'Iran’s threat is global': Experts call Diego Garcia strike a wake-up call

Each time tensions escalate between the United States, Israel and the Islamic Republic of Iran, however, a familiar pattern emerges in Western commentary. Before events have meaningfully unfolded, a chorus of analysts moves quickly to declare failure. T

he comparisons are predictable: Iraq, Afghanistan, quagmires. The conclusion is often presented as inevitable.

This reflex deserves scrutiny. Skepticism is necessary in matters of war. But when skepticism hardens into certainty, it ceases to be analysis. To assert at the outset that success is impossible is not caution; it is intellectual closure. Every conflict contains a range of possible outcomes, and serious analysis requires acknowledging that reality.

Part of the current pessimism is political. Assessments of strategy are often filtered through attitudes toward leadership, particularly in the case of President Donald Trump.

For many critics, this leads to the presumption that any policy associated with him must fail. But political actors are rarely defined by a single dimension. The same American founders who articulated the principle that “all men are created equal” also upheld slavery.

Whatever one’s broader evaluation of Trump, the objective of preventing the Islamic Republic from becoming a nuclear power addresses a widely recognized security concern. Judging that objective should not depend on personal or partisan preferences, but on its strategic implications.

Many Middle Eastern states are concerned about Tehran’s regional power projection. Cross-border attacks, missile strikes and the use of proxy forces such as Hezbollah reinforce fears that Iran’s leaders are willing to escalate conflict to preserve their position.

Yet the most common analytical error may lie elsewhere: in assumptions about Iranian society. Political theorists from Antonio Gramsci onward have emphasized that durable power requires more than coercion. It requires a governing narrative, a form of “common sense” that people internalize and that gives legitimacy to rule.

The Islamic Republic once possessed such a narrative, rooted in revolutionary ideology and religious authority. But that narrative has eroded; large segments of Iranian society no longer identify with the ideological foundations of the state.

This matters because regimes that lose narrative cohesion often become increasingly dependent on force. They can persist for long periods, but in a more brittle and reactive form.

During the 12-day conflict in June, reactions inside Iran appeared complex rather than uniformly relieved. While many welcomed the ceasefire, reporting from within the country pointed to a mix of fear, uncertainty and guarded expectation. As Israel’s battlefield advantage became apparent, some Iranians expressed concern that the regime might turn inward to reassert control.

The deadly crackdown that followed in January 2026 underscored the argument that the state’s first instinct when challenged is repression.

A different concern has also surfaced in some discussions among Iranians: that conflict might end prematurely, leaving the regime intact and emboldened. For a population that has repeatedly risked its life in protest, partial measures carry their own consequences.

In Iraq and Afghanistan, external intervention collided with deeply fragmented societies marked by sectarian divisions, tribal rivalries and competing power centers. Iran has its own social and political cleavages, but not necessarily the same degree of entrenched sectarian fragmentation.

Opposition to the Islamic Republic frequently cuts across class, gender and regional lines, creating a form of shared political discontent that differs from those earlier conflicts.

Those ruling Iran appear aware of this vulnerability. Several senior officials have used state media in recent weeks to warn citizens against protest. A government at war focusing on controlling its own population may reveal a measure of insecurity rather than strength.

A similar pattern is visible in its information strategy. Governments confident in their position rarely need to shut down internet access for tens of millions of people. Nor do they typically rely on implausible claims of battlefield success, including reports circulated on state media suggesting the downing of advanced fighter jets, the destruction of major Israeli cities or even the death of senior Israeli leaders such as Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu.

Meanwhile, the external balance has also shifted in ways that are often underappreciated. Israel and the United States have killed several key figures since they began their attacks on Feb. 28. Tehran’s reaction—striking many neighboring states have—has expanded concern beyond its traditional adversaries.

Governments that previously sought to manage relations with Iran now face a more direct security calculus, some even reportedly pondering a more direct involvement in the war.

None of this guarantees a particular outcome. The Islamic Republic retains significant resources, including coercive capacity, financial networks and ideological constituencies. It also benefits from the willingness of committed supporters to endure high costs, reinforced by narratives that valorize sacrifice and martyrdom.

But acknowledging these realities does not require ignoring countervailing pressures. A regime that faces internal discontent, increasing reliance on repression and expanding external pressure may prove less stable than it appears.

To interpret its most extreme actions solely as signs of strength risks misunderstanding the nature of power. Erratic behavior can reflect desperation as much as confidence.

A more balanced assessment would therefore consider not only the lessons of Iraq and Afghanistan, but also the conditions that distinguish Iran: the erosion of ideological legitimacy, the agency of its society and a shifting regional environment.

Iran is not Iraq. It is not Afghanistan. Its trajectory is not predetermined.

The more relevant question is not whether failure is inevitable, but whether current analysis adequately captures the possibility that this moment—shaped by internal and external pressures alike—may unfold differently.

For more than a decade, Tehran has invested heavily in the Jask oil terminal, a project designed to shift part of its crude exports to the Gulf of Oman and create an alternative export route outside the Persian Gulf in times of crisis. Yet the data suggests the terminal has so far played only a marginal role in Iran’s export system.

According to Kpler data, Iran loaded an average of about 1.84 million barrels per day (bpd) of crude during the first 25 days of March. The contribution of the Jask terminal remained minimal.

Average loadings from Jask stood at roughly 81,000 bpd during this period—less than 5% of Iran’s total crude exports.

Historical patterns suggest this limitation may be structural. Iran first initiated exports from Jask in October 2024 amid heightened military tensions with Israel. Even then, volumes remained modest at around 77,000 bpd. In March 2025, exports from the terminal averaged roughly 54,000 bpd.

This is despite the fact that Jask is connected to Iran’s main oil-producing regions through a pipeline stretching nearly 1,000 kilometers, an infrastructure investment intended to enable significant export capacity outside the Persian Gulf.

In practice, Iran’s dependence on Kharg Island remains overwhelming.

Kpler data indicates that more than 84% of Iran’s oil exports in March were loaded from Kharg, while Jask accounted for just 4.4%. Another roughly 10% originated from the Soroush and South Pars terminals in the Persian Gulf.

Such concentration creates a clear strategic vulnerability: any disruption at Kharg could severely cripple Iran’s oil exports.

The question has gained renewed relevance as the war between Iran and the United States and Israel has intensified. The Strait of Hormuz—through which roughly a fifth of global oil trade passes—has become a central point of tension, with Tehran periodically restricting maritime traffic.

At the same time, reports have emerged of expanding US military operations in the region, including contingency planning involving strategic islands near the Strait of Hormuz that could be used to control access to the waterway.

In such a scenario, Iran’s continued reliance on export infrastructure concentrated around Kharg would leave its oil trade exposed to disruption.

Overall, the export data underscores a fundamental reality: despite years of investment, Iran has not succeeded in meaningfully reducing its dependence on the Strait of Hormuz—or, more critically, on the Kharg export hub.

In a volatile regional environment, that dependence represents a significant structural weakness.

The comments come as U.S. President Donald Trump said Thursday he would pause planned strikes on Iran’s energy infrastructure for 10 days until April 6, saying the move followed a request from Tehran and that negotiations were continuing.

Iranian officials have confirmed receiving proposals for talks but say they are reviewing them while insisting Iran will not accept ultimatums.

The war, now entering its fourth week, has already drawn in multiple regional actors and heightened tensions around strategic chokepoints such as the Strait of Hormuz, raising concerns that a wider confrontation could disrupt global energy flows and destabilize the region further.

Saba Zanganeh, a former diplomat close to the office of Iran’s Supreme Leader, told the moderate outlet Fararu on March 25 that the conflict should prompt regional governments to reconsider their security policies and alliances.

He said regional governments have often acted as secondary players under foreign influence, worsening conflicts rather than resolving them. The current war, he added, offers a stark lesson that continuing the existing model will deepen regional crises.

He argued that decades of instability stem from what he described as “a flawed strategic paradigm shared by regional states and external powers,” which he said has repeatedly produced destruction and fragmentation in countries including Iraq, Syria, Lebanon, Libya, Sudan, Somalia and Yemen.

Hossein Mousavian, Iran’s former ambassador to Germany, offered a more confrontational assessment.

Speaking to Etemad Online, he said Iranian officials increasingly view Persian Gulf Arab states as partners in the conflict, sharing what he described as a common objective of the “complete destruction of Iran.”

Mousavian said Tehran is preparing for the possibility of a broader confrontation involving the United States and its regional allies.

Another former diplomat, Kourosh Ahmadi, suggested the conflict may last far longer than initially expected.

Speaking to Fararu, he noted that both Trump and Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu first suggested the war might last only four to seven days before revising their estimates to several weeks. Even those expectations may prove unrealistic, he said.

Ahmadi pointed to Iran’s ability to restrict or control shipping in the Strait of Hormuz as a decisive factor in prolonging the conflict. As long as Tehran maintains that leverage over one of the world’s most critical energy chokepoints, he argued, the war is unlikely to end quickly.

“Israel seeks the collapse and incapacitation of Iran, not merely political concessions,” he said, arguing that Washington’s goals were more limited and often diverged from that of Israel.

Despite their different emphases, the three former diplomats share a similar underlying assessment: the current conflict risks evolving into a prolonged regional crisis whose consequences could reshape the Middle East for years.

“We have very substantial talks going on with respect to Iran, with the right people,” Trump told reporters at a Cabinet meeting, signaling that diplomatic channels remain open despite the ongoing conflict.

The president pointed to what he described as a recent gesture involving oil tankers in the Strait of Hormuz as evidence that the interlocutors involved in the discussions hold influence inside Iran’s leadership.

“They said, to show you that we’re real and solid and we’re there, we’re going to let you have eight boats,” Trump said, referring to oil tankers transiting the strategic waterway.

He added that the number later increased to 10 vessels, suggesting to him that those involved in the talks had the authority to deliver concrete steps.

Steve Witkoff, the US envoy involved in the diplomatic effort, said Washington has presented Iran with a 15-point framework for a potential peace agreement, describing it as the basis for ongoing discussions.

Witkoff said the proposal had been circulated through intermediaries and that talks were producing what he called “strong and positive messaging,” though he said the administration would keep the details confidential.

Iranian officials have confirmed that they have received proposals from the United States and said they are reviewing them, though they have not publicly described the terms or acknowledged direct negotiations.

The diplomatic signals come against the backdrop of continued military escalation. Friday will mark four weeks since the United States and Israel launched strikes on Iran, after negotiations that Witkoff said on Thursday had been going nowhere.

It also marks the end of a five-day extension announced by Trump this week to his deadline for Tehran to reopen the Strait of Hormuz or face airstrikes on Iranian power plants.

When asked whether the deadline remained in effect through Friday, Trump declined to give a clear answer.

Efforts to arrange another round of talks also appear uncertain.

Pakistan’s foreign minister said Thursday that expectations for negotiations in Islamabad this weekend may be premature, cooling speculation that the two sides could meet there in the coming days.

Pentagon officials have confirmed that additional troops are being moved into the Middle East, and Axios reported Thursday that Trump has been presented with military options that include strikes on Iranian targets and the potential seizure of strategic islands.

Trump did not rule out further escalation when asked about the possibility of taking control of Iranian oil resources, similar to what the United States attempted in Venezuela.

“That could be an option,” he said.

On March 24, reports indicated that Iran had suspended natural gas exports to Turkey following damage to facilities at the South Pars gas field after a March 18 strike. The disruption affects flows that accounted for roughly 14% of Turkey’s gas supply in 2025.

While Ankara’s response was swift and reassuring—with officials stressing that storage, diversification, and system flexibility prevented supply problems—the episode reveals a deeper issue on the Iranian side.

The halt is not simply a temporary interruption; it reflects structural constraints within Iran’s gas sector that limit its ability to sustain exports even to key regional partners.

A system under strain

The disruption originates from damage to South Pars, the world’s largest gas field and the backbone of Iran’s energy system. Because most of its output is consumed domestically, Iran operates with minimal export flexibility. Even limited disruptions can force immediate cuts to external deliveries.

Despite holding the world’s second-largest gas reserves, Iran has struggled to translate resource abundance into export capacity due to sanctions, underinvestment, and rising domestic demand.

As a result, exports to Turkey via the Tabriz–Ankara pipeline have often been inconsistent, with repeated disruptions over the past decade linked to technical issues and winter shortages.

In practice, Iran’s gas exports function less as a strategic tool than as a residual output constrained by domestic priorities.

Asymmetry

Energy relations between Iran and Turkey have long been framed as mutually beneficial: Iran gains export revenue while Turkey secures relatively affordable pipeline gas. In reality, the relationship is asymmetrical.

Iranian gas typically accounts for around 7–8 billion cubic meters annually. It is an important but non-dominant share of Turkey’s supply mix. Turkey’s broader portfolio, including Russia, Azerbaijan and LNG imports, limits dependence on any single supplier.

For Iran, by contrast, Turkey represents one of the few stable export outlets available under sanctions.

This imbalance becomes clear during disruptions. While Turkey can replace lost volumes through alternative sources, Iran cannot easily offset lost exports or the reputational damage that follows.

The timing is also significant. Turkey’s long-term gas contract with Iran is due to expire in mid-2026, and renegotiation was already expected to involve reduced volumes. Repeated supply interruptions are likely to strengthen Ankara’s bargaining position and further weaken Iran’s leverage.

Credibility and market impact

Turkey’s ability to absorb the disruption reflects years of diversification. The country consumes more than 50 bcm of gas annually and can draw on multiple pipeline suppliers as well as LNG imports.

Substitution, however, carries economic costs. Iranian pipeline gas has historically been cheaper than spot LNG, meaning replacement supplies raise import expenses.

Spot LNG prices in the Mediterranean have already risen amid broader geopolitical tensions, implying higher energy bills for Turkey if the disruption persists.

Yet these dynamics also underline Iran’s limited influence. Supply interruptions may impose short-term costs, but they do not create dependency. Instead, they highlight Turkey’s ability to adapt while reducing Iran’s strategic relevance over time.

In energy markets, credibility is as important as capacity. Repeated disruptions—whether caused by infrastructure damage, domestic shortages, or external shocks—undermine confidence in Iran as a dependable supplier.

Unlike major exporters such as Qatar or the United States, which maintain surplus capacity and flexible supply chains, Iran operates with structural constraints that limit responsiveness.

Turkey’s gas disruption therefore reveals more about Iran than about Turkey. Despite vast reserves, Iran lacks the infrastructure, investment and flexibility needed to turn those resources into consistent geopolitical influence.

Rather than demonstrating strength, the episode highlights constraint. Turkey’s ability to adapt reduces Iran’s leverage, while recurring supply interruptions erode its credibility as a regional energy partner.

In today’s energy landscape, influence depends not only on resources but on reliability—and that is where Iran continues to fall short.