Long before the present war, I argued that Iran needed a different leadership—or a fundamental transformation of the regime itself. I did so not because I imagined that removing a government would magically bring peace, but because I believed the Middle East deserved a future beyond ideological confrontation. I saw a region whose young people, including millions of Iranians, wanted universities instead of militias, opportunity instead of permanent confrontation, and the freedom to build rather than destroy.
Was I wrong to imagine a different Middle East? Perhaps I underestimated the obstacles. What matters now is building a path toward it.
The Iranian regime has given the world ample reason to oppose its conduct. It has met demands for dignity with repression and killings, armed groups that destabilize its neighbors, and invested in a nuclear program that threatens regional security. American and Israeli forces have dealt a severe blow to its nuclear infrastructure—a significant military achievement. The imperative now is to secure those gains permanently: deny Iran a path to nuclear weapons and ensure all enriched material is accounted for under enforceable verification.
The broader Iranian challenge remains political. Tehran’s rulers have made intimidation abroad and coercion at home instruments of government. Military pressure can alter their capabilities; it cannot alone alter the doctrine that gives those capabilities their purpose. Without a change of direction inside Iran, the next confrontation may merely be postponed.
President Donald Trump was right to recognize the seriousness of the threat. His administration has shown it can use overwhelming force. What Washington has not yet adequately demonstrated is how that force becomes a political result. The president must now decide whether he wants Iran to consume the remainder of his presidency—or whether he can give this confrontation a strategic conclusion.
Time is Tehran’s weapon. Its leaders may calculate that they need not defeat America or Israel. They need only survive another month, another election, another round of escalation, until fatigue weakens their adversaries. A war without a defined destination gives them that opportunity. Neither another strike nor another sanction can substitute for an endgame.
Israel’s security concerns are real. No nation should be expected to live indefinitely under threats of annihilation, and Israelis have endured repeated attacks with remarkable resilience. Yet lasting security cannot rest on an open-ended war. Military strength must lead to a clear political horizon; no nation can make a state of emergency its permanent destiny.
The Arab Gulf states have even more at stake than most commentary acknowledges. The UAE, Saudi Arabia, Bahrain, Qatar, Kuwait, and Oman have spent decades turning their countries into centers of commerce, investment, innovation, and international exchange. Iranian attacks have tested their defenses and their resilience. But their concern reaches far beyond the Strait of Hormuz. An uncontrolled war without defined objectives, a realistic timeframe, or a convincing plan for what follows could jeopardize decades of achievement. Their security and prosperity must help shape the endgame.
There is a profound contrast here. Tehran’s rulers have sought influence through militias and intimidation. The Gulf’s most dynamic states have sought influence through prosperity and connection. It would be a tragic irony if the struggle against Iran’s destructive model undermined the very alternatives that have proved a different Middle East possible. America must protect its allies, their infrastructure, and the stability on which their development depends.
Economic pressure offers another form of leverage. Iran’s own October statistics show consumer prices nearly 90 percent higher than a year earlier. Sanctions, a blockade of oil exports, war, and domestic mismanagement have tightened the regime’s options and devastated household purchasing power. But, pressure must be directed at the structures that finance repression and regional aggression, and paired with a credible prospect of relief when Tehran changes course.
Political change, therefore, must be an explicit objective—but not a slogan concealing the absence of a plan.
That is why the immediate strategy must have clear tests: verifiable restraints on nuclear capabilities and an accounting of enriched material; credible protection for Israel and America’s Arab allies against missiles, drones, and proxy attacks; guaranteed freedom of navigation through Hormuz; and calibrated economic relief only in return for measurable changes. Such a settlement need not await regime change. But neither should it confer a blank check on the existing regime or foreclose the Iranian people’s right to shape their future.
Diplomacy also needs a regional destination. A subsequent, broader negotiation on regional security, however, belongs in the Gulf itself. Abu Dhabi would be a compelling venue if the parties accept it. Through the Abraham Accords, the UAE have shown that coexistence can yield real diplomatic and economic possibilities. A conference there could address security guarantees, nonaggression, and eventual economic reintegration—not merely the next ceasefire. It would build upon existing mediation, not erase it.
I still believe in the Middle East I imagined: an Israel secure in its existence, Arab states free to prosper, and an Iran whose young people no longer live under the shadow of permanent revolution. Whether that vision proves possible will depend on the choices made now. We must not surrender it either to Tehran’s coercion or to a war without end.
Military success must now become strategic victory: an Iranian regime no longer able to threaten its neighbors, a credible path to political change for the Iranian people, and a Middle East secure enough to build its future in prosperity.
