Antonio Navalón
It seems that when Donald Trump chose his cabinet, he did so with two very specific conditions in mind. The first was that none of its members—with exceptions such as Marco Rubio—would pose a political threat to his own prominence or be of equal value to him. The second was that he—so effusive in his expression, so irreverent in his convictions, and so provocative in his judgment—needed to surround himself with a Secretary of War whose toughness would make him appear refined, elegant, and considerate.
The current U.S. Secretary of War, Pete Hegseth, made this clear. In one of his appearances, alongside the Chief of Staff, he gave a presentation reminiscent of the worst rhetorical traditions of the world that still calls itself civilized. He did not limit himself to giving the military report—explaining the situation of the forces and the development of U.S. operations—which is his institutional obligation. When he spoke of the first deaths in the conflict, he stated that they would be avenged.
His statement was not accidental. At another point, when referring to the selective elimination of Iranian leaders using advanced Israeli military technology, he used an even more disturbing term: extermination. When such language comes from those who wage war, it is inevitable to think that the conflict has entered a particularly dangerous phase.
War is terrible. It always has been and always will be. However, humanity has survived all wars. Even though with each generation, the level of destruction, brutality, and technological capacity to harm each other increases. What is worrying is that on this occasion, a quick or limited solution does not seem possible.
This is not a brief episode or a military operation lasting a few days, such as the one that ended with the capture and removal of Nicolás Maduro in Venezuela. Nor are we facing a regional conflict that can be extinguished with a few bombings on Tehran or with quick negotiations between governments. The current scale of the problem is much greater. It is also worth remembering something that is sometimes too easily forgotten: the Arab world remains a fundamental factor for stability and peace in Europe. Any profound destabilization in that region has direct consequences for European security. Just imagine for a moment the scenario that could unfold. Terrorist attacks, rebellions, political destabilization, and episodes of insecurity that could spread to different parts of the world. Even to the United States of America itself.
The country that, despite its enormous intelligence and security apparatus, suffered the most devastating terrorist attack in contemporary history on September 11, 2001, when the attack on the Twin Towers showed that even the great powers can be vulnerable. The world is in danger. Everyone can decide for themselves who to attribute political or strategic responsibility to. But what seems clear is that the time has come to start taking stock calmly.
I’m not trying to be a party pooper. Ever since I was born, I have been clear about where I am, where I belong, and what civilization I belong to. I have never wondered if, deep down, I would have preferred to be born in Ethiopia or Somalia. I am from here. And here, in political and cultural terms, is Europe and North America. I am not crazy, nor do I harbor any kind of revolutionary spirit other than that of establishing order. From that position, there is little room for doubt. My strategic reference point and my champion in this fight can be none other than the United States. From there, it is worth observing developments in some European countries. Spain is one of them.
The Spanish Prime Minister, Pedro Sánchez, is a politician who arouses admiration in part of his electorate for a very particular quality: his ability to withstand political pressure in extreme situations. In Spanish, the word “courage” is often associated with the strength to endure or, excuse my colloquialism, to have balls. In the English-speaking world, however, this term refers more to the ability to remain calm under pressure.
Spain is a country where resistance has historically been admired, even when it borders on self-destruction. This is despite being classified—along with Turkey—as one of the countries with the most internecine strife in its past. In this context, Sánchez—a leader facing significant internal political problems and governing with the support of a very fragile coalition—has decided to remain in power through complex parliamentary alliances, many of them based on political forces that base part of their discourse on rejecting the United States or Donald Trump.
This positioning also comes at a particularly delicate moment for Europe. Countries such as France, Italy, and Germany are facing intense debates on immigration, integration, and security. Europe is being held hostage by the Arab wave. Spain is no stranger to this discussion, among other reasons, because a significant part of its population has origins in North African or Arab countries.
Amid this landscape, Sánchez has chosen to present himself as a defender of international law, even though his critics argue that his government has weakened institutional quality within the country itself. The paradox is evident. Global legality is invoked while the soundness of national legality is debated. Meanwhile, the international conflict continues, and the margin for quick solutions is increasingly narrow. Pedro Sánchez’s goal is clear: to hold on to power for at least another year. And we’ll see, he’ll probably succeed and perhaps be lucky enough—amid this threat of global Armageddon—to get away without paying.
I had the opportunity to experience Tehran before the Islamic revolution, the Tehran of the Shah. Its appeal lay in the historical depth of the Persian empire, the cultural richness of the Farsi language, and the elegance of an elite that maintained close ties with the West.
Everything changed with the 1979 revolution led by Ayatollah Ruhollah Khomeini, predecessor of the recently assassinated Ayatollah Ali Khamenei. That transformation was not solely the result of internal religious mobilization. It was also the consequence of a series of strategic decisions in Washington that ultimately weakened the Shah’s regime decisively and opened the door to the ayatollahs. For years, the United States had been the main supporter of the Iranian Shah—from the 1953 coup against Mohammad Mossadegh, organized with the participation of the CIA and MI6, to constant military and political support during the Cold War. However, when the regime began to falter in 1978, the Jimmy Carter administration adopted an ambiguous stance, supporting its historic ally while publicly pressuring the Shah.
Washington pressed the Shah to avoid harsher repression and promoted the idea of a controlled political transition. However, things did not turn out as expected, and the Shah left Iran in January 1979. That power vacuum allowed for the triumphant return of Khomeini and the Ayatollah regime.
What some in Washington once imagined as a possible political evolution ended up becoming the establishment of a radical clerical power that redefined the strategic balance in the Middle East for decades. Since then, the world has paid—and will probably continue to pay for a long time to come—the consequences of that historic turn of events. The worst thing about war is not what has already happened, but what may come in the form of revenge, score-settling, and miscalculation.
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