Middle East and its future

Some original thoughts

The recent eruption of war between Iran and Israel is not a sudden flare-up but rather another chapter in a long, tangled story that has stubbornly refused to settle. After decades of uneasy truces, failed diplomacy, and shadow conflicts, the latest clash threatens to redraw fault lines once more. While many see this as just another round of Middle Eastern violence, it is crucial to appreciate that what unfolds here will not only define the region’s future but also test the global order at a time when the world seems to be pulling inward, not outward. The United Nations, once heralded as a beacon of collective security, appears toothless in the face of mounting aggression, while territorial ambitions reminiscent of a bygone era are reasserting themselves with alarming boldness. Looking ahead, there are three broad scenarios that could bring this war to an end, each with its own grim logic and consequences.

First, the conflict could end in a protracted stalemate—a classic scenario where neither Iran nor Israel achieves a decisive victory but the cost of war continues to escalate. The Middle East has long been a theater where military might and asymmetrical warfare collide with deeply rooted grievances. The current war mirrors this pattern. Iran’s proxy networks, missile capabilities, and hybrid tactics ensure that any Israeli advance or strike will be met with persistent resistance, and vice versa. This grinding confrontation would further destabilize neighboring countries, deepen sectarian divides, and prolong suffering. The international community, exhausted by endless crises and distracted by its own internal divisions, will likely stand by powerless or indifferent. The UN, trapped in bureaucracy and hamstrung by veto powers, will fail to broker a meaningful ceasefire, reinforcing its image as an anachronism. Such a scenario normalizes perpetual conflict, allowing extremist narratives to fester and expanding the region’s instability like an open wound that never heals. As John Mearsheimer reminds us in his work on offensive realism, states in such anarchic environments relentlessly seek security by maximizing power, which perpetuates cycles of conflict and stalemate rather than peace.

Second scenario: Limited escalation leads to a precarious deterrence stalemate. Both Iran and Israel recognize the costs of full-scale war and remain cautious about crossing red lines. At the lower levels of conflict, Iran’s 3,000 ballistic missiles pose a credible threat, even if they don’t match Israel’s advanced missile defense systems like David’s Sling, Arrow 3, or Iron Dome. This relative parity keeps both sides locked in a tense balance, where neither wants to risk escalation that could spiral out of control. Israel, dominant at higher levels of conflict, faces shrinking strategic options if it chooses to escalate, as a broader war risks disrupting global oil markets—a risk that clashes with the interests of its strongest ally, the U.S., especially given economic uncertainties and political pressures against rising oil prices. Meanwhile, Iran might attempt limited strikes against energy infrastructure to provoke a response or force American intervention, but without escalating beyond a manageable threshold. This scenario results in a fragile, ongoing standoff—neither side achieving decisive victory, but both deterred from all-out war by the complex regional and international stakes. Kaplan’s framing of “the revenge of geography” rings true here—geographical realities and strategic interests stubbornly resist simplistic political fixes, ensuring that outside powers will be drawn into the Middle East’s turbulence, shaping its fate in ways neither local actors nor global institutions can fully control.

The third scenario, and perhaps the most radical, would be a genuine shift toward diplomatic innovation driven by exhaustion and changing regional realities. However, recent calls from figures like Trump demanding unconditional surrender from Iran complicate this possibility significantly. Such uncompromising demands harden positions, leaving little room for negotiation or compromise. If Israel and its allies insist on total capitulation, Iran is unlikely to back down peacefully, given its own domestic pressures and regional ambitions. Instead, this could prolong the conflict, entrenching hostility and making a negotiated settlement even more elusive. Diplomatic breakthroughs require some degree of flexibility and mutual recognition—something an ultimatum effectively eliminates. That said, if war fatigue intensifies and internal dissent grows in both countries, grassroots and regional actors might push for pragmatic deals despite official rhetoric. But with the specter of unconditional surrender looming, any peace process would be fragile, contingent on significant shifts in leadership or geopolitical circumstances. The demand for total victory risks turning what might have been a conditional coexistence into a protracted, bitter stalemate with devastating human and regional consequences.

These three endings share a common thread: the ongoing conflict is not isolated but symptomatic of a global order in flux. The post-World War II framework that created the UN and shaped international norms is creaking under the weight of rising nationalism, territorial ambitions, and strategic rivalries. The Middle East is a microcosm of this broader unraveling. Boundaries—once drawn arbitrarily in distant rooms, often ignoring ethnic and sectarian realities—have contributed to instability but are now less of a direct factor than before. The true challenge is that the international community’s mechanisms to prevent or resolve conflict are failing. Countries are turning inward, obsessed with their own interests, while multilateral institutions have become increasingly irrelevant or captured by power politics. The resurgence of territorial expansionism is a symptom of a world where might increasingly defines right, and where diplomatic tools have rusted away. Kaplan’s observation that the world is returning to “tribalism and geopolitics” over liberal internationalism could not be more relevant; the Middle East is a painful exemplar of this larger regression.

In this environment, the Iran-Israel war may not find a neat or lasting conclusion anytime soon. Instead, it is likely to evolve through these scenarios, each amplifying different risks: the normalization of endless conflict, the dangers of proxy warfare and external intervention, or the slim hope of a fragile peace born out of pragmatism. For those watching, the lesson is clear—unless global and regional actors can reinvest in robust, honest diplomacy and reform international institutions, the Middle East will remain a tinderbox, reflecting the fractures and failures of a world still searching for a new order. This conflict, like many before it, will be remembered not only for its immediate violence but for what it reveals about the limits of power, the persistence of old grievances, and the pressing need for new solutions.