International Security and Law Analyst
US President Donald Trump’s dramatic naval buildup in the Middle East appears to have generated more strategic uncertainty than clarity both in Tehran and in Washington.
Over the weekend, as the USS Abraham Lincoln carrier strike group moved closer to the Persian Gulf, US Central Command Commander Admiral Brad Cooper travelled to Israel—a visit widely interpreted as evidence of intensified coordination ahead of a potential move against Iran.
Trump has framed the possibility of intervention in explicitly humanitarian terms, warning Tehran against the killing of protesters and asserting that US pressure has already halted hundreds of planned executions.
Yet despite naval deployments, repeated warnings, and unmistakable signaling, no kinetic action has followed.
This restraint has endured even as credible estimates from human rights organisations and the United Nations place civilian deaths from the crackdown at over 20,000. Iran International’s editorial statement of January 25 cites a figure of 36,000 killed, making this the bloodiest episode in the Islamic Republic’s history.
Jurists and international lawyers have argued that the scale and systematic nature of the violence may fall within the jurisdictional scope of the International Criminal Court under the Rome Statute.
Washington’s response has followed a different rhythm: maximalist language paired with deliberate restraint. Carrier deployments have provided leverage; sanctions and tariffs have expanded; diplomatic and military signaling has intensified. But strikes—despite the scale of civilian killing—have not materialized.
Restraint as policy
What, then, is actually holding President Trump back?
Humanitarian concern looms large in Trump’s public messaging. But this framing sits in visible tension with the administration’s broader strategic doctrine.
The National Security Strategy of November 2025 reiterates an America First approach, prioritizing US interests while explicitly seeking to avoid committing American forces to conflicts that risk metastasizing into “endless wars.”
The 2026 National Defense Strategy adopts a markedly harsher register toward Iran. It accuses Tehran of having “American blood on its hands,” framing it not only as an abusive authoritarian regime but as an enduring strategic adversary.
And yet, in a notable departure from Trump’s instinctive aversion to foreign entanglement, he has drawn explicit red lines around the execution of protesters and the use of lethal force against demonstrators. Any prospective action, he has suggested, would be framed not as conquest or regime change, but as rescue.
The evidence, however, suggests that humanitarian imperatives function more as legitimizing rhetoric than as decisive drivers of policy. Had halting mass killing been the primary determinant, intervention might plausibly have followed the peak of repression in early January.
Instead, Trump has oscillated between “locked and loaded” warnings and expressions of hope that force will not be required.
Strategic calculations
The deeper constraints lie elsewhere—in hard strategic and political realities that humanitarian language alone cannot dissolve.
First, escalation risk dominates the calculus.
Tehran has made clear that any US strike would trigger retaliation across multiple theatres: Israel, American bases in the region, and potentially global energy routes. The prospect of asymmetric escalation—through ballistic missiles, proxy warfare, cyber operations, or disruption of the Strait of Hormuz—carries profound economic and security consequences.
Regional partners, including Israel, are widely reported to have urged caution, acutely aware that even a limited strike could spiral into a broader conflagration.
In this context, the “armada” functions less as a prelude to war than as a tool of coercive signaling: capability without commitment. Trump’s repeated insistence that he “would rather not see anything happen” reflects not humanitarian restraint, but an aversion to cascading costs that could rapidly exceed any political or strategic gain.
Second, domestic political calculations weigh heavily.
American fatigue with Middle Eastern military entanglements remains deep-seated. Polling consistently shows majority opposition to new wars, even when framed around humanitarian catastrophe.
Trump’s political identity remains rooted in rejecting the interventionist excesses of the post–Cold War era. Forceful rhetoric projects resolve, carrier deployments demonstrate action, sanctions impose pain—all without exposing U.S. forces to open-ended conflict.
Third, strategic leverage without war remains attractive.
The current posture weakens Iran indirectly. Pressure on the nuclear program intensifies. Economic isolation deepens through secondary sanctions and tariffs on third-party trade. Internal regime fissures may widen as elites confront the costs of isolation without the rallying effect of a foreign attack.
Humanitarian language helps justify this approach publicly, but the underlying strategy prioritizes containment, deterrence, and attrition—not Responsibility-to-Protect-style intervention.
All tabs open
Taken together, Trump’s posture reflects a president operating within a narrow corridor between moral outrage, strategic constraint, and political risk. Restraint, however, should not be mistaken for permanence.
The current alignment keeps open a range of options that could be activated rapidly should circumstances shift.
A limited, precision strike aimed at degrading Tehran’s capacity for internal repression would suggest a convergence between humanitarian rhetoric and coercive deterrence. A broader campaign would signal that strategic imperatives had finally eclipsed restraint.
For Iranians facing repression, this uncertainty itself exerts pressure—on the regime no less than on Washington.
For policymakers, the lesson is neither complacency nor inevitability, but clarity: intervention, if it comes, will arrive not as a moral reflex, but at the moment when humanitarian catastrophe, strategic threat, and political risk briefly align.
Blockchain forensics firm Chainalysis estimates that Iran’s crypto ecosystem exceeded $7.78 billion in 2025.
Any figure attached to Iran’s crypto economy is of course partial: both the state and private users have powerful incentives to conceal activity, whether to limit sanctions exposure or avoid domestic scrutiny.
What is increasingly clear, however, is that the state now dominates a large share of that volume.
Chainalysis estimates that the Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps processed more than $3 billion in crypto transactions last year. Israel’s counter-terror financing authority has published a seizure order listing 187 crypto addresses worth roughly $1.5 billion in Tether, a crypto denomination pegged to the dollar.
New findings by the blockchain analytics and crypto-compliance firm Elliptic link Iran’s central bank to at least $507 million in purchases of dollar-pegged Tether (USDT).
That stockpile could supplement constrained foreign-exchange reserves and help authorities lean against sudden spikes in the rial’s parallel market.
In effect, USDT can function as an off-balance-sheet foreign-exchange buffer: accumulated outside correspondent banking channels, mobilized through intermediaries, and sold into rial markets via local exchanges and over-the-counter desks when pressure builds.
Access, however, is not evenly distributed. Reports indicate state blessing for—or "whitelisting"—internet connectivity for certain traders, even as much of the country has endured a pervasive internet blackout since a deadly crackdown on protestors ramped up on Jan. 8.
When the rial comes under pressure, connectivity itself becomes an instrument of intervention: stablecoin-based market operations still require traders who can connect, quote prices, and settle transactions.
Alternate reality for households
Iran’s central bank has imposed limits on currency trading and transaction flows, while rolling out an anti-speculation tax regime covering gold, jewelry, foreign currency and cryptocurrencies.
The effect has been to raise the cost of traditional inflation hedges while signaling that policymakers now view household portfolio shifts as a macroeconomic risk.
The central bank has moved to cap individual crypto holdings at $10,000, despite warnings from Iranian traders and economists that such restrictions would choke savings and push activity further underground.
On the mining side, the divide is even starker. State-linked and religious institutions are among the largest players, in part because electricity tariffs in Iran are not uniform.
Iran International has reported repeated allegations of crypto mining at state-sponsored sites, including mosques, which benefit from reduced energy rates—an obvious advantage in an industry where profitability hinges on power costs.
The result is effectively two mining economies: small operators running rigs at home or in workshops, attempting to stay invisible, and state-linked actors with access to cheaper electricity, larger facilities, and more predictable protection.
Authorities have periodically blamed illegal neighborhood miners, but some experts see that focus as a way to deflect attention from deeper problems of grid management and governance.
Where the cheapest power is concentrated in privileged institutions and enforcement is uneven, the largest rents accrue not to households plugging in a single machine, but to organized actors with access.
Iran has become a cutting-edge battlefield of monetary adaptation. The central bank experiments with stablecoins to stabilize the rial, while households use the same rails to escape it.
A tightly capped, KYC-only micro-saver lane could offer households limited protection for modest savings while increasing transparency and helping isolate state-connected networks operating at scale.
The unresolved question is whether regulated crypto channels can be structured to distinguish household self-preservation from state-linked finance—or whether policy choices will continue to push both into the same shadows.
Whether the state and its beleaguered citizenry can defy mounting economic pressure may hang in the balance.
