What is the end-game in the US-Iran-Israel war?
Wars rarely begin with clarity. But they become dangerous when they continue without it.
The latest escalation between the United States, Israel, and Iran has already crossed the threshold from tactical confrontation to strategic inflection point. Precision strikes, missile retaliation, proxy mobilisation, and open-ended warnings from Washington have reshaped the regional security environment in a matter of days. Yet beneath the spectacle of airpower and retaliation lies a question that grows more urgent with every passing hour: what does victory mean for the United States in Iran?
When a defined political end state is absent, even successful military operations can drift into prolonged conflict. And, in geopolitics, drift is rarely neutral. It is costly.
In the past 48 hours, US officials have offered varying explanations for the decision to escalate. One justification frames the strikes as pre-emptive — necessary to neutralise Iranian capabilities before they endanger US forces. Another suggests the United States acted to shape the battlefield because an Israeli strike was inevitable and Iranian retaliation would have targeted American bases regardless.
These are not semantic differences. A pre-emptive war is justified by imminence. A protective escalation is justified by alliance management. A transformative campaign — implied in some of the more forceful rhetoric — seeks to permanently degrade an adversary’s strategic capacity.
Each rationale carries a different timeline, a different threshold for success, and a different tolerance for risk.
If the objective was to prevent a specific imminent attack, then the benchmark for success is finite. If the goal is to reset regional deterrence architecture, the horizon expands. If the ambition extends toward reshaping Iran’s strategic posture altogether, then the United States is entering far more uncertain terrain.
When political objectives blur, military operations multiply.
Iran does not conceptualise war through symmetrical confrontation. Its defence architecture is structured for survival under sustained attack. Decentralised command networks, dispersed launch platforms, layered proxy relationships, and redundant supply chains form a strategic mosaic designed to prevent catastrophic collapse from concentrated strikes.
Iran’s approach transforms the battlefield into a test of resilience rather than dominance. Even if missile inventories are degraded and naval assets targeted, Iran retains alternative channels for retaliation. Proxy actors can escalate indirectly. Cyber and asymmetric maritime tactics remain available. Regional militias can act with varying degrees of autonomy.
Attrition, therefore, becomes ambiguous. What appears as battlefield success may not translate into strategic submission. Iran’s objective is not necessarily victory in conventional terms, but endurance long enough to outlast adversary cohesion.
A prolonged campaign would transform the war into a contest of stamina. And in wars of attrition, material sustainability often matters more than initial shock.This raises an uncomfortable reality for Washington and its partners. Gulf states operate sophisticated, layered air-defence systems designed to intercept ballistic missiles, cruise missiles, and drones. Yet even advanced systems rely on finite interceptor stockpiles. Sustained barrages of relatively inexpensive drones and missiles can gradually deplete costly, slow-to-replenish defensive inventories. If the conflict drags on for months, Gulf capitals could face difficult calculations about allocation and resupply, particularly if supply chains tighten or political constraints emerge in Washington.
The imbalance between cheap offensive systems and expensive defensive interceptors is a structural vulnerability. It favours endurance over decisive knockout blows. Iran does not need to achieve battlefield dominance; it only needs to impose persistent costs.
On the other hand, speculation about renewed US coordination with Kurdish elements along Iran’s western frontier introduces an additional layer of complexity to an already fragmented battlespace. Historically, Kurdish groups have served as tactical partners in counter-extremism campaigns, valued for their local knowledge and operational discipline. In theory, activating this axis could stretch Tehran’s internal security apparatus, forcing Iran to divert resources inward amid external pressure.
But strategy does not operate in isolation. Any expanded Kurdish role immediately intersects with Turkey’s acute sensitivities regarding Kurdish militarisation. Escalating along this frontier risks generating friction within NATO at precisely the moment alliance cohesion is critical. Moreover, empowering sub-state actors is never a purely tactical decision. Political aspirations evolve. Local agendas diverge. Instruments of pressure can transform into autonomous actors whose objectives are misaligned with their original sponsors.This dynamic mirrors Iran’s own approach to regional power projection.
Tehran’s most enduring strategic advantage lies in its distributed proxy architecture — Hezbollah in Lebanon, militias in Iraq and Syria, and aligned actors in Yemen. Together, they form a calibrated escalation ladder that allows Iran to impose costs without committing to full conventional confrontation. These actors do not require constant direction from Tehran to generate instability; their very existence complicates de-escalation.
The consequence is structural. Even if direct US–Iran exchanges stabilise, secondary theatres remain capable of reigniting hostilities. Missile launches, maritime harassment, drone strikes, and limited cross-border engagements create sustained friction while staying below the threshold of total war. Punishing one node does not collapse the network. It merely shifts pressure to another front.
Peripheral escalation, in other words, rarely remains peripheral. Once multiple semi-autonomous actors are engaged across overlapping theatres, containment becomes exponentially more difficult. The battlefield expands horizontally, while strategic clarity contracts.
Now the question is: could boots on the ground follow? Thus far, Washington has avoided committing to a ground invasion scenario. However, senior officials have conspicuously declined to rule it out. That ambiguity serves as a deterrent but also leaves open the possibility of mission creep.
Ground deployment would fundamentally transform the conflict. Securing hardened facilities, ensuring regime compliance, or stabilising post-strike environments could require physical presence. Yet history demonstrates that once boots touch the ground, strategic horizons expand unpredictably.
If such a decision were made, coordination with Israel would be indispensable. Israeli intelligence integration, aerial support, and operational planning would likely be central. At the same time, overt Israeli participation inside Iranian territory would heighten regional symbolism, potentially consolidating domestic Iranian support around resistance narratives.
The threshold for ground war is therefore not purely military — it is political, symbolic, and generational.
On the economic front, while disruptions around the Strait of Hormuz have understandably drawn global attention, they are symptoms rather than the core issue. Energy markets respond to risk perception as much as physical obstruction. Even limited threats generate price volatility and strategic anxiety among energy-importing economies.
The broader geopolitical consequence is prolonged instability, which affects alliance cohesion, defence planning cycles, and great-power competition. Asian economies dependent on Gulf energy flows recalibrate risk assessments. European partners confront inflationary pressures. Regional states accelerate defence procurement.
The ripple effects extend far beyond the Gulf.
Ultimately, the strategic ambiguity surrounding America’s objectives remains the central dilemma. Is the aim to restore deterrence? Permanently degrade missile capability? Collapse Iran’s proxy system? Force regime behavioural change? Or create conditions for internal political transformation?
Each objective requires different timelines, tools, and risk tolerances. Pursuing all simultaneously invites strategic overextension.
Wars become protracted not simply because adversaries are strong, but because political aims are imprecise. Iran’s strategy is built for endurance. Israel’s for decisive deterrence. The US appears suspended between preemption, containment, and coercive transformation. If Washington does not define a coherent political end goal, the conflict risks evolving into a long war of attrition in which success is measured not by decisive outcome but by relative exhaustion.The most powerful military in the world can degrade infrastructure and suppress adversaries. But without strategic clarity, even overwhelming force cannot guarantee strategic resolution.Without strategy and discipline, what began as a limited confrontation may harden into a defining geopolitical contest whose consequences reshape the Middle East — and US global leadership — for years to come.
ASM Tarek Hassan Semul is a Research Fellow, Defence Studies Division, Bangladesh Institute of International and Strategic Studies (BIISS) and International Visitor Leadership Program (IVLP) Alumni. He can be contacted at tarek@biiss.org.