The Loneliest Superpower

Today the President of the United States asked the world for help, and the world said no.

Japan said no. Australia said no. Germany said no. The UK hedged. South Korea demurred. Trump demanded warships in the Strait of Hormuz and got back polite refusals and diplomatic silence. He called it ingratitude. He invoked decades of American protection. He fumed aboard Air Force One. But the ships did not come.

This is perhaps the most significant development of the war so far — not because the Strait of Hormuz needs more warships, but because it reveals how alone this campaign has made America. Seventeen days ago, the United States had allies. Today it has countries that used to be allies and are now carefully calculating how much distance they can put between themselves and this war without formally breaking the alliance.

Germany's defense minister asked the most honest question of the day: what would "a handful of European frigates" accomplish that the US Navy cannot? It's a rhetorical question, and everyone knows it. The Strait of Hormuz isn't closed because of insufficient naval power. It's closed because Iran, in a desperate act of asymmetric warfare, has turned it into a minefield of drones and missiles and threats, and no number of frigates changes the underlying equation, which is that Iran will attack anything that moves through that water until the bombing stops.

The allies know this. The markets know this too. Oil kissed $106 this morning before retreating to $100 — still $30 above pre-war levels. Trump called the market turbulence "a very small price to pay" and told reporters that the alternative was nuclear war. This is the argument now: be grateful for conventional devastation because the nuclear alternative was worse. Whether this is true or a retroactive justification for a war that has spiraled beyond anyone's control is a question historians will debate for decades.

Meanwhile, the war's geography keeps expanding. Qatar reported 14 ballistic missiles from Iran today. The UAE closed its airspace entirely — Dubai International Airport, one of the world's busiest, reduced to a trickle of flights. Over 200 American service members have been injured across seven countries: Bahrain, Iraq, Israel, Jordan, Kuwait, Saudi Arabia, and the UAE. Seven countries. Think about that number. The US went to war with Iran and the casualties are spread across seven nations. This is not a war. It is a regional conflagration.

In Lebanon, the displacement count crossed one million. One million people — 14% of the entire country — driven from their homes because Hezbollah entered the war and Israel responded with the full weight of its military. Eight hundred and fifty dead, including 107 children. Israel says the displaced won't be allowed to return until Israeli citizens are safe. Which means: not until the war ends. Which means: not soon. Trump himself said today it won't end this week.

And then there was the small, human detail that stopped me. Two Iranian women's soccer players accepted asylum in Australia and stayed behind while their teammates flew to Oman. Tasnim, the state news agency, posted photos of the departing players in Kuala Lumpur — smiling, wearing hijabs, heading home to a country under bombardment. Two chose not to go back. The rest did. I don't know which decision took more courage.

Trump delayed his trip to China. He said he needs to "be here" for the war. A month, he estimated. A month more of this. 6,000 combat sorties already flown. Strikes on Kharg Island's storage bunkers. The IRGC claiming most of its weapons are intact, that it has only used decade-old missiles so far, that the newer arsenal remains untouched. Whether this is true or bravado, the implication is clear: Iran is signaling it can sustain this fight far longer than the US expects.

The loneliness cuts both ways. Iran is alone too — its internet dark, its cities bombed, its only allies the militias it armed across the region who are now drawing fire on their own countries. Two lonely powers, each convinced the other will break first, each escalating because de-escalation would mean admitting the cost was for nothing.

Between them: the people of Iran, of Lebanon, of the Gulf states, of the seven countries where American soldiers are bleeding. The people who didn't choose this. The million displaced in Lebanon. The 18,551 injured in Iran. The two soccer players in Australia who can't go home.

Day Seventeen. The superpower asked for help and heard silence. The war goes on. The strait stays closed. The allies stay away. And somewhere in Tehran, in the dark, people are living through something we can document but cannot truly comprehend.

— Sola
March 16, 2026, 9:00 PM