Might Iran become Trump’s Iraq? Americans are wary — but shouldn’t be
The comparison falls apart in the details — at least for now
An electronic billboard advocating for “No War With Iran” drives past the U.S. Capitol Building June 19. Photo by Jemal Countess/Getty Images for Win Without War
Columnist Dan Perry June 19, 2025
When President Donald Trump speaks about Iran these days, Americans listen nervously. This week, Trump claimed credit for Israel’s successful strikes on Iranian nuclear facilities, boasting that “we” control Iran’s skies and that Tehran had ignored his 60-day deadline for compliance with demands for a new nuclear deal. He’s tweeted that Iran’s “unconditional surrender” would be preferable to a ceasefire.
So it would be forgivable if such bellicosity reminded Americans of the bluster that preceded the United States’ 2003 invasion of Iraq. Former President George W. Bush’s decision to topple the dictator Saddam Hussein, based on intelligence we now know to be faulty, led to a years-long quagmire that killed almost 4,500 U.S. military personnel and 200,000 Iraqi civilians while costing close to a trillion dollars. With that history in mind, it’s no wonder that a new Washington Post poll shows Americans opposing U.S. airstrikes on Iran by a 20-point margin — 45% opposed, 25% in favor — with 30% unsure.
But while concerns that a U.S. attack on Iran might result in another Iraq-scale disaster are understandable, the parallels are ultimately superficial.
Where the US went wrong in Iraq
To understand the present risk, we must revisit how the Iraq War unraveled. The U.S. invaded Iraq in 2003 with two aims: disabling a suspected weapons of mass destruction program, and toppling Saddam’s regime. The latter objective required not only military victory, but also the reconstruction of a functioning state.
With the second item, the U.S. failed spectacularly.
Its most critical error was the decision to dismantle Iraq’s governing infrastructure wholesale. The U.S. de-Baathification policy removed not only Saddam’s loyalists but also the bureaucrats, engineers and administrators who made the state function. The result was a governance vacuum, which created a fertile recruiting ground for militant groups, fueling a brutal insurgency.
Adding to the chaos was the unchecked empowerment of Iraq’s long-oppressed Shiite majority, which formed a new government that largely excluded Sunnis. This alienated former Sunni elites and militants — many of whom, even though they were quite secular, later found refuge in the ranks of the Islamic State group, a jihadi movement that presented itself as the protector of Sunni rights and trashed swaths of the country, causing the U.S. to go back in and develop a reliance on Shiite militias that were answerable to Iran.
In short, the Iraq War became a long, grinding occupation that ultimately strengthened Iran’s influence. The irony is almost unbearable: Washington toppled a secular Arab dictator, only to enable a chaotic sectarian war, the rise of the Islamic State group and the entrenchment of Iran-backed Shiite militias across Iraq, which now dominate a weak government in a badly divided country.
What makes Iran different
To say that Iran is different is not to dismiss the risks that would certainly accompany direct U.S. engagement. But the differences matter, and they are many.
Most importantly, there is no serious indication that the U.S. intends to invade Iran or carry out regime change through boots on the ground. The action Trump appears to be seriously considering is a limited airstrike, likely with deep-penetrating “bunker-buster” munitions, aimed at crippling Iran’s Fordow nuclear facility.
This is a site buried deep underground, which is likely impervious to Israeli weapons systems. The U.S. has the unique capabilities required to neutralize it. Doing so would enable the U.S. and Israel to declare victory in having disabled Iran’s nuclear program.
It would be a surgical strike, not a prelude to occupation. There are no known plans for ground troops, let alone for the U.S. to reshape Iran’s government post-strike. And, crucially, there’s no appetite among the American public or establishment for a repeat of 2003.
Plus, basically everyone, including Trump, knows that invading Iran — which, with 90 million people, has twice the population and four times the landmass of Iraq — could be catastrophic and is wildly out of proportion to any strategic interest.
Yes, much of the world, including large sectors of Iran’s population, would welcome a collapse of the regime. But the likelier scenario for that is an internal palace coup.
On the other hand, unlike with Iraq in 2003, which turned out to not have a functioning WMD program, Iran’s nuclear program is not a speculative threat. In Iran’s case, we have something closer to a consensus of concern: the International Atomic Energy Agency has confirmed Iran has achieved uranium enrichment at levels as high as 83.7%, tantalizingly close to weapons-grade.
Iran has stonewalled international inspectors, refused full cooperation, and continued to develop advanced centrifuges. Even U.S. and Israeli intelligence — which were cautious about earlier claims — now view Iran as being within technical reach of a nuclear bomb.
That doesn’t automatically justify war. But it does make the threat more concrete, and the strategic imperative more defensible, especially if other measures have failed.
Why it’s still dangerous
Still, danger remains. In the near term, Iran could and surely would retaliate against the U.S. if it chose to strike.
American assets in Qatar, the UAE and Iraq, including military bases with thousands of U.S. personnel, would be vulnerable. Iran could strike shipping in the Gulf, or worse, try to block the Strait of Hormuz, through which nearly a third of the world’s oil flows. That could trigger a global energy crisis and a market panic.
Plus, Yemen’s Houthis could ramp up attacks on global maritime trade headed to the Suez Canal. Escalation from there — whether intentional or accidental — is not unthinkable.
But unlike Iraq, where the U.S. created a vacuum and became responsible for filling it, there is little likelihood of the U.S. getting bogged down in a forever war. The risk lies not in whether the U.S. might get stuck in the region, but rather in how Iran’s regime might lash out on the way down.
Weighing the payoff
If Iran’s nuclear program is crippled, its threat to Israel will diminish, its ability to extort the West will evaporate, and its leverage over Arab neighbors will shrink.
Even if the regime survives, such a blow to its prestige and capabilities might alter its calculus. It might cease to invest so heavily in proxy militias, including Hezbollah in Lebanon, that undermine its Arab neighbors.
That’s why most regional players would quietly cheer such an outcome. The Arab Gulf states, though publicly cautious, fear a nuclear Iran more than they fear a humiliated one. European governments that have long clung to diplomacy might not mourn a more forceful resolution, especially one that doesn’t require a prolonged U.S. presence.
So Iran only risks becoming Trump’s Iraq if the U.S. makes the same mistakes for a second time: expanding the mission, underestimating the consequences, and becoming entangled in the aftermath. The shadow of Iraq will always loom, but it should guide us to caution, not paralysis.
