America's Iran war and the crisis of credibility

The US-Israel attack on Iran, widely viewed by legal experts as illegal under international law, is being framed in Washington as a necessary act of deterrence. But beyond the official language, it reveals something far more consequential. It exposes a deepening crisis of credibility, both within the United States and across the global order it claims to lead.

For much of the world, including countries like Pakistan, this is not simply another Middle Eastern conflict. It is a moment that highlights the widening gap between what the United States says about international law and restraint and how it acts when its allies are involved.

At home, the cracks are already visible. Support for another Middle Eastern conflict appears limited, particularly among younger Americans shaped by the failures of Iraq and Afghanistan. Yet US policy continues to move forward in ways that often seem disconnected from public sentiment. A foreign policy that lacks a stable domestic mandate is not only politically fragile but also strategically risky.

That question of whose interests are being served becomes more pointed in the context of US alignment with Israeli policy. Alliances are a normal part of international relations. But when escalation appears driven less by clearly articulated American interests and more by the imperatives of an ally, perceptions begin to shift. The language of "America First" loses coherence when the practice of policy suggests "Israel First".

It is in this broader context that Pakistan's role stands out. Multiple reports confirm that Islamabad played a central behind-the-scenes role in facilitating contacts between Washington and Tehran, hosting talks and relaying proposals between the two sides. Pakistan conveyed proposals, helped shape sequencing, and provided a channel through which both sides could engage when direct trust was lacking. At one stage, both US and Iranian proposals were passing through Islamabad, underscoring its role as a critical intermediary.

Yet these diplomatic efforts appear to have been repeatedly undermined at key moments. Reports indicate that negotiations faltered amid mistrust and external pressures, with both sides blaming each other for the breakdown. More pointedly, Iran's foreign minister suggested on X that external interference shifted the focus of negotiations away from US-Iran issues toward Israeli priorities, effectively derailing progress. The implication is difficult to ignore. When diplomatic openings emerge, they are vulnerable to disruption by actors who see continued escalation as strategically advantageous.

For observers outside the United States, this reinforces a longstanding perception that the so-called rules-based international order is applied selectively. It is enforced strictly against adversaries but interpreted more flexibly when it comes to allies. In regions that have experienced the consequences of this double standard, from Iraq to Gaza, such perceptions carry real weight.

The implications are not abstract. They are immediate and material for countries like Pakistan. Any escalation involving Iran risks destabilising an already volatile region, with consequences for energy markets, trade routes and internal security. Pakistan itself faces the prospect of spillover instability, given its geographic proximity, its ties to Gulf states, and its own internal pressures.

At the same time, the concentration of war-making authority within the US executive branch continues to raise concerns about accountability. Decisions with global consequences are often made with limited public debate and minimal legislative constraint. Over time, this has weakened democratic checks and contributed to the very credibility gap now on display.

Compounding this is the absence of a coherent political narrative within the United States. Republicans remain divided between rhetoric that emphasises restraint and policies that suggest continued intervention. Democrats often struggle to oppose escalation without appearing indifferent to security concerns. The result is not a robust democratic debate but a muted and cautious conversation around some of the most consequential decisions being made.

For much of the Global South, the issue is not simply Iran's conduct or the specifics of any single strike. It is the broader pattern. Power is exercised without consistent accountability, and the language of law is often overshadowed by the logic of force.

History offers a cautionary lesson. States rarely falter because they lack power. More often, they falter when the use of that power outpaces the institutions and norms designed to restrain it. The current moment suggests that the United States is confronting precisely this tension, between its capacity to act and its ability to justify those actions in a way that commands trust.

The Iran conflict did not create these contradictions, but it has brought them into sharper focus. It reveals a United States that remains militarily dominant yet politically divided, a society that is increasingly skeptical of war yet continues to be drawn into it, and a global order that is still shaped by American power but no longer anchored by universal confidence in its fairness.

For countries like Pakistan, the lesson is clear. The consequences of great power decisions are rarely confined to great powers. They ripple outward, shaping regional stability, economic conditions and diplomatic space.

In the end, the most significant question is not whether this conflict achieves its immediate objectives. It is whether it further erodes the credibility of a system that depends on the perception that its rules apply equally to all.

If that perception continues to weaken, the costs will not be borne by Washington alone.