TOBIAS ELLWOOD: America’s humiliation leaves a harmful vacuum. I dread to assume what horrors will rise as much as fill it

‘A whole civilisation will die tonight… bomb them into the Stone Age… you’ll be living in hell.’

Donald Trump‘s unhinged language in recent days suggests a man increasingly panicking about a war he started and doesn’t know how to finish.

I am writing this before a 1am BST deadline on Wednesday after which the President has threatened more or less to wipe Iran off the map.

So by the time you read this, that proud and ancient country could lie in smouldering ruins, limited strikes could have been ordered on its military and even non-military infrastructure – or, as the financial markets increasingly bet nowadays, Trump could have ‘chickened out’ once again and failed to make good on his threats.

But in one sense, it doesn’t matter – because a few things remain true regardless.

First, America now looks far weaker than it did six weeks ago. 

Second, Iran, for all that it has sustained punishing losses, appears more unified than ever.  And third, and most worryingly, it should be clear to everyone that the world is losing the global architecture that has largely underpinned its peace and security for almost all of our lifetimes.

Where Trump’s incoherence, caprice and callousness have alienated allies, appalled ordinary Americans and betrayed the Maga voters who swept him to a landslide second term after promising ‘no more foreign wars’, the mullahs – or what’s left of them – continue to run rings around Washington in both communications and strategy. 

War generally favours defenders over aggressors, but this humiliation should still sting.

Trump’s threat to bomb Iran back ‘into the Stone Age’ is one first attributed to US air force general Curtis LeMay during the Vietnam War. 

Then, as now, it captured a complacent belief in the Western military establishment that overwhelming airpower can pummel the enemy into submission. Vietnam, of course, proved otherwise – at the cost of 60,000 American lives. 

Iraq and Afghanistan were presaged by the same mistakes (and indeed the brave response of Londoners during the Blitz should have taught the world the lesson a lifetime ago). 

I visited Afghanistan a dozen times after 9/11. The international military might was always a spectacle to witness. But without a clear exit strategy ‘mission creep’ became the norm.

And so it is with Trump – repeating those same schoolboy errors: a well-intentioned intervention, poor understanding of who he is up against, believing superior firepower will win the day.

Iran has spent decades preparing for precisely a confrontation like this. The regime’s command structures are designed to be decentralised, allowing local commanders to act independently.

Tehran’s arsenal of drones and missiles, though depleted, ensures it retains the fearsome capacity to respond at scale – and will soon be replenished by the Russians and possibly Chinese.

The mullahs have similarly proved adept at drawing Gulf states into the conflict and, of course, exerting control over the crucial Strait of Hormuz: two of their most important long-standing strategic objectives.

It is telling, too, that the regime has so far avoided being brought down from within. Brave young protesters have been slaughtered en masse and Trump’s repeated exhortations to the Iranian people to ‘rise up’ and overthrow the authorities have got nowhere.

I suspect that millions of Iranians, even those who do not favour the regime, will now be strengthened in their conviction that the only means of defending themselves and their country against another war like this lies in building or acquiring a nuclear bomb. 

(The ruling Kim family in North Korea came to the same conclusion decades ago, successfully built just such an apocalyptic device and now present a permanent headache for the international community.)

So no matter what unfolds over the coming hours, days and weeks, it should be clear to anyone that Trump’s war has weakened America and, at least in part, paradoxically strengthened Iran.

Regardless of whether a ceasefire is agreed, the Strait of Hormuz is going to feature in all of our discussions for some time to come. Even in the event of peace, Tehran could seek to impose a toll on ships passing through.

And if the war drags on, a single, well-placed Iranian missile or drone strike on a tanker in the region could disrupt shipping far beyond the Gulf, potentially extending to other critical areas such as the Suez Canal. The economic consequences would be immediate and global.

Across the Middle East, states seem set to adjust to a new reality – one in which American power is known to be more volatile and its promises to be less reliable.

Gulf nations, long dependent on US security guarantees, will hedge more aggressively. Two members of the important Gulf Cooperation Council – Kuwait, just miles from Iran’s border, and Qatar, which is suspicious of US ally Saudi Arabia – will likely seek greater accommodation with Tehran.

Israel, facing a more emboldened, battle-hardened and undefeated enemy, may feel compelled to act alone, without American approval, raising the risk of further escalation.

Other hostile countries will draw their own conclusions. If Iran – with no economy to speak of, no weapons of mass destruction, a corrupt and ageing leadership and clapped-out military hardware – can withstand the full weight of US military power, perhaps Uncle Sam is not to be as feared as they thought.

The principle of deterrence, once the cornerstone of Washington’s strategy in the region, begins to corrode. 

As for Nato, it will never be the same. Despite his bluster, Trump may not be able to withdraw formally from the alliance without approval from the US Congress. But he can hollow it out from within by diverting American attention and resources elsewhere.

Nato’s European members – already stretched from supporting Ukraine – will surely question Washington’s strategic priorities. If US munitions are to be diverted to an escalating conflict in the Middle East – and, if not, towards a future one in the Taiwan Strait – then Europe’s eastern flank will grow more exposed. 

Moscow, you can be sure, will test this, probing for weakness and exploiting any division.

This war, whether it be long or short, is going to present sobering lessons for America and, by extension, us all. Sustaining high-intensity operations against Iran has already drained stocks of key munitions. 

A significant portion of America’s Tomahawk missiles has been expended, each costing millions and taking years to replace.

Faced with rising costs, uncertain outcomes and a global backlash, the US may retreat into a more transactional posture, less willing to lead, more inclined to act unilaterally and then withdraw.

This is likely to be the future imagined by Vice President JD Vance, an isolationist with an eye on the White House in 2028, who has kept his fingerprints well away from Trump’s war. 

(This week, Vance decided to travel to Hungary – seemingly to be as far away as possible from where the key decisions were being taken.)

Look at the parallels with 1937: a leaderless West, international institutions weakening, tensions hardening, revisionist powers rising and re-arming. This is not history repeating itself; it is history accelerating.

Britain must wake up, for in real time we are witnessing America become less reliable, less confident and less capable. That leaves a dangerous vacuum. I dread to think what horrors might rise to fill it. 

• Tobias Ellwood, a former Conservative MP and captain in the British Army, was chairman of the UK’s House of Commons defence committee from 2020 to 2023.