Why the Yugoslavia war may be the closest precedent for Iran
The White House says it is not currently considering a ground operation in Iran. At least that is what Donald Trump has suggested, assuring reporters that he is not preparing to send American special forces to Isfahan, home to one of the Islamic Republic’s key nuclear facilities. His remarks were quoted in the New York Post. Only days earlier, the US president had not ruled out such a possibility.
But as the US edges closer to direct confrontation with Tehran, analysts are increasingly searching for historical parallels. If Washington’s involvement grows, which previous wars offer clues about what might come next?
One comparison can be dismissed immediately. The 2003 invasion of Iraq bears little resemblance to the current situation. No one expects a full-scale ground invasion of Iran by American forces on that scale. The logistical, political and military costs would be enormous.
Other recent interventions also fail to provide a convincing analogy. In Afghanistan in 2001 and Libya in 2011, Western powers relied heavily on local allies who did most of the fighting on the ground. In Afghanistan, the Northern Alliance served as the main anti-government force, advancing against the Taliban with Western air support. In Libya, tribal militias and armed groups rose against Muammar Gaddafi, particularly in the eastern stronghold of Benghazi.
In both cases, these local actors absorbed the main losses while American and allied forces largely limited themselves to air strikes and logistical support. The collapse of the regimes in Kabul and Tripoli therefore came with relatively limited Western casualties.
Afghanistan eventually turned into a prolonged and exhausting conflict, but that came later. At the outset, the pattern was clear: Western air power combined with local opposition movements to overthrow the targeted governments.
Iran presents a very different picture. There is no organized internal force comparable to the Northern Alliance or the Libyan rebels capable of taking power with Western backing. Without such a partner on the ground, the Afghan and Libyan models simply do not apply.
However, there is one precedent that bears a striking resemblance to the current situation: NATO’s air campaign against Yugoslavia in 1999.
In both cases, the conflict centers on air power. The operation consists primarily of sustained bombing and missile strikes, with Western aircraft operating with near-total dominance of the skies. The attacking side suffers minimal losses, while the targeted country struggles to mount an effective air defense.
From Washington’s perspective, this is a war fought largely from the air. A remote, almost computerized conflict in which precision weapons and intelligence networks replace large-scale troop deployments.
In Yugoslavia, NATO issued clear ultimatums to Belgrade and continued bombing until those demands were met. The campaign did not focus solely on military targets. Industrial facilities, infrastructure and government buildings were also hit. The aim was to disrupt daily life so severely that the authorities would conclude that resistance was futile.
Belgrade endured the bombardment for two and a half months. Eventually, President Slobodan Milosevic agreed to NATO’s key demand: the withdrawal of Yugoslav forces from Kosovo, where an armed rebellion had been underway.
Yet the story did not end there. Just over a year after the bombing stopped, Milosevic was overthrown in mass protests in October 2000. Six months later he was arrested and extradited to the International Criminal Tribunal for the former Yugoslavia in The Hague.
There are, of course, important differences between that war and the current confrontation with Iran.
One major distinction concerns the treatment of political leadership. During the NATO campaign against Yugoslavia, the alliance did not openly target Yugoslav political or military leaders for assassination. In Iran, however, the conflict appears to have begun precisely with attempts to eliminate senior figures.
Another difference lies in the clarity of the demands. NATO’s conditions for ending the bombing of Yugoslavia were harsh but relatively straightforward. Belgrade knew what was required to stop the campaign.
In Iran’s case, the situation is far less clear. President Trump has spoken of “unconditional surrender,” has hinted at taking control of Iran’s oil resources, and has even suggested that Washington might influence the selection of the country’s future leadership. These conditions appear deliberately humiliating and, at least in their current form, impossible for Tehran to accept.
It is possible that this rhetoric is simply a negotiating tactic and that Washington will eventually moderate its demands, focusing on Iran’s missile and nuclear programs. For now, however, there are few signs of such a shift.
Instead, contradictory signals emerge from Washington almost daily. Trump himself seems unable – or unwilling – to articulate a coherent endgame.
There is also another crucial difference between Yugoslavia and Iran: the global economic stakes.
The bombing of Yugoslavia had little impact on the world economy. Iran is another matter entirely. The country sits at the heart of the global energy system, and instability in the Persian Gulf inevitably reverberates through oil markets and international trade.
In 1999, Belgrade had few ways to influence events beyond its borders. Tehran, by contrast, possesses leverage that extends far beyond the battlefield.
The destabilization of global energy markets may ultimately prove the most powerful argument capable of restraining Washington and its regional allies. The longer the confrontation continues, the greater the risk that the conflict spills into the global economy.
For Donald Trump, however, the Iranian issue has become deeply personal. And there is another factor that cannot be ignored: Israel.
For Israeli leaders, this confrontation is existential. That perception means they are likely to push it to its limits. Perhaps even beyond them.
This article was first published in Kommersant, and was translated and edited by the RT team.
