith can become a fortress. National unity can become an invisible army. Geography can become a silent general. Iran’s greatest weapon may not be missiles or drones, but its ability to transform external pressure into internal cohesion. Sanctions intended to suffocate instead strengthened narratives of resistance. Threats intended to divide consolidated identity instead.
This does not mean Iran is invincible. Its economy suffers deeply. Internal dissent exists. Youth frustration grows. Regional conflict carries enormous risks. Likewise, America and Israel remain formidable powers with vast capabilities. Any direct war would be catastrophic for all sides and devastating for civilians across the region.
But the age when military supremacy alone guaranteed political victory is ending. The world now resembles a crowded chessboard rather than a lone emperor’s court. And perhaps that is the deepest irony of history: the more empires try to dominate the world through force, the more the world learns to resist through unity.
Power today no longer belongs solely to the strongest sword. It belongs to those who can endure the longest, unite the deepest, and adapt the fastest. The deserts of the Middle East are whispering a new equation to the world: oil may fuel economies, but identity fuels nations. And when identity, geography, and collective faith stand together, even giants begin to walk carefully. For history has a cruel habit of humbling empires that mistake fear for loyalty and dominance for permanence.
Md Nurul Haque is an assistant professor of English at IUBAT and a PhD candidate at UPM, Malaysia.
