President Trump and Secretary Hegseth have lately doubled down on the claim that the United States continues to “dominate” Iran militarily, having killed multiple sets of Iranian commanders. As political messaging, the argument is easy to understand. Americans are understandably reluctant to criticize their armed forces, so emphasizing military competence is politically effective.
As strategy, however, it tells us very little.
With the nation’s 250th anniversary still fresh in mind, the Revolutionary War offers a reminder of how wars are actually won. George Washington fought what we would now call an asymmetric campaign. Rather than seeking decisive battles against a better-equipped British Army, he focused on preserving the Continental Army itself. The British, contrary to Hollywood, did not burn every colonial city or systematically destroy American infrastructure. They fought a war intended to restore political control, not annihilate the society they hoped eventually to govern. They possessed the capacity to inflict far greater destruction than they ultimately chose to. They understood that destruction alone would not constitute victory.
The British won many battles. They lost the war because military superiority could not compensate for political objectives they ultimately proved unable to achieve.
The Civil War offers a different lesson. Sherman devastated much of the South because his objective was to break the Confederacy’s capacity—and ultimately its will—to continue the war. But strategies that succeed against one adversary often fail against another. Iran’s government appears to possess a remarkably high tolerance for suffering, particularly the suffering of its own people. Coercion is never one-size-fits-all.
This raises a broader question about American strategy. The Powell Doctrine at least offered a coherent theory of victory: define a clear objective, apply overwhelming force, and leave once that objective had been achieved. In the current Iran crisis, however, the objective remains difficult to identify. Are we seeking to prevent a nuclear capability? To compel regime change? To secure the Strait of Hormuz? To deter future regional aggression?
One cannot apply overwhelming force toward an undefined end.
Modern warfare repeatedly demonstrates that strengths can become weaknesses. Precision weapons, unmatched military budgets, and global reach are extraordinary advantages. But they can also encourage the illusion that destroying targets is the same as achieving political objectives. It is not. Tactical victories—eliminating commanders, destroying facilities, demonstrating capability—may contribute to strategy, but they are not strategy itself.
There are options available to the United States. But boasting about American military performance means very little, particularly when America already spends more on defense than any other nation by a wide margin. Capability answers the question, Can we?
Strategy answers the question, Why are we?
Until we define victory, talk of domination tells us very little.