In the early hours of June 13, 2025, a coordinated and audacious Israeli assault on Iran’s nuclear facilities reverberated far beyond the mountains of Isfahan, Natanz, and Fordow. Precision-guided munitions, reportedly supported by U.S. satellite intelligence and enabled through Arab airspace cooperation, hit targets deep within Iranian territory—targets that were not hidden, but part of a civilian nuclear program monitored by the International Atomic Energy Agency (IAEA). In its immediate aftermath, this was interpreted by mainstream Western media as a necessary act of preemptive defense. But beneath this simplistic narrative lies a profound geopolitical rupture: a strike that may well have shattered the illusion of a rules-based international order, revealing instead a world shaped by coercive hierarchies, selective legality, and the slow but steady collapse of diplomatic trust.
The June 13 attack was not merely a military event—it was a geopolitical earthquake. While cloaked in the familiar language of deterrence and security, the strike on Iran was a calculated escalation aimed at reinforcing a global status quo in which certain states act with impunity, while others are condemned for even asserting sovereignty. The fact that the White House issued a tepid call for “de-escalation” while its military intelligence was reportedly instrumental in enabling the operation exposes the hollow neutrality of American diplomacy. Silence in such contexts is not restraint—it is complicity. And Iran, surrounded by hostile forces and suffocated by sanctions, understood this better than anyone else.
Tehran’s response, however, surprised many. Instead of unleashing retaliatory chaos, Iran executed a calibrated military response, targeting Israeli-linked military installations while avoiding civilian casualties. This was not weakness—it was strategic sophistication. It was a statement of restraint, not submission. In an era of asymmetric provocations and narrative manipulation, Iran’s decision to act within self-imposed limits contrasted sharply with the reckless aggression of its adversaries.
Yet, the deeper tragedy lies not just in the loss of life or the destruction of nuclear infrastructure. It lies in the global consequences: the erosion of trust in diplomacy, the weaponisation of norms, and the fading credibility of institutions meant to ensure international peace. Iran’s nuclear program, under the 2015 Joint Comprehensive Plan of Action (JCPOA), was one of the most intensely monitored in history. The IAEA had repeatedly certified Tehran’s compliance—until the U.S. under Donald Trump unilaterally walked away from the deal in 2018, triggering a predictable return to uranium enrichment by Iran. That enrichment was not an act of hostility—it was a sovereign decision made in response to betrayal.
In stark contrast, Israel, which has never signed the Nuclear Non-Proliferation Treaty (NPT), possesses an undeclared nuclear arsenal estimated at 80 to 90 warheads. Its facility at Dimona remains closed to international inspection. And yet, Israel is never sanctioned, never bombed, never even questioned. The rules, it appears, are not rules at all—they are tools of control applied selectively by those who write the playbook.
This selectivity extends beyond the Atlantic. The Arab world’s muted response to the attack was as conspicuous as it was strategic. While Gulf regimes such as Saudi Arabia, the UAE, and Bahrain issued predictable calls for “peace and stability,” aviation data revealed a different truth. Israeli aircraft reportedly transited through Arab-controlled airspace, and some regimes even facilitated mid-air refueling. These actions are not just complicit—they represent a strategic alignment born of fear, not principle. For these monarchies, Iran’s greatest threat is not its nuclear capability, but its independence. An Iran unaligned with the United States, unyielding to Israeli pressure, and committed to a sovereign regional vision stands as a dangerous precedent to Gulf elites who owe their survival to Western military guarantees.
This geopolitical duplicity does not end in the Middle East. India finds itself at the crossroads of this new global disorder. With territorial tensions flaring along its borders with China and Pakistan, and an increasingly transactional relationship with Western allies, New Delhi faces the delicate task of balancing its strategic autonomy with international expectations. The Iranian episode is a cautionary tale. It shows that transparency in nuclear policy offers no protection if geopolitics dictates otherwise. India, with its peaceful but advanced nuclear infrastructure, must now consider that even compliance with international norms might not shield it from narrative-driven coercion or preemptive suspicion.
Indeed, what Iran has endured is not unique—it is the latest in a series of provocations that illustrate the growing fragility of international law. From Gaza to the Gulf, Ukraine to the Indo-Pacific, the world is witnessing not isolated incidents but a systemic unraveling of diplomatic norms. The “rules-based international order” is no longer seen as an aspirational framework for global cooperation but as an instrument of hegemonic control. And this disillusionment is spreading, particularly across the Global South.
Across Asia, Africa, and Latin America, perceptions of Iran have begun to shift. Where once Tehran was portrayed as a pariah state, it is now increasingly seen as a victim of double standards—an embattled but defiant nation punished not for nuclear brinkmanship, but for its refusal to submit. Iran’s eastward pivot, marked by deeper energy cooperation with China, integration into BRICS+, and enhanced defense ties with Russia, reflects this transformation. It is not isolation—it is realignment.
Public opinion in emerging powers, from Delhi to Dakar, no longer accepts the West’s monopoly on moral judgment. This sentiment poses a profound threat to the old order. For if global governance is seen as a cover for strategic coercion, alternative frameworks will emerge—ones in which power is dispersed, alliances are redefined, and narratives are no longer controlled by Washington, London, or Brussels.
The real casualty of June 13 is not just Iranian infrastructure. It is trust—trust in the sanctity of diplomacy, in the fairness of global norms, in the promise that disarmament leads to peace. What incentive remains for smaller states to open their nuclear programs to inspection if transparency results in punishment? What message are we sending to nations trying to engage with international institutions in good faith? That treaties can be shredded, inspections ignored, and sovereign scientists killed without consequence?
Iran’s demands have never been unreasonable. It has repeatedly proposed a nuclear-free Middle East. It has championed regional dialogue, most notably through the Hormuz Peace Initiative. It seeks scientific self-reliance, not weaponization. These are not the ambitions of an expansionist regime—they are the security imperatives of a nation surrounded by hostility and encircled by foreign bases. Yet, despite this, Iran is branded as a rogue, while those who violate international law with impunity are rewarded with silence or strategic indulgence.
For all its rhetoric, the West fears one thing more than an Iranian bomb: an Iran that is independent. An Iran that refuses to normalize relations with Israel. An Iran that refuses to accept U.S. tutelage. An Iran that will not be converted into another client state—compliant, silent, and servile. But sovereignty is not subversion. Resistance is not proliferation. These distinctions matter, especially in a world where diplomacy is fast becoming just another battlefield.
Until the day the West holds itself to the same standards it demands of others, every missile fired on Natanz or Fordow will echo far beyond Iranian soil. It will reverberate in every capital that dares to defy hegemonic expectations, that aspires to genuine autonomy, and that seeks an equitable global order. June 13 may be remembered not as the day war began—but as the day the mask of global governance finally slipped.
Dipak Kurmi
Tuesday, June 24, 2025