Trump's Persian Gulf Brinkmanship: A Reckless Bet on Unilateral Power
By Victoria Chen-Hartwell | Circus of Power | January 28, 2026
The Persian Gulf, that vital artery of global commerce and energy, is once again a tinderbox, its waters churning with the shadows of aircraft carriers and the echoes of threats exchanged across diplomatic cables. President Trump's latest escalation—deploying a U.S. strike group to within striking distance of Iranian shores and issuing stark warnings of military action—places at risk not just regional stability but the fragile scaffolding of the international order we have spent decades erecting. With Brent crude futures already spiking 5 percent to $85 a barrel amid reports of a 20-30 percent drop in shipping traffic, the economic tremors are palpable. Insurers have hiked premiums on U.S.-flagged vessels by labeling them at "heightened risk," a quiet acknowledgment that miscalculation could ignite a conflagration costing the global economy hundreds of billions and dragging growth by as much as 0.5 percent in Europe alone, according to IMF projections. But the deeper peril lies in the erosion of norms: bypassing the United Nations, sidelining allies, and tempting fate with unilateral force in an era when multilateralism is our best bulwark against chaos.
This is no isolated flare-up. It builds on a pattern of the Trump administration's second term, now a year old, where "maximum pressure" has morphed into outright adventurism. Yesterday's Mar-a-Lago remarks from the president—"Iran thinks they can play games; we have the best military, and we'll use it if needed"—came hours after maritime intelligence flagged disruptions tied to Iranian proxies in Yemen and Syria. The regime's nuclear ambitions, long a flashpoint, have been cited as justification, even as U.S. contingency plans for airstrikes on Iranian facilities circulate quietly in Washington. Iran's response was swift and unyielding: its UN mission vowed to "respond like never before," while air defenses hummed to life along the Strait of Hormuz. No shots have been fired—yet—but the redeployment of the USS Abraham Lincoln carrier group evokes the tense standoffs of 2019, when tanker attacks drove oil prices up 15 percent and exposed the Gulf's vulnerability to asymmetric threats.
As a former State Department official who navigated the corridors of diplomacy under both Republican and Democratic administrations, I have seen how such escalations unravel. The 2019 incidents, under Trump's first term, were a prelude: Iranian mines and seizures disrupted flows through the strait, which carries 20 percent of the world's oil. Today, with global supply chains still frayed from post-pandemic recovery and the Ukraine war's ripple effects, the stakes are exponentially higher. A sustained closure could add $10 to $20 per barrel, per Bloomberg estimates, fueling inflation at a time when central banks are already wrestling with persistent pressures. For American households, particularly those in energy-dependent heartlands, this translates to higher gas prices and grocery bills—concerns I do not dismiss lightly, having witnessed firsthand how policy failures abroad exacerbate domestic hardships. Yet Trump's approach, framed by hawks like Senator Tom Cotton as restoring deterrence after what he calls Biden-era "weakness," risks far more than pocketbook pain. It invites a spiral of retaliation that could draw in Russia, which has deepened ties with Tehran, or even China, unsettled by U.S. adventurism in its own backyard, as noted in a recent Economist analysis.
Allies, those pillars of the liberal international order, are sounding alarms that underscore the diplomatic fallout. The UK Foreign Secretary deemed the moves "reckless escalation" in a BBC interview, warning of oil spikes that could cripple Europe's already strained economies. EU diplomats, speaking off the record to Foreign Policy, fret that this undermines NATO cohesion at a moment when the alliance faces existential tests from Moscow's aggression. Saudi Arabia, Iran's regional rival, has expressed hesitation through backchannels, per Stratfor reporting, wary of being pulled into a conflict that could boomerang on its own oil infrastructure. This is the cost of unilateralism: when the U.S. acts alone, it alienates partners essential for burden-sharing. Historical parallels abound—the Gulf of Tonkin resolution in 1964, which greenlit Vietnam's quagmire on dubious pretexts, or the 2003 Iraq invasion, launched without broad UN backing and leaving a vacuum for extremism. Trump's "Board of Peace" initiative, ostensibly a diplomatic olive branch, feels like a rebranded echo of those missteps, masking expansionism under the guise of resolve.
Domestic reactions reveal the fissures within America itself. On X, the hashtag #IranThreat has amassed over 45,000 posts, a cacophony of MAGA cheers for "enforcing maximum pressure" clashing with progressive invocations of "Bush-era madness." Representative Ilhan Omar captured the latter sentiment succinctly: "This is endless war redux—Congress must reclaim war powers." Even Elon Musk, a sometime Trump ally, tweeted support for "strong action" but hedged on the economic fallout, a nod to the market jitters already evident in yesterday's 1.2 percent Dow dip. Anti-Trump voices, like the @MeidasTouch account, amplify Iranian state media clips to paint the president as a warmonger distracting from domestic woes. These divisions are not mere partisan noise; they erode the institutional checks that have historically tempered executive overreach. The War Powers Resolution of 1973, intended to prevent another Tonkin, lies dormant as contingency plans advance without congressional debate. In a polarized Congress, where shutdown fears over DHS funding already loom, reclaiming these prerogatives feels like a distant prospect.
Complexity demands nuance: Iran's regime is no benign actor. Its support for Houthi attacks on Red Sea shipping and militia operations in Syria has provoked legitimate outrage, and its nuclear program—now enriching uranium to near-weapons-grade levels, per IAEA reports—poses a proliferation risk that cannot be ignored. Tehran's vows of unprecedented response are not bluster; they recall the 1988 USS Samuel B. Roberts mining, which nearly sparked full-scale war. Yet escalation begets escalation. Trump's strategy, if it can be called that, ignores the lessons of the 2015 Joint Comprehensive Plan of Action (JCPOA), the Iran nuclear deal that verifiably capped enrichment in exchange for sanctions relief. Withdrawing from it in 2018 unleashed the very advances we now decry. Renewing multilateral talks, perhaps through a revamped P5+1 framework, offers a pragmatic path: engage Europe and even cautious Gulf states to isolate Iran diplomatically while preserving U.S. leverage. This is not appeasement but statecraft—leveraging alliances to enforce red lines without courting catastrophe.
Broader geopolitical realignments amplify the urgency. Russia's war in Ukraine has already strained global energy markets; Iranian disruptions would compound that, potentially emboldening Beijing to test U.S. resolve in the Taiwan Strait. As a hawk on Moscow, I see Trump's Syria overtures to Putin as a dangerous flirtation that could embolden Tehran further. On China, where I advocate competition laced with engagement, this Gulf gambit sows seeds of distrust, complicating efforts to coordinate on nonproliferation. The rules-based order, forged in the ashes of World War II, thrives on predictability and partnership. Trump's unilateralism frays it, normalizing might over right and inviting adversaries to follow suit—witness China's South China Sea maneuvers or Russia's hybrid threats.
Pragmatic reform is essential. Congress should invoke war powers consultations now, not after the first missile launches. The administration could signal de-escalation by tabling airstrike plans publicly, while quietly advancing Track II dialogues with Iranian moderates. Internationally, bolstering the UN's role—perhaps through a Security Council resolution on Gulf shipping—would reaffirm multilateralism. These steps honor the expertise of career diplomats and think tanks like Brookings, where I serve as a senior fellow, emphasizing process over posturing.
In the end, the Gulf crisis is a microcosm of our fraying global compact. Trump's brinkmanship may yield short-term applause from his base, but it gambles with the stability that underpins markets, alliances, and democratic norms. We are not naive about Iran's threats, nor about the working families bearing the brunt of energy volatility. But true strength lies in institutions properly administered—incremental diplomacy over impulsive force. To preserve the order we cherish, America must lead not as a lone ranger, but as a convener of the willing. The alternative is a world adrift, where the Gulf's flames consume us all.
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Victoria Chen-Hartwell is a former State Department official and senior fellow at the Brookings Institution, writing on international order and democratic institutions.
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