Is Iran America's Suez moment?
The war with Iran tests the limits of United States power, with implications for Africa’s place in a more contested global order.
In November 1956, British and French forces invaded Egypt, expecting a short operation that would restore Western control of the Suez Canal and bring President Gamal Abdel Nasser to heel. Militarily, the operation succeeded. Strategically, it was a disaster.
Seventy years later, the United States' war against Iran raises an uncomfortable question: could this be America's Suez moment — the conflict that exposes the gap between overwhelming military force and the power to shape the international order? Historical analogies are always imperfect, but this one carries important lessons, not least for Africa.
The differences are real. Britain in 1956 was an indebted imperial power in a decades-long relative decline. The United States today remains the world's most powerful country, with unmatched military reach, the dominant reserve currency, leading technology companies and an extensive alliance network — although President Donald Trump is working hard to dismantle the last of these. Iran, too, is a far larger and more capable adversary than Nasser's Egypt.
Hubris also played a more immediate role this time. Washington went to war with Iran on the heels of its quick and easy intervention in Venezuela. Yet Britain, too, believed itself more powerful than it proved to be.
The analogy holds because Suez was not primarily a military defeat. It showed that Britain could no longer convert military capability into a sustainable political outcome. Iran's ability to absorb the worst that American firepower and financial sanctions could inflict, and remain standing, points to a similar gap.
Suez showed that Britain could no longer convert military capability into a sustainable political outcome; the Iran war may expose a similar gap for the United States
The comparison between British and American indebtedness is closer than most suspect. The United States gross federal debt is approaching 101% of GDP, and the Congressional Budget Office projects it will reach 120% by 2036, surpassing the post-Second World War record. The annual deficit runs at about US$2 trillion and is projected to reach US$3.1 trillion by 2036. Washington already spends more on net interest than on defence.
What sustains this is the dollar's status as the dominant reserve currency and the depth of the United States’ financial markets, which let Washington finance large deficits in its own currency at favourable rates. Without those advantages, the debt trajectory would force far harsher fiscal adjustment — and confidence of this kind can erode quickly.
An extraordinary AI investment race compounds the risk. Amazon, Alphabet, Meta and Microsoft alone are expected to commit more than US$700 billion in capital expenditure in 2026, mostly on data centres and computing capacity. Much of this is driven by fear of falling behind, and premised on returns that have yet to be demonstrated.
Meanwhile, borrowing conditions are deteriorating. The yield on the benchmark 10-year Treasury crossed 5% in September, its highest level since 2007, on the eve of the global financial crisis. Massive corporate borrowing for AI infrastructure now competes with Treasury issuance for global capital.
Treasury Secretary Scott Bessent argues that America can grow its way out of debt. Stronger growth and AI-driven productivity gains would certainly help. But faster growth can also push up interest rates, and with them the cost of servicing the debt. There is little evidence that productivity can substitute for difficult choices on taxation and spending.
Britain and France acted after Nasser nationalised the Suez Canal Company. Israel invaded Sinai; London and Paris then issued a deliberately unacceptable ultimatum and intervened, ostensibly to separate the combatants and protect the canal.
Like Trump today, Britain badly misjudged the international environment. President Dwight Eisenhower opposed the operation and used diplomatic and financial pressure to force a ceasefire and withdrawal. Britain learned that sterling's vulnerability, its dependence on American financial support and its loss of legitimacy mattered more than its forces' ability to seize territory. Washington's objections then echo the warnings America's own allies voiced before Trump's rush to war with Iran.
Suez did not end British power overnight. Britain kept its nuclear weapons, its permanent seat on the UN Security Council and its global diplomatic reach. But it destroyed the illusion that Britain remained an autonomous global power.
The Iran war may test the United States in a comparable way. Washington is discovering that military superiority no longer guarantees political compliance — and it is doing so after alienating its most important strategic asset, the Western alliance, just as China expands its footprint and ambition in every domain.
America can destroy Iran's military installations, disable its ships and impose enormous economic costs. The harder questions are political. Can it compel Iran to accept a stable settlement? Can it secure regional order without an indefinite military commitment? Can it stop higher oil prices, disrupted shipping and civilian suffering from eroding international support? And can it do all this without accelerating the search for alternatives to American leadership?
The United States will remain one of the world's two leading powers through 2050, alongside China. But the emerging order will be more complicated. Writing for African Futures, Collin Meisel describes it as "mini-polar": broadly dominated by Washington and Beijing, but increasingly shaped by India, a potentially cohesive European Union and middle powers that exert influence in their own regions.
A prolonged, inconclusive war with Iran is accelerating that transition. Few countries will rally behind Tehran, but neither will they simply accept Washington's framing of the conflict. China, India, Türkiye, the Gulf states and others will pursue their own interests — securing energy supplies, exploiting diplomatic openings and resisting precedents that constrain their freedom of action. Even long-standing partners now distinguish between relying on the United States' security capabilities and endorsing the United States' strategy.
That is the deeper Suez parallel. Britain's failure revealed that the international system had changed faster than British strategic thinking. A failed American attempt to reorder Iran could likewise reveal that the era in which Washington could define a conflict, mobilise broad support and dictate its outcome has passed.
For Africa, this is not an abstract shift. African countries are especially exposed to higher energy and food prices, shrinking development finance and pressure to align with competing blocs. Yet, the erosion of unquestioned Western dominance also creates room for agency. Africa's population, markets, critical minerals, diplomatic numbers and strategic geography will matter more. That leverage will remain modest, however, if 54 states negotiate separately and external powers can play them off against one another.
Africa’s leverage will remain modest if 54 states negotiate separately and external powers can play them off against one another
The sensible response is neither automatic alignment with Washington nor rhetorical celebration of its difficulties. Replacing Western dominance with coercive regional powers would not serve Africa. The goal should be strategic pluralism: maintaining relationships with the United States, Europe, China, India, the Gulf states and others while avoiding excessive dependence on any one of them.
That requires stronger African institutions, deeper implementation of the African Continental Free Trade Area, coordinated diplomatic positions, transparent agreements on security and mineral beneficiation and greater resilience in food, energy, finance and payment systems. Demographic weight becomes power only when populations are healthy, educated and productively employed.
Suez marked the point at which Britain's self-image collided with global reality. The Iran war could do something similar to the United States — not by ending American power, but by showing that preponderant military capacity is no longer synonymous with global dominance.
The lesson for Africa is clear. The continent must prepare not for a simple transfer of power from West to East, but for a more contested world, in which influence will belong to the countries and coalitions that can navigate complexity, reduce dependence and bargain effectively.
Image: sfischer2369/Pixabay
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