A war without exit, a world without anchor

Park Jung-won

By Park Jung-won

• Published Apr 5, 2026 2:40 PM KST

The scene from U.S. President Donald Trump’s recent Cabinet meeting revealed more than was intended. His remarks drifted between escalation and negotiation, lacking coherence and direction. There was an unmistakable sense of urgency — an effort to find a way out as the economic strain began to materialize. Yet the officials seated beside him told a different story. While Trump projected confidence, the faces of those responsible for managing the situation reflected tension, not reassurance.

The central question is simple: What is the U.S.-Israeli war on Iran really about? Washington continues to cite the nuclear threat and regional instability. But at this stage, those explanations are no longer sufficient. The conflict has since shifted beyond its initial rationale. What is now at stake is far more concrete and far more consequential: control of the Strait of Hormuz.

Iran has effectively tightened its grip over the waterway, restricting passage and, according to reports, demanding payments for safe transit. Some accounts even suggest that such transactions are being conducted in currencies other than the U.S. dollar, including the Chinese yuan. Whether or not this has become a fully institutionalized system is beside the point. What matters is the signal it sends: Control over the world’s most critical energy corridor is no longer uncontested.

Markets have understood this clearly. Oil prices are not merely rising — they are entering a phase of structural instability. Financial markets are adjusting accordingly, pricing in sustained uncertainty rather than temporary fluctuation. Investors are no longer reacting to isolated events; they are beginning to factor in a prolonged strain on the system itself.

This is not simply an energy issue. It is the beginning of a broader economic shock. Rising energy costs will feed directly into inflation, intensify interest rate pressures, and constrain both investment and consumption. Supply chains, already fragile, face renewed stress. Financial volatility will not remain confined to markets — it will spill over into the real economy. Under these conditions, even limited shocks can escalate into systemic risk. What is unfolding is not a potential crisis.

And yet, Trump continues to claim that Iran is backing down, that negotiations are progressing. Tehran says otherwise. Markets do not believe him. International politics ultimately turns on credibility, and credibility, at this moment, is eroding rapidly. When words and reality diverge this sharply, the cost is measured not only in trust but in mounting uncertainty. So what options remain?

Iran is unlikely to retreat. For a regime built on ideological survival, concession is not a tactical adjustment — it is existential risk. But can the United States step back? Ending the war while leaving the strait effectively under Iranian control would not simply be a strategic setback. It would amount to a collapse of authority within the international order.

This is why the trajectory of the war is becoming increasingly difficult to reverse. Even as negotiations are invoked, the underlying dynamics are pushing toward deeper involvement. The range of options is narrowing, and the pressure is moving toward more direct forms of intervention — including, potentially, the consideration of ground operations. The risks are obvious. But what is less often acknowledged is that the alternatives are disappearing.

At this point, the issue is no longer confined to Washington. A sustained instability in the Strait of Hormuz would not be an American problem — it would be a systemic one. Europe and Asia would face immediate exposure to energy shocks and financial instability. What began as a strategic decision is rapidly becoming a structural crisis.

How did we get here? Geopolitical shifts — the growing assertiveness of Russia, China, Iran and North Korea — are part of the explanation. But they are not sufficient. The deeper issue lies elsewhere.

The language of norms remains intact. International law, order, principles — these are still invoked. But their application has become selective. The same principles justify intervention in one case and silence in another. What was once presented as a shared standard increasingly functions as a flexible instrument. Norms have not disappeared. They have been repurposed. The consequence is predictable. Actions may still claim legitimacy, but they struggle to command trust. And without trust, intervention ceases to stabilize — it prolongs.

Iran operates within this very dynamic. External pressure is more likely to reinforce internal cohesion than to weaken it. The Iranian regime, consolidated since 1979, cannot be dismantled through fragmented or inconsistent strategies. It would have required a far more deliberate approach, backed by coordinated international alignment. Instead, the current pattern of pressure risks producing the opposite effect. This is why the war is likely to drag on, even as its direction remains structurally fixed.

And this is no distant problem. South Korea sits in one of the most exposed geopolitical positions in the world. Its security and economic stability are directly tied to shifts in the international system. Yet its response has often been reactive rather than strategic, shaped more by domestic political conflict than by external realities.

If the current course continues, the fallout will not be marginal. Energy shocks alone could place severe pressure on industrial output and economic stability. Combined with financial volatility and growing security uncertainty, the impact could exceed anything previously experienced.

The United States has already signaled, through its evolving defense posture, that allies are expected to assume greater responsibility for conventional threats. This is not new. But what happens when signaling turns into policy? What happens if Washington, under mounting pressure, moves beyond ambiguity and adopts a far more explicit form of disengagement?

In such a scenario, the shift would not unfold gradually. It would be abrupt. And the repercussions would be immediate. Is South Korea prepared for that moment? Can a country consumed by daily domestic political conflict realistically navigate a geopolitical shock of this magnitude?

The war with Iran is not just another regional conflict. It is a test of how the international order actually functions — and how it fails. This is no longer a threat on the horizon. It is already unfolding — and no one will remain outside its consequences.

Park Jung-won (park_jungwon@hotmail.com), Ph.D. in law from the London School of Economics (LSE), is a professor of international law at Dankook University.