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Tobias Ellwood

What does victory in Iran look like?

What does victory in Iran look like?
Photo by Danial Dez / Unsplash
Military success is the easy part. What follows is infinitely more complex.

What does victory look like? It is the defining question of this moment. Far more hangs on the answer than many appreciate.

For more than four decades since the 1979 revolution, Iran has vexed successive American presidents. The 444-day hostage crisis set the tone. The Iran-Iraq war entrenched hostility. Tehran’s underwriting of Assad prolonged Syria’s agony. Its sponsorship of proxy militias has destabilised Lebanon, Iraq, Yemen and beyond. And hanging over everything has been the persistent shadow of a nuclear weapon.

Now Donald Trump has acted when every predecessor has hesitated. History will judge the wisdom of his decision to strike Iran by what happens next. Will he be remembered as the leader who helped Iran turn a corner after decades of theocratic rule, or as the one who lost control of a conflict that spread far beyond the Middle East?

Military action is the visible part. Strategy is the test. Supporting the use of overwhelming force by a superpower, particularly at a time when the global order is fragmenting, is not a decision to treat lightly. Nor should Britain confuse loyalty with silence.

The “special relationship” is  not sustained by applause or sycophancy. It is strengthened by candour. Forged in the furnace of the Second World War, it rests on a shared commitment to defend international norms and uphold a stable, rules-based order. That partnership has endured because Britain has never been a passive ally. We bring geopolitical insight shaped by centuries of engagement, global diplomatic reach, intelligence connectivity, military credibility and the experience to anticipate second and third-order consequences. At critical moments, we have offered a steadying hand. Those who demand blind loyalty misunderstand the nature of the relationship. A true ally asks the difficult question: what next?

No one disputes the malign character of the Iranian regime, its repression at home, its export of extremism abroad, its destabilising influence across the region. Nor should we underestimate the seriousness of preventing nuclear proliferation in one of the world’s most volatile theatres.

But bombing is the easy part. What follows is infinitely more complex. Afghanistan and Iraq stand as cautionary tales. In both cases, initial military success was not matched by political clarity. Objectives evolved. End states blurred. Interventions that may have been justified faltered because there was no agreed answer to the question of victory. The cost was measured in lives, resources and credibility.

So, we return to the essential point: what does victory look like in Iran? Is it the destruction of nuclear facilities?  Regime change? Or something more ambiguous, a degraded capability without a defined political settlement?

Without clarity, mission creep becomes inevitable. Escalation follows. Miscalculation thrives in ambiguity. Iran’s proxy network retains the capacity for retaliation. The Strait of Hormuz remains a global economic pressure point. Western assets in the region are already under threat. Cyber reprisals, including against the UK, should be expected. Whatever reservations some may have had about the strike, the reality is unavoidable: Britain is implicated. Our interests are engaged. Fence-sitting is no longer an option.

Public equivocation now serves little purpose. The Prime Minister was slow to recognise both the risks and the opportunity: to help shape the outcome. If this moment is to lead to something more than a tactical exchange of blows, it must be guided towards a defined political end state.

When the bombs eventually stop, three broad outcomes present themselves. They don’t include the late Shah’s son returning to lead the country.

First there is the “Venezuela” outcome. After weeks of strikes, a back-channel deal emerges. Iran limits aspects of its nuclear and missile programmes and reins in some proxy activity. The regime survives, wounded but intact. Sanctions adjust. Rhetoric cools. Washington claims deterrence restored; Tehran claims resilience. The underlying contest endures. The Iranian people see little change.

Second there is the prospect of regime collapse followed by civil war. Too many leaders are removed. Command structures fracture. Protests reignite. Jubilation gives way to fragmentation as monarchists, reformists, ethnic movements and hardliners compete for power. In the vacuum, the Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps consolidates control. A theocracy gives way to military authoritarianism. Instability deepens. Again, ordinary Iranians pay the price.

Third is the possibility of a managed transition. The regime falls and the armed forces remain in barracks, or are compelled to do so. International support underwrites a transitional authority. Essential services stabilise. A constitutional framework emerges. Economic reconstruction begins. Iran takes its first steps toward a more open future.

As things stand, the first scenario appears most likely. The third is clearly the most desirable, for Iran, the region and the wider world. But it is also the most demanding. It would require sustained American commitment, coordinated diplomacy and deliberate statecraft. That makes it the least probable.

This is where Britain must play its part. After initial hesitation, we are now engaged. Whatever one’s view of how this conflict began, it is firmly in our national interest to shape how it ends.

Britain retains important advantages: historic Gulf relationships, deep regional expertise, diplomatic credibility and genuine convening power. We are a permanent member of the UN Security Council. Our intelligence services are respected worldwide. Our Armed Forces remain capable and fully interoperable with America’s. And where Washington often defaults to hard power, Britain brings patient diplomacy, coalition-building and the ability to translate military success into political settlement.

The lesson of the past quarter century is stark: military power can open the door, but only political clarity determines what comes next. The question is no longer whether Iran’s behaviour warrants confrontation. That moment has passed. The question is whether the West can define success – and persuade America to sustain the course required to achieve it.

-END-

First published in The Telegraph on 4th March 2026.

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