War : Survivors, Memory, and Moral Responsibility (5)

Indonesia has formally offered itself as a mediator in the conflict that erupted on 28 February 2026, when the United States and Israel launched a joint military operation against Iran. Indonesia's Ministry of Foreign Affairs explicitly stated the government's readiness to facilitate dialogue in order to create conducive security conditions, and even declared that the President of Indonesia was willing to travel to Tehran to conduct mediation should both parties agree to it. But how substantial is Indonesia's actual capacity to play such a role?

Indonesia's Strengths: Genuine Capital

The most fundamental strength that Indonesia possesses as a prospective mediator is its identity as a moderate and democratic Muslim nation. As the country with the world's largest Muslim population, Indonesia holds the moral legitimacy to advance dialogue, mediation, and preventive diplomacy in response to global tensions. This moral legitimacy is by no means trivial in the context of a conflict involving Iran as an Islamic state: Jakarta can speak to Tehran in a language that Washington or Tel Aviv simply cannot—the language of Islamic world solidarity, unsullied by any direct military interest in the Middle East.

Upon this moral foundation, Indonesia also possesses a long and consistent track record of diplomacy. Indonesia has repeatedly adopted an impartial stance towards Iran's isolation by the United States and its allies, in order to maintain good relations with Tehran, and has actively served as a mediator between Iran and the international community, particularly with the United States, including by advocating for the lifting of sanctions. It is this track record that renders Indonesia far from a newcomer in Iranian diplomatic affairs — there exists a degree of trust and established channels of communication that have been built over many years. Furthermore, Indonesia can leverage its membership in the Organisation of Islamic Cooperation (OIC) to push for consensus regarding recent developments, call for an immediate cessation of all forms of violence, and strongly condemn the escalation in the Middle East. Indonesia's standing within the OIC furnishes it with a multilateral platform that can significantly amplify the weight of its diplomatic bargaining position.

Another strength that is frequently overlooked is Indonesia's unique position of straddling two worlds simultaneously. By positioning itself as a bridge between the West and the Islamic world, Indonesia appears to be endeavouring to balance pro-Iran sentiment at home whilst preserving the economic and security agreements recently secured with the United States. It is precisely this presence on both sides that constitutes a diplomatic asset: Indonesia enjoys communicative access to Washington through the BoP and the bilateral trade agreement, whilst simultaneously maintaining credibility in the eyes of Tehran as a Muslim nation that has never been hostile towards Iran.

Indonesia's Weaknesses: Real Obstacles

Regrettably, the strengths outlined above must be weighed against several serious structural weaknesses. The most significant obstacle ironically, stems from a situation of Prabowo's own making — namely, Indonesia's membership in the Board of Peace. Indonesia's mediation offer sounds ambitious, yet various factors suggest that it amounts more to an optical performance than genuine operational influence — in a conflict that is actively escalating, in which the United States and its allies have already launched airstrikes and Tehran has responded militarily, such language appears more as an attempt to secure a seat on the global diplomatic circuit than a genuinely credible peace initiative. 

This credibility deficit is compounded by Indonesia's initial response, which was widely regarded as excessively muted. Indonesia refrained from condemning the attack outright, and merely expressed that it "deeply regretted" the failure of negotiations and called for restraint — a striking contrast to, for instance, Malaysia and Brunei, which were considerably more forthright in condemning the US-Israeli strikes. In the eyes of Iran and the broader Islamic world, a nation that is reluctant to characterise a military strike as wrongful conduct is difficult to regard as a genuinely neutral mediator. Some observers have questioned whether any peace agenda can truly deliver justice for Palestine whilst the United States and Israel are actively conducting strikes and killing leaders, a question that implicitly challenges Indonesia's legitimacy, given that it has bound itself to the US-led BoP framework.

The Sunni-Shia dimension is also a complication that must not be overlooked. Although Indonesia and Iran are each globally recognised as the countries with the largest Sunni and Shia Muslim populations, respectively, the Sunni-Shia divide has engendered suspicion among some Sunni Muslims in Indonesia regarding the spread of Shia beliefs within the country. This reality constrains Prabowo's domestic political room for manoeuvre in pursuing too openly warm a diplomatic alignment with Tehran.

The Potential Exists, but the Path Is Arduous

On the whole, for Indonesia, this is by no means a distant geopolitical drama. Instability in the Middle East will send shockwaves through global energy markets, disrupt supply chains, and burden the already fragile economic recovery of developing nations. Indonesia has a genuine incentive to become an effective mediator — not merely for reasons of image, but in the service of its own national interest. Its legitimacy capital as a moderate, democratic Muslim nation with a historic tradition of non-aligned diplomacy is a real and tangible asset. However, for as long as Indonesia remains bound to the Trump-led BoP, refrains from condemning military strikes in unequivocal terms, and responds only with expressions of "deep regret", its mediation offer will continue to sound more like ambition than genuine capacity — at least in the eyes of Tehran, which is ultimately the party whose acceptance or rejection of that offer matters most.

Indonesia's Position in the Board of Peace: A Constitutional Perspective

The central constitutional touchstone for evaluating Indonesia's membership in the Board of Peace is the Preamble to the 1945 Constitution (Pembukaan UUD 1945), which expressly declares that one of the fundamental goals of the Indonesian state is "to participate in the establishment of a world order based on freedom, lasting peace, and social justice" (ikut melaksanakan ketertiban dunia yang berdasarkan kemerdekaan, perdamaian abadi dan keadilan sosial). The Prabowo government has invoked precisely this clause to justify its decision, arguing that Indonesia's participation in the BoP is a concrete implementation of its independent and active foreign policy, and this principle emphasises Indonesia's active involvement in international forums to achieve world peace, as stated in the Preamble to the 1945 Constitution. On its face, this argument has constitutional plausibility: a body nominally dedicated to peace reconstruction would appear to sit comfortably within the constitutional mandate to promote lasting peace.

However, the constitutional case against membership is equally—if not more—compelling when one examines the deeper principles embedded in the same Preamble and in the broader constitutional architecture. The Preamble also enshrines the notion that independence is the right of all nations (kemerdekaan ialah hak segala bangsa), and that colonialism in all its forms must be abolished. The first major criticism of the BoP concerns the fundamental paradox of the organisation itself: it has notably excluded Palestine, an immediate victim of the ongoing conflict, while extending membership to Israel — a configuration that is considered unfair and unequal and that undermines the spirit of justice in international conflict resolution. From a constitutional standpoint, participating in a body that structurally marginalises the very people whose independence Indonesia has historically championed sits in profound tension with the Preamble's anti-colonial ethos.

The constitutional principle of bebas aktif—the free and active foreign policy doctrine that serves as the operational expression of the Preamble—adds another layer of constitutional concern. Critics argue that Indonesia's decision risks diluting its normative foreign policy principles, and the decision needs to be viewed in a wider context of what analysts describe as a transactional strategic shift under President Prabowo. The constitutional ideal of "free" (bebas) foreign policy means freedom from the gravitational pull of great power blocs, yet Indonesia was motivated to join by the ongoing trade negotiations with the US government, which culminated in the signing of the US-Indonesia Reciprocal Trade Agreement, and, according to reporting, joining the BoP was the Trump administration's precondition for the finalisation of the agreement. If membership was effectively coerced by trade threats, then the "freedom" component of bebas aktif is constitutionally compromised, because the foreign policy decision was not made from a position of genuine independence but under economic duress.

The governance structure of the BoP itself raises further constitutional concerns of sovereignty (kedaulatan), which is one of the foundational principles of the Indonesian constitutional order under Article 1. The Board's charter establishes a chairman-centred structure under which President Trump, as Chairman, holds sweeping authority to invite or exclude members, break ties, and approve or veto all Board resolutions. For a constitution that places popular sovereignty at its core and that jealously guards Indonesia's status as a free and independent state, the subordination of Indonesian foreign policy decisions to the veto of a foreign head of government—whose chairmanship is, astonishingly, not even tied to his presidential term—presents a real question of whether such an arrangement is compatible with the constitutional principle of national sovereignty. Trump's chairmanship is independent of his presidency of the United States, and he has indicated that he wants to remain chairman for life, with the sole authority to nominate his designated successor. 

The most recent developments have only sharpened the constitutional tension. Following the US and Israeli attacks on Iran, the Indonesian Ulema Council (MUI) urged the government to withdraw from the BoP, arguing that it is ineffective in achieving true independence for Palestine, and similar demands have been made by members of parliament. Despite this domestic pressure, President Prabowo convened a forum with former presidents, vice presidents, and party leaders at the Presidential Palace on 3 March 2026 to explain Indonesia's continued participation, with his allies affirming that Indonesia remains a member of the BoP. This tug-of-war between the executive and the broader political community reflects precisely the constitutional anxiety at play: the Preamble's mandate to pursue peace is being pulled in two directions simultaneously—towards pragmatic engagement and away from an arrangement that many Indonesians constitutionally feel betrays the foundational commitment to justice and self-determination for all peoples.

In sum, Indonesia's position in the Board of Peace is constitutionally ambiguous at best and constitutionally strained at worst. The government's argument that BoP membership fulfils the constitutional mandate to contribute to world peace is not without merit, but it sits uncomfortably alongside the constitutional imperatives of genuine freedom from great-power coercion, the inviolability of national sovereignty, the anti-colonial spirit of the Preamble, and the long-standing commitment to Palestinian self-determination that has animated Indonesian foreign policy since independence. President Prabowo has stated he is prepared to withdraw from the Board of Peace if it "fails to advance the goal of an independent Palestine," which at least suggests that the government itself recognises that the constitutional justification for membership is conditional rather than absolute.

Indonesia's Strategic Calculus: Withdraw or Remain in the Board of Peace?

The current context must first be understood before weighing either option. Foreign Minister Sugiono has stated that "all BoP discussions are currently suspended" owing to the situation in Iran, whilst US-Israeli airstrikes have disrupted global aviation, driven oil prices upward, and effectively closed the Strait of Hormuz. Indonesia thus finds itself in an exceedingly difficult position — caught between powerful domestic pressure to withdraw and geopolitical calculations that argue for remaining.

Advantages of Withdrawing

The most tangible advantage of a withdrawal decision is the restoration of Indonesia's moral and constitutional credibility in the eyes of the Islamic world. Indonesian public support for Palestinian independence has historically been strong and consistent, rooted in the constitutional mandate to oppose colonialism and uphold the right to self-determination. Indonesia's membership in the BoP creates a palpable moral contradiction, particularly given that Israel's membership in the BoP ought to be a compelling reason for Indonesia to withdraw without delay. By withdrawing, Indonesia restores the consistency between its rhetoric and its actions as a defender of Palestine—something that has long served as a pillar of its diplomatic identity.

Furthermore, Indonesia's withdrawal from the BoP would paradoxically strengthen its capacity as a genuine mediator. Jakarta now faces a choice in which mediation efforts may offer greater diplomatic capital than participation in a US-led initiative that is increasingly overshadowed by a broader regional war. As a party no longer bound to either camp, an Indonesia that has withdrawn from the BoP becomes far more credible in the eyes of Tehran and the broader Islamic world as a truly neutral interlocutor. Moreover, withdrawing legitimacy from a flawed process is sometimes more powerful than lending it. 

From the standpoint of domestic politics, Indonesia's withdrawal from the BoP would ease the mounting internal pressure that has been building steadily. A member of the House of Representatives from PDI-P, TB Hasanuddin, has called upon Indonesia to immediately leave the BoP in order to preserve its free and active foreign policy approach and to prevent any indication of tolerance towards aggression against other sovereign states. Such a step would also align the government's position with the demands of the MUI, academics, and civil society—all of whom constitute important constituencies for Prabowo's domestic political stability.

Disadvantages of Withdrawing

Nevertheless, the decision to withdraw carries risks that are by no means negligible. The most immediate and quantifiable risk is the threat to the bilateral trade agreement with the United States. BoP membership was linked to a contribution of one billion US dollars, and Indonesia's joining was effectively a precondition set by the Trump administration for the finalisation of the US-Indonesia Reciprocal Trade Agreement. Indonesia's withdrawal could trigger economic retaliation from Washington that might unsettle the rupiah and impede national economic growth targets. Furthermore, what appears to be a short-term gain from joining the BoP may produce long-term pain, but conversely, withdrawal too carries the risk of forcing Indonesia to choose between proximity to an unpredictable power and its own credibility as an independent actor. 

Indonesia's withdrawal could also narrow its room for influence over the Gaza peace process itself. Some analysts contend that the BoP is the only option currently available to the world for pursuing Palestinian independence, and that Indonesia ought to adopt an active position as a policymaker within the BoP — rather than merely a follower. By withdrawing, Indonesia forfeits its seat at the negotiating table which, however structurally flawed, remains the only forum in which the reconstruction of Gaza is being discussed in concrete terms.

Advantages of Remaining

The primary advantage of remaining in the BoP is the preservation of direct access to and influence over the regional peace agenda. According to the analysis of Indonesian experts, the BoP is currently the only option available to the world for pursuing Palestinian independence, and Indonesia must adopt an active position not merely as a follower but as a policymaker within the BoP. From within, Indonesia can theoretically push for the BoP to be more accommodating of Palestinian interests, press for the 20-point roadmap to be amended into an explicit two-state solution, and exploit its position to restrain initiatives that are harmful to that cause.

From an economic perspective, remaining means protecting the bilateral trade framework that has been painstakingly constructed. The newly signed US-Indonesia Reciprocal Trade Agreement represents an important economic milestone that provides market access, technology transfer, and investment that Indonesia requires to sustain its development trajectory. Indonesia's participation in the BoP, despite attracting criticism, reflects an attempt to balance pro-Iran sentiment domestically with the preservation of economic and security agreements recently secured with the United States. 

Disadvantages of Remaining

Conversely, remaining in the BoP in the midst of an active war carries reputational consequences of the most serious kind. The BoP is increasingly losing its moral, political, and even legal legitimacy, having proven itself incapable of creating genuine peace, let alone justice — such is the assessment of leading Indonesian academics. For a country that currently holds the Presidency of the UN Human Rights Council, involvement in a forum led by the United States whilst it is actively conducting military strikes represents a contradiction that is institutionally embarrassing in the extreme.

What is perhaps most concerning from a long-term perspective is the risk of the permanent erosion of Indonesia's diplomatic identity. Indonesia risks becoming a country that is present at every forum yet champions no values whatsoever — one that speaks the language of peace whilst accommodating injustice. This constitutes a serious erosion of the country's diplomatic heritage. Moreover, having no diplomatic relations with Israel, Jakarta holds no bilateral cards to play and cannot threaten to recall an ambassador or freeze trade assets, rendering Indonesia nothing more than a rule-taker rather than a rule-maker within the BoP. 

Conclusion: Where Does the Balance Lie?

The official and verified position of President Prabowo at present is to remain in the BoP. At a meeting held at the Presidential Palace on 3 March 2026, President Prabowo confirmed that Indonesia is maintaining its BoP membership even though the forum's principal driving force, the United States, is actively engaged in military action against Iran alongside Israel. NasDem Chairman Surya Paloh, who was present at the meeting, conveyed that "as of today, Indonesia's position remains as it is—staying in the Board of Peace." 

The justification employed by the government to sustain this membership has also been progressively reinforced over time. President Prabowo elaborated that Indonesia's membership was by no means an impulsive decision, but rather the outcome of extensive communication with the leaders of Gulf states, describing it as a strategic shift from an external position to one of "struggling from within the system." 

Nevertheless, this position is not entirely rigid. Indonesia has not ruled out the possibility of taking further steps, including evaluating its presence within the BoP together with other member states, "unless there are new developments in due course." In other words, the door to evaluation remains ajar — however, the prospect of unilateral withdrawal is not something that Prabowo is actively contemplating at the present time.

Which Option Yields Greater Benefit?

Under normal circumstances—that is, before the outbreak of the Iran-US-Israel war—the argument for remaining in the BoP carried considerable weight. The BoP is essentially the only option currently available to the world for pursuing Palestinian independence, and Indonesia ought to adopt an active position not merely as a follower but as a policymaker within the BoP. In that scenario, the economic costs of withdrawal—including the threat to the Reciprocal Trade Agreement with the United States — were too substantial to disregard, and the logic of "struggling from within the system" remained defensible.

However, circumstances have changed in a fundamentally irreversible manner since 28 February 2026. The longer the ongoing war continues, the greater the likelihood that Indonesia will abandon the initiative, and perhaps even the Gaza peace plan itself. This shift in circumstances alters the entire calculus at its foundation, for the BoP is no longer merely a controversial peace forum — it has become a forum chaired by a nation that is actively engaged in warfare. The MUI stated that the US strikes against Iran fundamentally undermine the credibility of the peace initiative. 

It is within this context that the weight of evidence suggests that the benefits of withdrawing from the BoP at this juncture outweigh the benefits of remaining, for three principal reasons that mutually reinforce one another.

First, concerning diplomatic credibility and identity, Indonesia cannot simultaneously offer itself as a mediator in the Iran-US-Israel war whilst remaining a member of a forum chaired by one of the belligerent parties. This contradiction is not merely a matter of optics—it operationally neutralises the effectiveness of Indonesia's mediation efforts. Tehran will not accept a mediation offer from a nation that shares a table with Washington within the BoP. Foreign policy experts have criticised Prabowo's move, highlighting the absence of Palestinian representation and the excessively dominant role of the United States within the BoP. 

Second, from a constitutional standpoint, as has been analysed at considerable length throughout this conversation, remaining in a forum whose structure subordinates Indonesia's decisions to the veto of a foreign chairman holding a lifelong appointment runs contrary to the principle of sovereignty enshrined in the 1945 Constitution. The longer Indonesia remains, the deeper the erosion of the bebas aktif principle that constitutes the constitutional foundation of its foreign policy.

Third, from the standpoint of domestic pragmatism, the pressure to withdraw immediately comes not only from the opposition, but from the MUI, members of the House of Representatives across party lines, and academics — and rather than allowing this situation to drag on and create ever greater difficulties, the government ought to take prompt steps to withdraw. President Prabowo's own domestic political stability is increasingly at risk should he persist in maintaining a position widely regarded as contrary to the fundamental values of the Indonesian majority.

As for the economic risk of withdrawal — namely, the threat to the trade agreement with the United States—this is real, yet must be assessed proportionately. Nahdlatul Ulama has suggested that Indonesia could use its role within the board to advocate for de-escalation in the Middle East and to promote renewed peace efforts, whilst calling for the board's agenda to be paused until negotiations begin to ease regional tensions. This "pause" option proposed by NU could in fact serve as an elegant middle path—Indonesia does not formally withdraw, yet neither does it actively participate, whilst simultaneously signalling to Washington that its membership is conditional. However, should the war continue without any sign of resolution, even a pause must ultimately be transformed into a formal and dignified withdrawal.

The overall conclusion is therefore as follows: Indonesia ought to prepare itself to exit the BoP in a measured, dignified, and strategically well-articulated manner—not out of emotional pressure, but because clear strategic and constitutional logic demands it. President Prabowo's decision to establish conditional terms is a step in the right direction. What is now required is the resolve to act upon those terms, should—and based on current developments, it appears sufficiently clear that—the BoP proves itself incapable of advancing Palestinian independence in the midst of this ongoing war.

[Part 6]
[Part 4]

Bahasa

War : Survivors, Memory, and Moral Responsibility (4)

The conflict between the United States, Israel, and Iran has caused severe disruption to global energy markets, particularly affecting the production and distribution of oil and gas from the Persian Gulf region. Oil output across several OPEC member states has fallen sharply, with Qatar suspending the majority of its LNG operations and Saudi Arabia halting activity at certain refineries.

Trade through the strategically vital Strait of Hormuz is now under threat, as Iran has signalled its intention to close the waterway to shipping — a route through which approximately 20% of the world's oil exports pass. This has placed considerable strain on global supply whilst driving oil and gas prices sharply upward.

The surge in energy prices has rippled outwards into inflation and production costs worldwide, given that oil is a fundamental input across transport, industry, and commodity pricing more broadly. This uncertainty has likewise affected macroeconomic investment decisions across numerous countries, including those across Asia and the developing world.

The closure of airspace across the Gulf region, combined with heightened security threats, has led to the cancellation or rerouting of thousands of flights, with significant consequences for tourism and trade in services. Major carriers — including Emirates, Qatar Airways, and Etihad — have suspended routes to and from the conflict zone, whilst operational costs have risen considerably owing to lengthened flight paths and elevated insurance risk.

Tourism across the Gulf, which represents a significant pillar of regional economies (most notably in the United Arab Emirates), has been severely affected. The number of international visitors is expected to fall dramatically by tens of millions, with economic losses projected to reach tens of billions of pounds.

A considerable number of countries across the Global South have condemned the conflict as an unlawful and potentially imperialistic intervention, arguing that it destabilises global order and bypasses diplomatic channels. Such criticism has been voiced by nations including China, Brazil, South Africa, and Pakistan, who have also drawn attention to the risk of eroding international legal norms — particularly in light of the extrajudicial killing of a foreign head of state.

The political ramifications of this conflict carry implications for bilateral relations and global alliances, with growing scepticism towards United States foreign policy and an increasing impetus among developing nations to seek alternative diplomatic alignments.

The conflict has resulted in civilian evacuations, casualties, and infrastructure damage across several major cities in the Middle East, including Dubai, Abu Dhabi, and Tel Aviv. Iranian retaliatory strikes have also struck neighbouring states such as the United Arab Emirates, causing civilian casualties and physical damage.

The instability has further fuelled concerns over broader escalation, with the potential involvement of pro-Iranian militia groups or their affiliates in other countries raising the spectre of significantly greater regional risk.

The geopolitical uncertainty has generated considerable volatility across global financial markets, with sharply rising oil prices prompting investors to seek safe-haven assets such as gold and US Treasury bonds. This turbulence has also affected equity prices, exchange rates across emerging market currencies, and overall market sentiment.

Furthermore, the global insurance sector is under acute pressure, as war risk now looms over major shipping lanes and maritime trade routes — assets of critical importance to global commerce and the manufacturing industry.

The consequences of this conflict extend well beyond the military and geopolitical spheres, having spread into the global economy, energy supply, aviation and tourism, diplomatic relations, financial markets, and public security worldwide. As the conflict persists and strategic chokepoints such as the Strait of Hormuz remain under threat, its effects are expected to deepen and broaden considerably should hostilities fail to abate in the near term.

Based on historical precedent and established geopolitical patterns, we can analyse the structural consequences such a conflict would typically generate.

In the short term, the most immediate effects of a war involving the United States, Israel, and Iran would be acute instability in energy markets, heightened military alertness across the Middle East, and intense diplomatic polarisation. Oil prices would likely surge rapidly, particularly if maritime routes such as the Strait of Hormuz were threatened or partially disrupted. Financial markets would respond with volatility, investors would seek safe-haven assets, and insurance premiums for shipping and aviation would rise sharply. Militarily, neighbouring states would increase defensive readiness, while proxy actors might escalate limited engagements, raising the risk of miscalculation. Politically, global institutions would face paralysis as major powers align along strategic interests rather than consensus.

In the medium term, assuming the conflict does not immediately spiral into a full regional war, the consequences would likely consolidate into structural economic and geopolitical shifts. Energy-importing countries would accelerate diversification strategies, investing more heavily in renewables or alternative suppliers in order to reduce dependence on Gulf routes. Defence spending across the region would increase, entrenching an arms build-up dynamic. Proxy networks could expand in scope and autonomy, producing prolonged instability even if direct interstate clashes diminish. Domestically within the belligerent states, political narratives would harden, and public opinion could become more polarised, either consolidating leadership through wartime nationalism or fuelling dissent if casualties and economic hardship mount. Diplomatic relations between Western powers and segments of the Global South might deteriorate further, reinforcing bloc-like alignments reminiscent of earlier geopolitical rivalries.

In the long term, the consequences would depend on whether the war results in decisive transformation or unresolved tension. If the conflict reshapes the balance of power decisively, it could redefine regional security architecture for decades, much as previous Middle Eastern wars altered alliances and deterrence doctrines. Alternatively, if the war ends inconclusively, it may institutionalise a prolonged state of managed hostility, characterised by recurring flare-ups, sanctions, cyber operations, and proxy warfare. Economically, sustained instability could accelerate the global transition away from fossil fuel dependence, while also deepening economic fragmentation between rival geopolitical blocs. Socially and culturally, collective memory of the conflict would likely become embedded in national narratives, shaping education, political identity, and intergenerational attitudes toward the opposing side.

Historically, wars involving major powers rarely remain confined to purely military outcomes. They recalibrate institutions, alliances, economic priorities, and moral vocabularies. Thus, the short term would be defined by shock and volatility, the medium term by strategic realignment and hardened structures, and the long term by either transformation of the regional order or entrenchment of a chronic and unstable equilibrium.

Of all the dimensions through which this conflict touches Indonesia, the economic consequences are arguably the most immediate and visceral. Indonesia's economy faces acute exposure to the crisis, given that crude prices climbed more than 10 per cent in a matter of days following the US and Israeli strikes on Iran in early 2026, trading near multi-month highs. This matters enormously for Indonesia because, as analysts at the Institute for Energy Studies and Research (IESR) have noted, Indonesia consumes 1.7 million barrels of oil each day whilst producing only 0.86 million barrels domestically, meaning roughly half of the country's oil needs must be met through imports — a significant portion of which come from countries affected by the conflict. Saudi Arabia alone has historically accounted for 38 per cent of Indonesia's crude oil imports, worth approximately US$1.21 billion annually. 

The fiscal implications of this supply shock are severe. Indonesia's 2026 state budget was calculated on an assumed oil price of US$70 per barrel, yet prices have already surpassed US$80. For every one-dollar rise in the Indonesian Crude Price, energy compensation subsidies require an additional Rp10.3 trillion, whilst state budget revenues increase by only around Rp3.6 trillion — leaving a deficit gap of roughly Rp6.7 trillion per dollar of price increase. Meanwhile, Indonesia's energy subsidy bill, already at Rp203 trillion, could exceed Rp250 trillion, forcing the government to choose between raising fuel prices and risking social unrest, or expanding subsidies and straining its fiscal resources.

Beyond the subsidy burden, the broader inflationary consequences are equally troubling. A weaker rupiah makes dollar-denominated imports more expensive, pushing up inflation for food items such as wheat, soybeans, and meat that rely on global supply chains. This is compounded by the fact that higher logistics costs—resulting from shipping companies rerouting tankers and raising war-risk insurance premiums — filter through into prices for manufactured inputs as well as consumer goods. For ordinary Indonesian households, the war in the Persian Gulf is therefore not a distant abstraction; it is felt directly in the price of cooking oil, fuel at the petrol station, and electricity bills.

The conflict has placed Indonesia in an acutely uncomfortable diplomatic position. President Prabowo Subianto had recently been cultivating closer ties with Washington, having joined Trump's so-called "Board of Peace" initiative in February 2026 and signing a reciprocal trade agreement during his visit to Washington. Indonesia's motivation to join was linked to its ongoing trade negotiations with the US government, which culminated in the signing of the US-Indonesia Reciprocal Trade Agreement during Prabowo's visit. However, the outbreak of the Iran war immediately complicated this alignment.

In response to the strikes, Indonesia's Ministry of Foreign Affairs called on all parties to exercise restraint and to prioritise dialogue and diplomacy, adding that the Indonesian government expressed its readiness to facilitate dialogue and, if agreed by both parties, that President Prabowo was prepared to travel to Tehran to carry out mediation. Yet this offer was met with swift scepticism. A prominent former Indonesian diplomat described the proposal as "highly unrealistic" and "politically suicidal," arguing that the United States' ego as a superpower would preclude acceptance of third-party mediation, that Indonesia had no meaningful diplomatic channel to Iran, and that any mediation would require Prabowo to meet Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu — a country with which Indonesia has no diplomatic relations. 

The political fallout domestically has been considerable. As the war raged on, pressure grew domestically for Indonesia to withdraw from the US-led Board of Peace, with Islamic communities and lawmakers questioning the body's commitment to peace in the region. Ultimately, Indonesia's foreign minister confirmed that Board of Peace discussions had been put on hold, as all diplomatic attention had shifted to the situation in Iran. This episode illustrates the profound tension within Indonesia's foreign policy between its aspirations for closer economic alignment with Washington and the deeply held sentiments of its Muslim-majority population.

Indonesia, as the world's largest Muslim-majority democracy, cannot be indifferent to a war in which a fellow Muslim nation is the target of military strikes by the United States and Israel. Protests took place outside the United States Embassy in Jakarta on 3 March 2026 to condemn the US-Israeli attack on Iran and to urge the government to revoke its membership of the Board of Peace. These demonstrations reflect a broader public mood in which the conflict is experienced not merely as a geopolitical event, but as a matter of religious and civilisational solidarity.

The conflict also carries the risk of radicalising elements of Indonesian society, particularly if the war is perceived as a Western assault on the Muslim world. Indonesia must limit the spread of extremist ideology that could threaten the stability of society, and one avenue for doing so is through the Organisation of Islamic Cooperation, by striving to achieve consensus on the recent developments and calling for an immediate cessation of all forms of violence. At the same time, Indonesia's Muslim community is not monolithic, and the Sunni-majority population does not necessarily share theological or ideological alignment with Shia Iran; nonetheless, the optics of a superpower attacking a Muslim state resonate deeply across denominational lines.

From a strategic standpoint, the conflict compels Indonesia to navigate between competing great-power interests at a moment when it can ill afford geopolitical miscalculation. As a peace-loving country that adheres to its "free and active" foreign policy, Indonesia has taken a neutral stance towards the US and Israeli attacks—a posture that reflects both principled non-alignment and pragmatic self-preservation. However, maintaining that neutrality has become increasingly difficult as the war deepens and domestic pressures mount.

The security of Indonesian nationals abroad is also a direct concern. According to official data, 329 Indonesian citizens were in Iran at the time of the conflict, mostly in the cities of Qom and Isfahan, and the Indonesian Embassy in Tehran stated that the community had not reported any direct threats but had been advised to remain vigilant. Beyond citizen welfare, Indonesia must also reckon with the possibility that regional instability could embolden proxy actors or extremist networks with links to Southeast Asia, creating a security overspill that reaches Indonesia's own shores.

The broader financial contagion from the conflict adds yet another layer of difficulty for Indonesia's economic managers. Investors tend to reduce risk exposure when geopolitical tensions rise, seeking the safety of US Treasuries and other haven assets — and for Indonesia, that dynamic means weaker capital inflows and downward pressure on the rupiah. A depreciating currency, in turn, raises the cost of servicing Indonesia's dollar-denominated external debt and makes imported capital goods more expensive, dampening investment activity precisely when the country needs it most.

The Indonesian government needs to draw up a roadmap to mitigate the impacts of the global economic disruption, including expanding export markets to safer regions, seeking alternative energy supplies, strengthening strategic reserves, and accelerating the transition to renewable energy. Coordination between fiscal and monetary policy must also be strengthened to maintain exchange rate stability and control inflation. These prescriptions from Indonesian economists point to a deeper structural vulnerability: the country's dependence on fossil fuel imports and its exposure to global commodity price cycles, which this conflict has thrown into sharp relief.

Taken together, the conflict between the United States, Israel, and Iran confronts Indonesia with challenges that are simultaneously economic, diplomatic, social, strategic, and financial. The country faces higher energy bills, a weaker currency, inflationary pressures on household consumption, political embarrassment over its association with the Board of Peace, domestic public anger, and the ever-present risk of security spillovers. What makes Indonesia's position particularly delicate is that it lacks the diplomatic leverage to shape the course of the conflict, yet is far too deeply embedded in the global economy—and the Islamic world—to remain untouched by it. The war, as one analyst has aptly observed, is not Indonesia's war, but its consequences have arrived at Indonesia's door all the same.

Based on the most recent reports and analytical models available, it is extremely difficult to determine with certainty how long the war between Iran and the coalition of the United States and Israel will last. However, historical comparison, military capability, and current strategic goals allow analysts to outline several plausible timelines.

Recent reporting suggests that some officials in Israel initially expected the campaign to last only several weeks, particularly if the objective was limited to destroying Iran’s missile infrastructure and military facilities. At the same time, internal assessments within the American national security community indicate that the conflict could extend for several months, possibly continuing until late summer if political and strategic complications arise. These differing expectations already reveal one of the classic patterns of modern warfare: wars that are expected to be short frequently become longer and more complicated than planners originally imagined.

From a strategic perspective, the duration of the war will depend on several structural factors. First, the war is currently being fought largely through air power, missiles, and long-range strikes, rather than through massive ground invasions. More than two thousand targets inside Iran have already been struck, while Iran has responded with thousands of missile and drone attacks across the region. Conflicts dominated by air campaigns often unfold as wars of attrition, in which the decisive question becomes which side exhausts its missiles, interceptors, and logistical capacity first.

Second, the political goals of the belligerents will heavily influence the war’s length. If the objective of the United States and Israel is limited to weakening Iran’s military capabilities, the conflict could plausibly end relatively quickly once key missile systems and command structures are destroyed. However, if the strategic aim expands toward regime destabilisation or long-term containment, the war may evolve into a prolonged confrontation involving sanctions, proxy conflicts, cyber operations, and intermittent military strikes.

Third, wars in the Middle East historically tend to expand beyond their original scope through regional proxy networks. Iran maintains connections with several non-state armed groups across the region, and if those actors intensify their participation, the conflict could evolve into a broader regional war. Such escalation would greatly extend the timeline of the conflict, potentially transforming it from a short campaign into a multi-year geopolitical confrontation.

When historians compare the present conflict with earlier wars, a familiar pattern appears. Many conflicts begin with the expectation of a rapid and decisive victory. Yet war rarely obeys the optimistic predictions of politicians or generals. The First World War was expected to last only a few months in 1914, but it continued for four devastating years. Likewise, the Iraq War began with a swift military invasion in 2003, yet evolved into a prolonged conflict lasting nearly a decade.

For these reasons, the most cautious analytical conclusion is that the war between Iran and the United States–Israel coalition could follow one of three general trajectories. In the most limited scenario, the conflict might end within several weeks, particularly if military objectives are quickly achieved and diplomatic mediation intervenes. In a more realistic scenario, many analysts believe the conflict could last several months, especially if both sides continue exchanging long-range strikes while avoiding a full ground invasion. In the most pessimistic scenario, the war could transform into a prolonged regional confrontation lasting years, sustained by proxy warfare, sanctions, and intermittent military escalation.

Therefore, the most honest answer from a historical and strategic standpoint is that the war's duration cannot yet be predicted with precision. War is not a mechanical process but a political and human one, shaped by decisions, miscalculations, and unexpected events. As the Prussian strategist Carl von Clausewitz famously observed, war unfolds within a realm of uncertainty that he described as “friction,” where the plans of states collide with the unpredictable realities of human conflict.

If this war could be predicted, could Iran be the victor? To answer this question honestly, one must first recognise that “victory” in modern war is rarely absolute. The outcome depends on how victory itself is defined: whether it means military domination, political survival, strategic deterrence, or simply avoiding defeat. When the conflict between Iran and the coalition of the United States and Israel is analysed through this lens, the possibility of Iran becoming the clear military winner appears very limited. However, other forms of strategic outcome remain possible.

From a strictly conventional military perspective, the balance of power strongly favours the United States–Israel side. The United States possesses the most technologically advanced military force in the world, including stealth bombers, global satellite surveillance, cyber warfare capabilities, and highly integrated air-defence systems. Israel, meanwhile, maintains one of the most sophisticated regional militaries, built around the doctrine of maintaining a qualitative military edge over its neighbours. Iran, by contrast, operates a much older air force and weaker air-defence infrastructure, which limits its ability to control the skies or conduct sustained long-range air campaigns.

Recent reports from the ongoing conflict indicate that joint American and Israeli strikes have already destroyed large numbers of Iranian missile launchers and military targets, severely reducing Iran’s capacity to launch further attacks. At the same time, advanced surveillance systems, cyber operations, and missile interception technologies have allowed the coalition to intercept many Iranian missiles and drones before they reach their targets. These developments illustrate a fundamental asymmetry: one side relies heavily on technological superiority and air dominance, while the other relies more on missile saturation, proxy networks, and regional leverage.

However, war is rarely determined solely by technological superiority. Iran possesses certain advantages that could complicate the conflict. The country has a very large population, a sizeable armed force numbering hundreds of thousands of personnel, and a vast geographical territory that makes rapid occupation extremely difficult. In addition, Iran has developed a strategy of asymmetric warfare, which means that it does not necessarily attempt to defeat its adversaries in conventional battles but instead tries to impose costs through missile attacks, proxy groups, maritime disruption, and economic pressure.

For this reason, the real strategic question may not be whether Iran can win the war in the traditional sense, but whether it can prevent the coalition from achieving its objectives. History provides several examples where weaker states did not defeat stronger powers militarily but still achieved strategic survival. During the Vietnam War, for example, North Vietnam did not defeat the United States in conventional military terms, yet it ultimately achieved its political objectives. Similar patterns appeared in Afghanistan, where technologically superior powers struggled to impose lasting political outcomes.

In the present conflict, therefore, three broad scenarios can be imagined. In the first scenario, the United States and Israel achieve overwhelming military success by destroying Iran’s missile infrastructure, command centres, and strategic facilities, thereby forcing Iran into a position of strategic weakness. In the second scenario, Iran survives the initial military campaign and shifts the conflict into a prolonged regional confrontation through proxy warfare and economic disruption, preventing its adversaries from achieving a decisive victory. In the third and most destabilising scenario, the conflict escalates into a wider regional war involving multiple states, which could fundamentally reshape the balance of power in the Middle East.

Consequently, if victory is defined as complete military dominance, the probability of Iran defeating the combined power of the United States and Israel appears relatively low. Yet if victory is defined more broadly—as political survival, strategic endurance, or the ability to impose long-term costs on stronger adversaries—then the outcome becomes far less predictable. In modern geopolitics, the weaker power sometimes does not need to win the war outright; it only needs to ensure that the stronger power cannot achieve a decisive and lasting victory.

Some well-known works in the field of international relations and strategic studies help to explain why analysts usually treat the question of an outright Iranian “victory” over the United States and Israel with caution. One of the most frequently cited theoretical frameworks comes from The Tragedy of Great Power Politics (2001) by John J. Mearsheimer, published by W. W. Norton. In this book, Mearsheimer argues that the international system is shaped by power asymmetries among states and that major powers possess structural advantages in prolonged conflict. From this perspective, a state such as the United States, with its vast military, economic, and alliance networks, retains structural leverage that smaller regional powers struggle to overcome in conventional warfare. Analysts, therefore, tend to interpret any Iranian strategy not as an attempt to defeat such powers outright, but rather as an attempt to raise the cost of intervention high enough to discourage or limit it.

Another useful reference comes from classical strategic theory. In On War (1832) by Carl von Clausewitz, widely available in modern English editions, one of them translated by Col. J.J. Graham. New and Revised edition with Introduction and Notes by Col. F.N. Maude, in Three Volumes (London: Kegan Paul, Trench, Trubner & C., 1918). Clausewitz explains that war is fundamentally “a continuation of policy with other means”. His argument implies that victory in war is rarely absolute; instead, it is measured by whether a state achieves its political objectives. If Iran were able to deter regime change, maintain internal stability, and preserve its regional influence despite confrontation with stronger adversaries, some strategists might interpret this as a form of strategic success even without military dominance on the battlefield.

Historical and strategic scholarship also emphasises the importance of asymmetric warfare in conflicts between unequal powers. Lawrence Freedman discusses this dynamic in The Future of War: A History (2017), published by Allen Lane. Freedman notes that weaker states often rely on indirect strategies—such as proxy forces, missile deterrence, cyber operations, and political influence—to offset the conventional superiority of stronger opponents. In the context of Iran, analysts frequently point to the country’s network of regional allies and non-state partners, as well as its missile and drone capabilities, as instruments designed to complicate the strategic calculations of adversaries rather than defeat them directly.

The structural logic of alliances also plays a significant role in strategic assessments. In Theory of International Politics (1979), published by McGraw-Hill, Kenneth Waltz explains that states rarely operate in isolation within the international system. Power is distributed across alliances, which means that a conflict involving the United States or Israel could potentially draw in additional partners and resources. This structural factor tends to reinforce the conclusion among many scholars that a direct military victory by Iran over a broad coalition would be highly unlikely, although Iran might still achieve limited political aims through deterrence or prolonged resistance.

Finally, classical historical analysis reminds us that the deeper causes of war often lie in enduring psychological and political motives rather than purely military calculations. The famous triad of “fear, honour, and interest”, described by Thucydides in History of the Peloponnesian War (5th century BCE; many modern editions, including the Penguin Classics edition), continues to shape the way historians interpret modern conflicts. Fear may drive states to strike pre-emptively or build deterrence, honour may push leaders to resist humiliation or demonstrate resolve, and interest reflects the pursuit of power, resources, and security. When scholars analyse tensions involving Iran, Israel, and the United States, they often see these same forces operating simultaneously, making the outcome of any conflict dependent not only on military strength but also on political endurance, alliances, and the willingness of each side to bear the costs of war.

The possibility that the United States and Israel could win certainly exists, and many military analysts argue that a short-term military victory for them may actually be more plausible than an outright Iranian victory in a conventional war. However, the meaning of “victory” in modern warfare is often far more complex than simply winning battles on the battlefield.

In strategic terms, victory for the United States and Israel could occur if they succeeded in severely degrading Iran’s core military capabilities, particularly its missile infrastructure, air-defence systems, and nuclear-related facilities. Joint military operations involving large-scale air and missile strikes directed at command centres, military bases, and strategic installations could significantly weaken Iran’s capacity to sustain a conventional war. Recent news reporting has indicated that numerous Iranian military targets have been struck in coordinated operations and that some military infrastructure has suffered considerable damage.

From the perspective of the balance of military power, the United States and Israel possess several structural advantages. The United States maintains the most powerful air force and navy in the world, along with an extensive network of military bases across the Middle East. Israel, meanwhile, possesses highly advanced military technology, including fifth-generation fighter aircraft, sophisticated missile-defence systems such as the Iron Dome, and exceptionally capable intelligence and cyber-warfare units. This technological superiority is often described as a “qualitative military edge”, enabling Israel to offset and even overcome adversaries with larger numerical forces.

Furthermore, Israel is widely believed to possess nuclear capabilities as a strategic deterrent, while Iran is not officially recognised as possessing nuclear weapons. This asymmetry contributes to a powerful deterrence dynamic within regional strategic calculations. In a relatively short conventional war, the combination of Israeli military technology, American logistical and intelligence support, and the overwhelming air and naval power of the United States could provide a significant operational advantage over Iran.

Nevertheless, such a victory would most likely be military and tactical rather than decisively political. Iran’s broader strategy differs markedly from conventional Western doctrines. It relies heavily upon asymmetric warfare, the use of long-range ballistic missiles, and the mobilisation of allied networks and proxy forces across various parts of the Middle East. Through such strategies, Iran could continue to exert pressure on its adversaries even if parts of its domestic military infrastructure were severely damaged.

For this reason, many analysts believe that the most realistic outcome resembles a recurring paradox in the history of warfare: the United States and Israel might win many of the major battles through technological superiority and air power, yet they might still struggle to achieve a complete political victory if the conflict evolved into a prolonged regional confrontation involving proxy networks, global economic pressures, and persistent geopolitical instability.

In other words, the United States and Israel could theoretically win the war militarily, particularly in the early stages of the conflict. However, a decisive strategic victory—one that fundamentally reshapes the political structure of the region or completely subdues Iran—would be far more difficult to achieve. Throughout modern history, rapid military success has not always translated into lasting political victory.

Recent reporting indicates that the war between Iran and the coalition of United States and Israel began with coordinated airstrikes in late February 2026 and has already involved missile attacks, naval engagements, and cyber operations. Analysts note that early phases of the campaign have focused on destroying Iranian missile infrastructure and securing air superiority.

Within strategic studies, experts frequently discuss three broad end-scenarios that such a war might eventually follow. These scenarios are not predictions but analytical models used to understand how conflicts of this type tend to evolve.

In the first scenario, the coalition of the United States and Israel achieves a relatively rapid military success. This outcome would depend on the overwhelming technological and logistical superiority of American and Israeli forces. If sustained airstrikes, cyber operations, and precision attacks successfully destroy Iran’s missile launch sites, command centres, and nuclear-related facilities, Iran’s capacity to continue a conventional war could collapse within a matter of weeks.

Some early signs that analysts watch closely include the degree of control over Iranian airspace and the destruction of missile infrastructure. Reports have already indicated that U.S. and Israeli strikes have sharply reduced Iranian missile launches by targeting launchers and drone facilities.

If this pattern continues, Iran might be forced to accept a ceasefire or negotiated settlement after suffering severe military degradation.

However, even in this scenario, victory would likely be operational rather than transformational. The political system of Iran might survive, and the broader geopolitical rivalry in the Middle East would probably persist. In other words, the coalition could win the war militarily without fully resolving the underlying strategic conflict.

The second scenario, which many analysts consider the most plausible, is a prolonged stalemate. In this situation, neither side achieves decisive strategic success. Instead, the conflict evolves into a war of attrition involving repeated missile exchanges, cyber warfare, and proxy conflicts across the Middle East.

Iran possesses a network of allied groups and regional partners—sometimes described as a “proxy axis”—that can operate in multiple theatres, including Lebanon, Iraq, Yemen, and the Persian Gulf. Through such networks, Iran could maintain pressure on its adversaries even if its own territory suffers heavy bombing.

At the same time, the United States and Israel might avoid a full-scale invasion of Iran due to the enormous logistical and political costs such an operation would entail. The result would be a prolonged confrontation marked by intermittent strikes, regional escalation, and economic disruption.

The global economic consequences could be substantial. For example, disruptions around the Strait of Hormuz—a major global oil shipping route—have already raised fears of energy market instability and broader financial volatility. Under such conditions, the war might persist for months or even years without producing a clear winner.

The third scenario is more subtle and historically familiar: Iran might lose many direct battles yet still achieve an indirect strategic victory. This outcome would occur if the war becomes so costly, prolonged, or politically unpopular that the United States and its allies eventually choose to disengage.

In this scenario, Iran’s strategy would not depend on defeating American or Israeli forces outright. Instead, it would focus on endurance, regional disruption, and asymmetric pressure. By threatening shipping lanes, mobilising allied militias, and sustaining missile attacks, Iran could gradually increase the economic and political costs of the conflict for its adversaries.

If global oil markets are destabilised or regional conflicts spread to other theatres, international pressure for de-escalation could grow rapidly. In such circumstances, a negotiated settlement might allow Iran to claim that it had resisted a powerful coalition and preserved its sovereignty.

History offers many examples of this paradox: stronger military powers often win battles but fail to achieve their broader political objectives. If the war were to follow this path, Iran could portray the outcome as a strategic success despite suffering severe damage during the conflict.

In reality, wars rarely follow a single clean scenario. More often, they move through several phases, shifting from rapid strikes to stalemate, and eventually to some form of negotiated or ambiguous outcome. Many historians argue that most wars in human history tend to end in stalemate rather than clear and decisive victory because the political aims of war often prove far more difficult to achieve than the military victories that initially appear to promise them. The history of warfare repeatedly demonstrates that winning battles is not the same as securing a stable and lasting political outcome. This insight has been emphasised by numerous historians and theorists, including Carl von Clausewitz in On War (1832), who famously argued that war is “the continuation of politics by other means.” In other words, war does not exist in isolation; it is deeply embedded in political goals, social pressures, and strategic calculations. When those political objectives prove unrealistic or incompatible with reality, wars often drift toward stalemate.

A useful historical example can be found in the Peloponnesian War between Athens and Sparta (431–404 BCE). The historian Thucydides, in his work History of the Peloponnesian War, described how the conflict dragged on for decades despite repeated attempts by both sides to achieve a decisive victory. Even when Sparta eventually forced Athens to surrender, the broader Greek world did not enter a stable period of peace. Instead, further conflicts soon followed, demonstrating that the war had not truly resolved the underlying rivalries among Greek city-states. In this sense, historians often interpret the war as a prolonged strategic stalemate disguised by a final military collapse.

The tendency toward stalemate became even more pronounced in the modern era, particularly after the rise of mass mobilisation and industrial warfare. During World War I, for example, millions of soldiers were deployed across vast front lines, yet technological developments such as machine guns, trenches, and artillery made decisive breakthroughs extremely difficult. Historians such as John Keegan in The First World War (1998, Hutchinson) have described how the conflict became a grinding war of attrition in which neither side could easily defeat the other. The eventual outcome in 1918 resulted more from economic exhaustion and political collapse than from a single decisive battlefield triumph.

A similar pattern can be observed in many contemporary conflicts. In modern warfare, weaker states or movements often adopt asymmetric strategies that deliberately avoid decisive confrontation with stronger militaries. The historian and strategist Lawrence Freedman discusses this dynamic in Strategy: A History (2013, Oxford University Press), explaining that weaker actors frequently aim not to win outright but simply to prevent their opponent from achieving its objectives. By prolonging the conflict, they increase the economic, political, and psychological costs for the stronger power.

Another important factor is the growing complexity of political goals in modern wars. Historian Hew Strachan in The Direction of War (2013, Cambridge University Press) argues that wars increasingly involve multiple actors, competing alliances, and overlapping objectives. Under such conditions, even if one army defeats another, the broader political conflict often remains unresolved. This complexity makes clear victories increasingly rare.

For these reasons, historians frequently observe that wars tend to drift toward stalemate because the forces driving them—fear, honour, ambition, ideology, and economic interest—are rarely eliminated by battlefield success alone. Military victories can destroy armies, but they rarely destroy the political motives that gave birth to the conflict in the first place. As long as those underlying motives persist, the possibility of renewed conflict remains.

Thus, from the ancient struggles recorded by Thucydides to the complex geopolitical confrontations of the modern world, the historical record repeatedly suggests that wars rarely conclude with neat and decisive endings. More often, they fade into uneasy compromises, negotiated settlements, or prolonged stalemates that leave many of the original tensions unresolved. In this sense, stalemate is not an accident of war but one of its most enduring patterns in human history.

[Part 5]
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