TEL Aviv’s June 13 attack on Iran was a geopolitical farce — one that masqueraded as strategy but was, at its core, the erratic outburst of a state no longer bound by restraint, international law or even the pretence of credibility.
This assault was not defence; it was spectacle. A theatre of militarism performed under the withering banner of “pre-emptive action”. At the heart of this pyrotechnic aggression stood Benjamin Netanyahu, a man beset by scandals at home. He lit the spark in a desperate bid to remain relevant.
The rationale was thin and the narrative recycled from the same tired playbook that led to Baghdad in 2003. We were told Iran was on the brink — again. That only immediate force could forestall nuclear apocalypse — again. But where was the proof? There was none. No satellite image. No intercepted message. No new intelligence. Just the hollow rhythm of a well-worn lie. The same choreography, a different stage. The same imperial delusion: that war is clean, that deterrence is moral, that bombing nations into submission somehow qualifies as stability.
We have lived through this performance before. The props were WMDs. The result was a shattered Iraq. Today, the target is Tehran. Tomorrow, who knows? But the pattern is clear — and so is the immunity. Israel remains the only advanced military power in the region, its warheads cocooned in silence, its arsenal cloaked in denial, its duplicity normalized through Western complicity. This is not an aberration — it is the operating system. One framework for allies, another for enemies. A dual standard polished into doctrine.
And the strike was not an endpoint. It was the opening act. Days later, the mask of plausible deniability slipped. Washington, which had initially postured as a bystander, stepped into full view — not as neutral broker, but as partner in escalation. The B2s took off. The payloads dropped. Fordow. Natanz. Esfahan. The names now added to the grim lexicon of U.S.-endorsed violence. These were not deterrents. These were provocations — calibrated, coordinated and unmistakably deliberate.
Iran responded. Not through intermediaries but directly. Al Udeid air base — the very embodiment of American permanence in the Gulf — was struck. The illusion shattered that America could ignite war without getting burned. That it could hide behind Israel while staying untouched.
But the official lexicon trudges on: “stability”, “security” and “deterrence.” The same tired vocabulary deployed to conceal catastrophe. Trump’s post-strike boasting was not a diplomatic blunder. It was confession. This wasn’t America being dragged into war. It was America diving in headfirst, fists raised, flags unfurled.
The international response? Predictable. The UN expressed concern. European leaders issued warnings. But there was no cost, no consequence, no accountability. Impunity, once again, was the only policy with bipartisan support. The message to the world was deafening in its clarity: might still makes right. There are no red lines for allies. Law is not absent — it is selectively applied. And the Global South is not fooled. The message is received: Western governments cry foul at others, even as their own missiles set the sky on fire.
At home, the architects speak of order. But their foreign policy is written in smoke and fire. Tel Aviv cries “self-defence.” But from what? What changed on June 13? What intelligence emerged? What new urgency necessitated this strike? None. This was not necessity. It was vanity. A demonstration of power for its own sake — raw, unchecked and above scrutiny. Each missile did not just crater Iranian soil. It cracked the very foundation of diplomacy.
And as always, the human toll is buried beneath metrics. Civilian bodies counted not as lives, but as numbers. In the halls of power, suffering is abstracted into graphs and charts — “targets hit,” “capabilities degraded,” “efficiency achieved.” As if trauma could be audited. As if grief had margins. This is more than failure of diplomacy. It is a failure of imagination. The enduring delusion that violence breeds peace. That dominance can coexist with dialogue. That a region can be bombed into order. These are not mistakes. They are strategic choices. Choices made not in the interests of people, but in the service of power — of men who mistake destruction for leadership and who shroud fear in the language of resolve.
What began with one Israeli strike has become something far more dangerous: an unmasking of the deeper rot beneath the surface of American foreign policy. It has torn away the veil on the so-called “rules-based order”. It has shown how quickly war can be conjured from spin, how easily silence can become complicity, how fragile peace is when built on lies.
And now, in the smouldering aftermath, Trump offers the world a grotesque coda: that Iran may now “pursue peace and harmony,” and that he will “encourage” Israel to do the same. These are not words of reconciliation — they are declarations of dominion. Issued by those who lit the match and now wish to narrate the ashes. Peace, they suggest, comes after punishment. But peace enforced through submission is not peace. It is domination.
Until those in power speak the truth — not just about what happened, but why — there can be no resolution. Only repetition. The machinery of war will continue to turn, indifferent to the bodies in its path. And the price, as always, will be paid by those who never had a say and never stood a chance.
—The writer is Assistant Professor, School of Governance and Society, University of Management and Technology, Lahore.
(tariq.rahim@umt.edu.pk)
