
Antonio Navalón
Today, at the slightest tremor, the whole world trembles. It may be due to malice, ignorance, or that almost automatic need to react without understanding why. However, this is nothing new. It has happened before. Back in 1938, Orson Welles’s radio broadcast of “The War of the Worlds” succeeded in sowing panic among a large portion of the American population, who even came to believe they were facing a real invasion. It was not just an anecdotal episode; it was a clear demonstration of how easy it is to distort collective perception when no distinction is made between what is happening and what is believed to be happening.

Distinguishing between reality and fiction is no minor exercise; it is a basic requirement for mental health and social stability. The world has already experienced moments when that boundary becomes blurred. During the Cuban Missile Crisis in 1962, the entire world held its breath at the real possibility of nuclear war. It was no exaggeration; it was proof that a strategic decision could trigger irreversible destruction.

Then, as now, many decisions border on irrationality. Deploying missiles in Cuba was meant to provoke a direct reaction from the United States, shorten response times, and increase the risk of an immediate attack. That logic has not disappeared. Today, although there is no conclusive evidence that Iran possesses nuclear weapons, we live in an environment that is far more chaotic, fragmented, and difficult to contain.

The problem is not just what we know, but what might happen. A miscalculation, a hasty decision, a fit of rage from Donald Trump, or a poorly managed escalation could change everything. The tension between Iran and Israel is not new, but it is becoming increasingly costly and difficult to sustain. And, as so often, the strategic burden ends up falling on the United States, even when it is not the main actor. However, the one who still cannot let go of his desire to be the center of attention at all times is the man who was once the star of the show “The Apprentice.” The problem is that there comes a point in life when, if one cannot distinguish between the world of show business and reality, the consequences can be catastrophic.

Meanwhile, war ceases to be a hypothesis and becomes an unfolding reality. And that is where what truly matters comes in: the leadership of those who steer it, their example, prudence, maturity, and ability to understand the consequences. Governing a war is not about starting it; it is about knowing how to contain it.

For years, strategic thinking has ceased to be a serious endeavor. It has been replaced by closed circles, complacent narratives, and a dangerous tendency to glorify the current leader as the greatest strategist above anyone in history. There are those who—in their delusions of grandeur—believe themselves to be above Julius Caesar, Alexander the Great, Napoleon, or even Stalin. Today, that narcissistic delusion is embodied in the current U.S. Secretary of Defense, Pete Hegseth.

When it is proudly claimed that with less than 10% of U.S. military might, an adversary like Iran has been neutralized, what follows is not celebration, but an inevitable question. If, as is so often claimed, the war and the Iranian threat have already been contained, why are missiles still falling and tensions still escalating? Why did the ceasefire fail, just hours after it was agreed upon? The fact is, if it is not clear before the first shot is fired how the aftermath will be handled, then there is no strategy—only improvisation.

Any of the actions taken by Donald Trump amid this entire scenario required and demanded a solid institutional foundation. The U.S. House of Representatives and Senate are not mere formalities; they are a counterweight. That is why they were created. Therein lies the true power and significance of having a system of “checks and balances.” The question regarding authorization for the use of force is not minor; it is central. And behind it lies the most important question of all: what is the true objective—war or peace?

Wars begin to be lost the moment they are won. That is where the real problems arise. History proves this time and again. Postwar improvisation, lack of planning, and inability to control the consequences make any victory a greater risk.

The economic impact is immediate and global. Every conflict in a strategic region—in this case, the much-discussed Strait of Hormuz—translates into higher energy costs, inflationary pressure, and instability. Every ship carrying gas or oil becomes a factor in reconstruction for some and a cost for others. No one is left out. That is why the question of who wins and who loses rarely has a clear answer.

Iran does not clearly appear among the defeated, nor among the victors. However, what is very important to keep in mind is the economic enrichment they are gaining from this entire situation. Every ship seeking to pass through the Strait of Hormuz has become a source of profit for the Iranians.

The United States cannot claim victory either in a scenario of prolonged instability. Trump has gone from being the one who promised to end all the world’s wars and be a symbol of peace to a figure who is, in reality, synonymous with instability. Meanwhile, the rest of the world—to a greater or lesser extent—is paying the price.

We are paying in the form of higher fuel prices, inflationary pressure, and uncertainty. We are paying the price through the erosion of the international order. The institutions that should contain these dynamics are showing clear limitations and demonstrating their limited capacity to act as mediators or diplomatic instruments. Simply put, it has become clear that there is no global architecture capable of effectively responding to conflicts of this nature.

The world, rather than an actor, has become a victim. A victim of decisions it does not control, of incomplete strategies, and of conflicts that have been brewing for too long and now seem to be spilling over.

War remains distinct from any other form of confrontation. Not only because of its capacity for destruction, but because of what it reveals: improvisation, a lack of clarity, and the absence of a defined strategic direction. Amid tragic weeks filled with uncertainty, where everything changes from one moment to the next, the real problem is not knowing how wars begin, but that no one seems to have a clear idea of how they will end.

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