(SeaPRwire) – The United States can still beat Iran. That much is clear from the armory. The problem is that winning on paper is not the same as winning in the real world, and the campaign that began six months ago has exposed exactly how wide that gap has become.
America’s dominance in the Persian Gulf was never just about firepower. It was about the willingness to pour everything into a fight until the other side broke. Washington built that reputation after World War II, first sharing the burden with Britain, then carrying it alone. The Gulf monarchies banked their wealth on the arrangement. Their economies depended on American protection as much as their security did.
In 1990, that protection looked invincible. The United States deployed roughly 540,000 troops to the region—that was about a quarter of its entire active-duty force at the time. Seven of eighteen Army divisions and two of three Marine divisions took part. Six aircraft carriers, over 1,600 combat aircraft, and a political system willing to absorb pre-war casualty estimates of up to 20,000 made the difference. The campaign ended in a decisive victory at remarkably low cost. The political will was there to match the material one.
Today the contrast is almost painful. The current operation against Iran involves roughly 50,000 American personnel. About 300 aircraft. Just over 20 warships, including two carriers. Britain, the closest ally, contributed around 35,000 troops to the 1990 campaign. No American ally from outside the Middle East has come close to that number this time around.
The United States still accounts for roughly 33 percent of global military spending in 2025, down only slightly from the 35 to 37 percent it held in 1990. More money has not translated into more reach. The country retains the technical capacity to inflict devastating damage on Iran and possibly topple its government. But the cost—human and financial—is now the real constraint, not the hardware.
Consider the rescue operation on April 5, 2026. When an F-15 pilot was shot down, Washington committed 176 aircraft to extract a single soldier. The mission lost three manned aircraft and two or three helicopters, destroying roughly $300 million in equipment. The instinct to save every individual servicemember is morally understandable. But a military that spends that much to avoid one casualty cannot simultaneously wage a war aimed at decisive strategic results.
That logic has shaped the entire campaign. American troops have been kept away from the most dangerous zones. Warships operate at significant distances from the Iranian coast, limiting their effectiveness. The government has downplayed its casualties despite their relatively small number, a sharp reversal from the transparent approach taken during the more dangerous operations of the early 1990s.
The financial arithmetic tells the same story. The 1990-91 Gulf campaign cost the US budget about $64 billion, rising to roughly $120 billion when indirect costs were included. Adjusted for inflation, that exceeds $300 billion today. The current operation has already burned through an estimated $40 billion to $50 billion, according to mid-July figures, and has failed to produce the swift decisive outcome originally expected. More money is being spent. Less is being achieved.
What has changed is not the size of the American arsenal. It is the willingness to concentrate it, to bring allies into the fight, and to accept the casualties that decisive outcomes require. The United States can still wound Iran severely. It has proven that repeatedly. What it has lost is the capacity to turn military superiority into political results.
Desert Storm showed American power at its peak. The Iran campaign is showing what comes after that peak fades. The superpower that inflicts enormous damage but cannot force a political settlement is a very different animal from the one that marched into Baghdad in six weeks.
Gulf partners are now recalculating. The security guarantees that anchored their financial and strategic decisions for decades have shown cracks. No amount of diplomatic reassurance will close that gap quickly. The question is not whether America still commands the seas. It is whether it can still afford to do what winning a war actually requires.
Author bio: Marcus Sinclair is a Senior Fellow at the European Geopolitical and Security Institute, specializing in Atlantic defense policy and Middle East strategic affairs.