U.S. Military Strategy in Iran: The Need for Political Solutions

Here in Washington, the term “maximum pressure” has a familiar, wearying ring to it. We’ve seen this script before. A tense situation overseas, a military buildup, and a hope that sheer force of will – backed by ships and soldiers – will compel an adversary to bend. The latest chapter focuses on Iran, with U.S. forces once again massing in the Middle East. But as I look at the deployments and listen to the rhetoric, a critical question goes unanswered: what is the clear, civilian-led political outcome we are trying to achieve?

Military power is superb at creating conditions. It can signal resolve, protect allies, and buy precious time. What it cannot do is draft a peace treaty, build a stable government, or answer the profound question of “what comes next?” When we deploy our troops without a political endgame, we are not executing a strategy. We are initiating a long-term deployment. The numbers tell a stark story. As recently testified, over 108,000 U.S. Army soldiers alone are deployed or forward-postured across 160 countries. More than 50,000 personnel from all services are in the Middle East right now, including sailors on the USS Abraham Lincoln who have been at sea for a record-breaking duration without a port call.

This is the anatomy of a “forever war,” and we have seen this movie. I think of the 1991 Gulf War, a conflict that often feels like a relic from a more disciplined age. President George H.W. Bush, alongside Generals Colin Powell and Norman Schwarzkopf, made a tough political decision before the fighting ended. They liberated Kuwait and stopped. They understood that marching to Baghdad would trade a clean military victory for a messy, open-ended occupation. They asked the “what next?” question first.

Contrast that with the 2003 invasion of Iraq. The military objective was swiftly accomplished, but the political planning for the aftermath was catastrophically absent. I recall Colin Powell’s stark warning to President George W. Bush, a moment that has become Washington legend. “You are going to be the proud owner of 25 million people,” Powell said. “You will own all their hopes, aspirations, and problems. You’ll own it all.” His so-called “Pottery Barn rule” was a plea for civilian responsibility. It was a warning that went unheeded. The question of who would secure the peace, rebuild institutions, and govern was answered too late, and often fell by default to the very soldiers who had just finished fighting.

We witnessed a different but equally painful failure in Afghanistan. For two decades, the military succeeded in its core task of removing threats and controlling terrain. Yet successive administrations failed to define what specific, achievable political outcome all that sacrifice was meant to secure. When the political decision to leave was finally made in 2021, the absence of a coherent plan turned the withdrawal into a desperate, improvised evacuation under fire.

Today’s tensions with Iran risk following this well-worn path. Airstrikes have occurred. Tactical objectives may have been met. But where is the clear, actionable civilian strategy to achieve a lasting political settlement? An interim 60-day negotiating period was established, but without a serious diplomatic roadmap, it was built on hope, not statecraft. The result, as we see, is a return to brinkmanship in the Strait of Hormuz and more American families wondering when their loved ones aboard the USS Abraham Lincoln will finally come home.

The core issue is not the bravery or capability of our troops. It is a failure of strategic planning at the highest civilian levels of our government. The military has a profound institutional culture of strategy. It has schools for it, career fields for it, and practices it at scale. As one expert noted, the U.S. Army has its Functional Area 59 for strategists. Can we say the same for our diplomatic corps? The Department of State performs heroically every day, but it lacks the large-scale, career-gated strategist programs that are standard in the Pentagon. Other civilian agencies are similarly underequipped.

The fix is not to tie the military’s hands. Force is sometimes necessary. The fix is to build the civilian capacity to match. The President and Congress must invest in creating a cadre of civilian strategists whose career advancement is tied to mastering the long-term political dimensions of security. Then, when a crisis looms, the voice explaining how to achieve a political settlement and bring our troops home will be as powerful and prepared as the one explaining how to deploy them.

Deploying a carrier strike group is a dramatic signal. Bringing it home after achieving a durable peace is the real victory. Right now, we are expert at the first part. Our continued failures on the second part are why our sailors stay at sea, our soldiers remain on rotation, and our nation finds itself in open-ended commitments. Sending forces is an order. Bringing them home requires a plan. Without that civilian-led plan, we are not making strategy. We are merely scheduling the next long deployment.

• Military power signals resolve.
• Protecting allies is crucial.
• Preparing for peace treaties is vital.
• Success in military objectives must connect to political planning.
• Historical warnings should inform current strategies.
• Creating civilian leadership in strategy is necessary.