Washington is not London. It entered this war with Iran from a position of vastly superior military power, global financial dominance, and institutional reach that Britain in 1956 could not have imagined. And yet it is precisely that superiority that makes the strategic failure, if it materialises, so much harder to excuse and so much more consequential to absorb.

A great power that loses because it is outgunned can recover. A great power that loses because it cannot translate overwhelming force into coherent political outcomes has encountered a different kind of limit entirely, one that no defence budget and no carrier group can resolve. In 1956, Britain, France, and Israel launched a military invasion of Egypt to take control of the Suez Canal. The forced British and French withdrawal from Suez was a military humiliation and the formal certification of imperial obsolescence. There was no coming back from Suez. The age of the European empire in the Middle East was over.

The question hanging over the Iran war is whether history is about to deliver a comparable verdict on American power this time. Donald Trump, during his address to the nation on Wednesday, said that the war in Iran is a success and “nearing completion”, even as thousands of US troops remain positioned in the region.

The US can degrade Iran’s military capacity; that much is beyond dispute. But military degradation and strategic achievement are not synonyms, and confusing the two is precisely the category error that has defined America’s most costly misadventures abroad. The question that will ultimately determine whether this war is remembered as a successful exercise of power or a monument to its misapplication is whether a nation-state can be bombed into political submission without being occupied, without its government being shattered and transferred, and without the regional order being durably restructured in the aggressor’s favor. The harder question is: What does this war cost American power in Asia, the theatre that actually determines the trajectory of the 21st century?

Every dollar spent flattening Iran is a dollar not spent contesting China in the Pacific. The case I have made is that the region’s chronic gravitational pull on American attention and military resources represents a structural liability, one that would be exposed the moment Washington chooses to launch a war it could win militarily but lose strategically. That moment has arrived.

Iran is not Saddam Hussein’s Iraq, hollowed out by a decade of sanctions and operating within limits that Washington had effectively drawn around it like a fence. That state collapsed the moment its ally in Moscow fell because it had no independent architecture of survival. Iran is a categorically different kind of political organism. It has a population of 90 million. It possesses a geography of mountains, deserts, and layered strategic depth that has exhausted conquerors across three millennia. Tehran commands an ideological apparatus that has demonstrated a stubborn institutional durability across nearly five decades of war and international isolation. And the regime has learned, at enormous and recurring cost, the austere discipline of absorbing punishment without surrendering.

Striking Iran’s nuclear facilities and missile infrastructure is a military accomplishment. It is not a strategic one. Destroying capacity is not the same as extinguishing will. No sustained air campaign in the modern era has achieved durable political transformation in a state of comparable size, complexity, and institutional depth; the absence of a successful precedent should concentrate minds in Washington as Beijing watches from a careful distance.

The foundational principle of strategy is not the destruction of the adversary but management of his behaviour within a framework that serves your interests. Measured against that standard, a war that concludes with an entrenched regime in Tehran, one that has internationalised its confrontation with America and Israel, weaponised the global economy through the Strait of Hormuz, and survived the combined military pressure of the world’s leading superpower and its most capable regional ally, is not a victory. It is an advertisement that American power has limits.

China will have waited out its rival’s self-inflicted exhaustion and emerged, without firing a single shot, as the principal strategic beneficiary of a war it did nothing to start. Suez reorganised the entire hierarchy of global power. The moment of rupture was immediately legible to those willing to see it honestly, without the distorting comfort of exceptionalism.

The Iran war may be doing the same, not by defeating America on the battlefield, but by consuming the attention, treasure, and strategic bandwidth that the Asian century actually demands. The question is whether Washington is willing to see it before the ledger closes.

The writer is senior fellow, Middle East Institute, and author of West Asia: A New American Grand Strategy in the Middle East