By Tahir Jamal Baig
In the realm of international affairs, truth often hides behind layers of ambiguity. Nowhere is this more evident than in the complex triangle of conflict between Iran, Israel, and the United States. Despite grand pronouncements and dramatic military claims, the twelve-day conflict of June 2025 has left more questions than answers.
“The more a thing is explained, the less convincing it becomes.” That adage perfectly captures the tone of Washington’s narrative surrounding Operation Midnight Hammer—the high-stakes military assault on Iran launched on the night of June 22.
Since that night, Washington, in it’s briefings has been insisting that it has crippled Iran’s nuclear capability saying, “We obliterated it.”
Six satellite images of impact points on the mountains near Fordow were presented alongside aerial photographs, purportedly depicting the devastation of enrichment plants. These are Iran’s most heavily fortified nuclear facilities—built deep underground, somewhere under mountains.
Every intelligence analyst knows that repetition isn’t evidence. The insistence with which these images have been paraded has invited more suspicion than certainty. The term “obliterated” has been repeated so often that it now feels like part of a rehearsed script. Satellite craters do not necessarily signify the dismantling of a nuclear program. It remains, for now, a loud story with little verification.
Criticism of the operation is not confined to Iran or its allies. Notably, dissenting voices have risen from within Israel and its pro-Western intelligentsia. Israeli defence experts, familiar with the terrain and Iran’s nuclear concealment strategies, have publicly questioned the strategic efficacy of the operation.Was Iran’s nuclear capability truly neutralized?
Have the 18,000 centrifuges at Fordow and Natanz been destroyed?
And most crucially, what happened to the 408 kilograms of enriched uranium sufficient for the rapid construction of multiple nuclear warheads?
The silence around these questions has grown louder than official proclamations. Pentagon officials continue using definitive terms like “dismantled,” yet no independent body has confirmed the results. Former IAEA observers admitted: “We are blind. We don’t know if the uranium was destroyed or simply relocated.”
Iran has responded with typical ambiguity, claiming fissile material had been “removed.” – an admission that sounds more like a warning: “You hit something, but not everything.” Militarily, Iran proved it still has teeth. Its missile strike on the Al Udeid airbase in Qatar—the largest American military facility in the Gulf—was largely symbolic, but it shook Washington enough to trigger internal reassessments. The Pentagon knows that Iran retains the ability to target the 27 U.S. bases across the Gulf if provoked again.
The war, though brief, was costly. For both nations, economic recovery will not be immediate. Economically, both Iran and Israel emerged from the twelve-day war bruised. Iran, already crippled by sanctions, incurred additional damages estimated between $24 and $35 billion—about 6–9% of its GDP. Israel fared slightly better, but still suffered losses of $11 to $18 billion, or 2–3% of GDP. These figures exclude censored data on classified military losses. Israel’s high-tech defense systems allowed it to absorb the shock, but the economic aftershocks will take 18–24 months to settle.
The question that now looms is not whether war will resume, but when? Most analysts agree this ceasefire is temporary—more a strategic pause than a peace agreement. Iran, Israel, and the U.S. have made calculated compromises to buy time, not reconciliation.
For Iran, the war was a painful but deliberate show of endurance. For Israel and its Western backers, it was an unfinished mission. In parts of the Muslim world, particularly in Pakistan, there is growing speculation that this war was a diversion—to push Gaza out of the headlines and allow Israel to continue its operations under the smokescreen of Iran.
The Zionist lobby, long a quiet force in Washington, appears increasingly exposed and desperate. Unable to dominate through persuasion, it may now push for direct military intervention to restore its fading influence. Hawks in the West who still dream of regime change in Iran ignore a vital truth: wars often strengthen authoritarian regimes, not weaken them.
Iran’s political structure, weathered by decades of pressure, remains resilient. Another foreign attack may, paradoxically, consolidate domestic support around the very system the West seeks to undermine. External threats often breed internal cohesion.
What appears to be a lull is, in truth, the quiet before another storm, one that will not merely revisit conventional battlefields but unveil new theatres of conflict. The Iran-Israel-U.S. triangle is still in motion—unsettled, unresolved, and increasingly unpredictable. As the fog of propaganda and politics thickens, one truth remains: No Side Has Won.
The next confrontation might not begin with missiles, but with data breaches, cyber sabotage, or AI-driven disinformation. Drones will darken skies, and electromagnetic pulses may silence cities before the first sirens wail.
Geopolitically, alignments are shifting. Iran is inching closer to the Sino-Russian bloc. Israel, more than ever, is dependent on Western military backing—particularly from the United States, whose internal divisions may soon render foreign intervention more difficult to sustain.
Yet, the most critical front in this conflict is not military—it is moral. As long as Gaza bleeds and Palestine remains under siege, the Middle East will burn from the embers of injustice. No doctrine of deterrence, no surgical strike, and no satellite proof can suppress the fire that rises from dispossession.
The war between Iran, Israel, and the United States has not ended—it has merely transformed. What lies ahead may test not only armies and arsenals but also the conscience of the world.
