But this was a childish joke, the stuff of novelty songs. The United States had not, until Trump, bombed Iran. Nor had Iran directly attacked the United States. A close brush came in 1988, when, during some sea skirmishes between the two countries, a U.S. missile cruiser shot down an Iran Air flight carrying two hundred and ninety passengers and crew members. That was an accident, though, and President Ronald Reagan sent Iran’s leaders a note expressing “deep regret.” In nearly half a century of bombastic threats, the United States and Iran had never actually fought a war.
The reasons for that are becoming clearer. Since the end of the Second World War, in 1945, the United States sought to oversee world affairs. This involved interpreting U.S. interests broadly, so that nearly anything, anywhere, could be seen as relevant to national security. As the 9/11 Commission Report put it, “The American homeland is the planet.”
That global mission, in turn, has required justification, of the sort that allies could accept. “The world does not organize itself,” Joe Biden offered. It needs the United States “at the head of the table” to enforce the rules. No other country can effectively champion freedom, democracy, and human rights.
The hubris of all this became especially clear when George W. Bush, pursuing what he called a “freedom agenda,” invaded Iraq and overthrew Saddam Hussein. It was against such crusading that Donald Trump campaigned. He promised to put America first, and to take the fallen world as it was. Intervention was warranted only if there was a “direct threat to our national interests,” he maintained, and, even then, “we’d better have an airtight plan to win and get out.” Until this year, it was possible to argue that this shrunken sense of mission made Trump less likely to start wars.
Not anymore. For all the Bush-style recklessness that U.S. hegemony engendered, it also imposed limits. Past Presidents held back on attacking Iran for fear of damaging America’s legitimacy or its interests, broadly construed. Trump, caring little for either, has entered a major conflict with astonishing blitheness; the White House press secretary explained that Trump acted on a “feeling” that Iran would attack. His minimal commitments, rather than yielding a restrained foreign policy, have lowered the barrier to war.
Peter Beinart, writing in the Times, recently described Trump’s foreign policy as “imperialism.” Yet imperialism strives for empire—for control. Classic imperialism sought to bind disparate places together under a vast administrative structure, animated by a civilizing mission. It’s not hard to pin the “empire” charge on Trump’s predecessors, who have jealously guarded U.S. custody of the world system. But what’s striking about Trump is his shrugging indifference to overseas outcomes. You could call this regime-change nihilism; you can’t call it imperialism.
When the United States attacked Iran’s nuclear facilities in June of last year, Trump posted a video of bombers releasing their payloads to the tune of “Bomb Iran.” In starting this war, Trump has not only wreaked enormous havoc; he’s also liberated himself from the burdens of empire.
Although enmity between Washington and Tehran sprang up in 1979, the seeds were planted in the nineteen-fifties. That was when Iran’s Prime Minister, Mohammad Mosaddegh, made headlines by nationalizing Iran’s oil, reclaiming profits that had flowed overwhelmingly to Britain. In 1952, Time named Mosaddegh its Man of the Year.
