risks

A shock-and-awe campaign laying down a tsunami of bombs. An enemy succumbing rapidly under overwhelming firepower. And a triumphant U.S. president trumpeting a quick and easy campaign.

In 2003, President George W. Bush strode confidently on the deck of an aircraft carrier less than five weeks after he ordered the invasion of Iraq and declared the “end of major combat operations” under a banner proclaiming “Mission Accomplished.”

It proved anything but.

The invasion became a meat grinder, leaving thousands of Americans and possibly more than a million Iraqis dead. It unleashed forces whose effects are felt in the region and beyond to this day.

More than two decades later, another U.S. president attacked another Persian Gulf nation, promising rapid success in yet another Middle East adventure that he says will remake the region.

President Trump and his staff have vehemently rejected any comparison between “Operation Epic Fury,” launched Saturday, and “Operation Iraqi Freedom.” On Monday, Defense Secretary Pete Hegseth gave a pugnacious news conference, insisting, “This is not Iraq. This is not endless.”

Yet the assault on Iran — almost four times larger than Iraq with more than double its population — presents no lack of challenges, ones that could spread chaos far beyond Iran’s borders and become a defining feature of Trump’s presidency.

In many ways, analysts say, toppling Iran’s leadership represents a much more complex task than Iraq ever did. Iraq was a state with deep sectarian divisions that was largely dominated by a single dictator: Saddam Hussein.

The Iran that emerged after the 1978-79 Islamic Revolution had a supreme leader, but Iran also developed an elaborate system of governance. That includes a president, a parliament and varying governmental, military and religious hierarchies, noted Paul Salem, senior fellow at the Middle East Institute.

“Unlike Saddam’s Iraq, the Iranian state is multi-institutional and hence much more resilient — and, yes, not as vulnerable,” Salem said. “And hostility to the United States and Israel is at the heart of the Islamic Revolution — baked into the state.”

Here are some of the ways the Iran attacks could develop into the very scenarios Trump once derided in his days as the antiwar candidate:

Boots on the ground

For now, the U.S. and Israel have wielded air power to pound Tehran into submission. In the first minutes of the joint operation, a 200-plane fleet — Israel’s largest — struck more than 500 targets in Iran, according to the Israeli military. One such strike killed Supreme Leader Ayatollah Ali Khamenei.

Iran is still fighting back, lobbing missiles at Israel, Persian Gulf nations, Jordan and other areas with U.S. bases in the region. The U.S. has the qualitative and quantitative edge of materiel to eventually prevail, but Iran’s capabilities will not make it easy, as the losses in service members and planes have demonstrated in the last two days.

And wars have never been won with air power alone. Rather than relying on boots on the ground, Trump expects ordinary Iranians to finish the job for him.

“When we are finished, take over your government. It will be yours to take,” he said in a video address on the first day of the campaign.

During the Arab Spring of 2011, protesters throughout the Middle East took to the streets to demand change. But those efforts mostly did not lead to significant reforms and, in some countries, prompted further repression.

In Iran, it’s true many people would welcome the Islamic Republic’s demise — as many Iraqis rejoiced at Hussein’s fall. But it’s unlikely that mostly unarmed protesters will triumph in a confrontation against enforcers from the Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps or its volunteer wing, the Basij.

It’s also difficult to gauge how many of Iran’s 93 million people despise the government enough to rise up against it.

Meanwhile, Trump has left the door open for dispatching U.S. troops, but the math of such a deployment raises doubts.

According to the U.S. Army, counterinsurgency doctrine dictates 20 to 25 troops for every 1,000 inhabitants to achieve stability. In the case of Iran that would entail deploying 1.9 million people — almost all the U.S. military’s active duty, reserve and National Guard personnel.

New leadership unclear

At this point, it’s not clear that decapitation of much of Iran’s leadership class will produce any real change in government, much less a successor inclined to bend to U.S. wishes. The top echelons of the Islamic Republic boast a deep bench of mostly hard-liners — not surprising, perhaps, for a nation that has braced for attack for years, if not decades.

Whatever new leadership that does emerge could rally around the “martyrdom” of Khamenei. Not especially popular in life, he appears to have become, in death, a rallying cry for defiance. And martyrs are exalted in Shiite Islam, Iran’s prevalent faith.

“He was the religious leader of the Shiites, so it’s sort of like killing the pope,” Salem said. “And he’s more popular dying as a martyr, than, say, of a heart attack. … He went out in style, no doubt about it.”

When the U.S. occupied Iraq, the expectation was that whatever came next would be a fervent U.S. ally, an idea perhaps best captured in the notion in Washington that a grateful Iraqi populace would shower U.S. troops with flowers. That didn’t happen. And in the Darwin-esque culling of leaders that followed, the ones that emerged victorious had little love for the U.S.

One of them was Nouri Al-Maliki, a Shiite supremacist whose policies were blamed for fueling years of sectarian bloodletting, and whose loyalties often seemed more aligned with Tehran than Washington.

Meanwhile, Tehran, playing on its proximity and deep ties to the new Iraqi ruling class, was able to steer Iraq — a majority Shiite country — deeper into its orbit.

After the Iraqi government — with the help of a U. S.-led coalition — pushed Islamic State out of Iraq in 2017, Iran was able to embed allied militias into Iraq’s armed services. That created the paradoxical situation of Tehran-aligned fighters wielding U.S.-supplied materiel.

Iraq has yet to emerge from Iran’s shadow. After Iraq’s most recent elections, Maliki seems poised to become prime minister once more, prompting Trump to write on Truth Social, “Because of his insane policies and ideologies, if elected, the United States of America will no longer help Iraq.”

A fragmented opposition

Iran’s population is diverse; an estimated two-thirds of Iranians are Persian, while minorities include Kurds, Baloch, Arabs and Azeris.

Those minorities have long-standing grievances against the ruling majority. It’s possible that Trump’s campaign and the resulting disorder could fuel separatist tensions.

Just last month, Iranian Kurdish factions joined together in a coalition that they said would seek the overthrow of the Islamic Republic “to achieve the Kurdish people’s right to self-determination, and to establish a national and democratic entity based on the political will of the Kurdish nation in Iranian Kurdistan.”

An experienced insurgency

Over the decades, the Islamic Republic created a network that at its peak stretched from Pakistan to Lebanon.

It was a fearsome constellation of paramilitary factions and amenable governments that became known as the Axis of Resistance. It included Hezbollah in Lebanon, Hamas in Palestinian lands, Yemen’s Houthis, and militias in Iraq, Afghanistan and Pakistan.

After Hamas’ Oct. 7, 2023, attacks, Israel — and, eventually, the United States — launched offensive campaigns to defang the groups.

Although weakened, the factions still survive, and could form a powerful, transnational and motivated insurgency when the time comes to fight whatever emerges if the Islamic Republic falls.

Bulos reported from Khartoum, Sudan, and McDonnell from Mexico City.

March 1 (Asia Today) — Japan is closely monitoring the risk of a potential blockade of the Strait of Hormuz as tensions surrounding Iran intensify, with officials and media warning of possible energy supply disruptions similar to those faced by South Korea.

Japan relies on the Middle East for about 90% of its crude oil imports, most of which passes through the narrow waterway connecting the Persian Gulf to global markets. South Korea imports roughly 70% to 90% of its crude from the same region, making both economies vulnerable to prolonged instability.

Japanese newspapers including The Asahi Shimbun and The Yomiuri Shimbun reported Saturday that shipping traffic in the strait has already been affected following recent U.S. and Israeli strikes on Iran. According to Asahi, Iran’s Revolutionary Guard has broadcast warnings to vessels transiting the strait, prompting some tankers to halt operations or reroute. British maritime authorities said several ships reported receiving notifications that the waterway was “blocked,” though the actual status could not be independently confirmed.

About 20 million barrels of crude oil pass through the Strait of Hormuz each day, making it one of the world’s most critical energy chokepoints. The Yomiuri said roughly 80% of tankers bound for Japan transit the strait, raising concerns that a prolonged disruption could lead to supply shortages and sharp price increases.

The Japanese government convened a National Security Council meeting Friday night to assess the situation, focusing on the safety of Japanese nationals and potential economic fallout. The Foreign Ministry issued an advisory urging about 200 Japanese citizens in Iran to consider evacuation while commercial flights remain available.

Japan’s trade ministry said the country holds combined public and private petroleum reserves equivalent to about 254 days of domestic consumption as of the end of December, providing a short-term buffer against supply shocks. However, media outlets warned that stockpiles would not shield consumers from rising fuel costs.

On commodity markets, West Texas Intermediate crude has risen about 17% over the past two months, with the April contract settling at $67.83 on Feb. 27, the highest level in six months. Japanese analysts cited projections that oil could exceed $100 per barrel if Hormuz traffic is severely disrupted, potentially shaving 0.3% to 0.6% off Japan’s gross domestic product.

Analysts note that South Korea shares similar structural exposure, as most of its Middle Eastern oil imports also pass through Hormuz and the Strait of Malacca, underscoring the broader regional economic risks tied to escalating tensions.

— Reported by Asia Today; translated by UPI

© Asia Today. Unauthorized reproduction or redistribution prohibited.

Original Korean report: https://www.asiatoday.co.kr/kn/view.php?key=20260301010000068

This Valentine’s Day, chocolate prices are no longer at last year’s peak, but cheap chocolate has not made a comeback, and it probably never will. Last year’s cocoa price crisis, driven by a combination of extreme heat, drought and disease in key producing regions, may have eased. But the aftertaste remains: A market that no longer behaves the way it used to, because the landscapes that grow cocoa are no longer the same. And the world’s unwitting appetite for cheap chocolate at the expense of biodiversity is part of the reason.

Cocoa is one of the most rainfall-dependent crops in the tropics, grown mainly by smallholders with few safety nets. Because cocoa production is concentrated in a handful of regions, a bad season in one place can quickly ripple across global supply. That fragility was laid bare in 2024, when the Ivory Coast and Ghana, which produce nearly 60 percent of the world’s cocoa, were hit by climate extremes that slashed harvests. Prices surged by more than 300 percent, squeezing some farmers, enriching others, and leaving consumers paying for the uncertainty.

The problem is not simply that cocoa is vulnerable. It is that we have built a cocoa economy that magnifies the vulnerability. For decades, the world has chased low prices and high output, and too often that has meant converting forest landscapes into farmland, from West Africa to parts of Latin America and Southeast Asia.

But forests are not optional. They regulate rainfall, protect soils, and create the microclimates on which cocoa depends. Full-sun cocoa farms can produce higher yields in the short term, but the sugar rush is followed by a costly crash: Depleted soils, limited protection from heat and drought that is on the increase, and little for farmers to fall back on when the monocrops fail. Yields fall, farms expand deeper into forests to compensate, and the cycle repeats.

This is why cocoa’s price volatility is not a temporary blip. It is a warning sign: We are weakening the natural systems cocoa depends on at the same moment that climate change is making harvests less reliable.

Research by the United Nations’ Food and Agriculture Organization (FAO) shows how extreme heat undermines agriculture, reducing both the quantity and quality of crop yields and increasing pest and disease pressure. A recent study modelling cocoa under mid-century climate change finds that warming could wipe out as much as a third to half of today’s suitable cocoa area in some core producing zones, while shifting production towards new regions. Without safeguards, that transition risks trading climate stress in one place for forest loss in another. The details will vary across regions, but the implication is global: As climate change alters weather patterns, the geography of cocoa production will shift, and a stable supply will become harder to take for granted.

Unless we build resilience now, future Valentine’s Days may come with less chocolate and higher prices.

But we can eat our chocolate and keep forests too, by changing how cocoa is grown. It starts with bringing trees back to cocoa farms, reversing the damaging practices that are ultimately undermining production. Change can be made through climate-resilient agroforestry practices that rebuild shade cover, improve soil health and moisture retention, and reduce cocoa’s exposure to heat and drought. Cocoa grown under shade trees can stabilise farm conditions and support biodiversity, while producing higher-quality beans that meet premium market standards, giving farmers stronger incentives to maintain tree cover rather than clear more land.

Sceptics argue that growing cocoa with trees means accepting lower yields. But when it comes to unsustainable practices, high productivity today comes with a high cost tomorrow. A farm that exhausts its soil, loses shade, is exposed to drought, and needs ever more chemical inputs to maintain production is not a success story. It is a trap.

In a changing climate, the point is not how much cocoa a farm can produce in a year, but how reliably it can produce year after year. That requires resilience built into the landscape, now more than ever: More tree cover, healthier soils, and diversified farm systems that protect livelihoods when climate extremes hit.

This is not theoretical. It is already happening.

In Ecuador’s Amazon province of Napo, a project financed by the Global Environment Facility (GEF) and supported with technical assistance from the FAO has helped strengthen a sustainable cocoa value chain built around the traditional Chakra agroforestry system used by Kichwa communities. Put simply, it is cocoa grown as part of a forest garden: Kichwa women known as Chakramamas help steward these farms, cultivating cocoa under shade trees alongside a diverse mix of other crops and native plants, rather than clearing land for a single crop. Recognised by FAO as a Globally Important Agricultural Heritage System, the model is still expanding more than a decade on, helping Indigenous producer families earn more from premium cocoa through stronger processing, marketing, and partnerships with high-value buyers. High-end chocolatiers continue to source from Chakra producers, showing that cocoa grown alongside trees can deliver world-class quality while keeping forests standing for biodiversity, climate and land benefits.

There are more examples. In the Ivory Coast, FAO-backed efforts supported by the Green Climate Fund are already delivering results, restoring 1,084 hectares (2,679 acres) of degraded land and converting 3,527 hectares (8,715 acres) of conventional cocoa into improved agroforestry systems while reducing pressure on forests. Meanwhile, 234 farmers now have access to cocoa cooperatives, ensuring access to international fair-trade and organic certifications and a better price for their products. In Sao Tome and Principe, FAO has supported cocoa agroforestry through the GEF-funded Restoration Initiative, helping restore nearly 10,000 hectares (about 25,000 acres) of forest and improve land management across a further 23,000 hectares (about 57,000 acres). These are not boutique experiments. They are working models for stabilising supply, supporting farmer incomes, and reducing the forest loss that fuels cocoa’s growing volatility.

But projects alone will not be enough. Scaling them will take serious investment: From governments, companies, and consumers. It will also require rules that shift incentives across the entire cocoa economy, such as a new European Union law that requires cocoa and chocolate entering the EU market to be deforestation-free. By tying market access to how cocoa is grown, these rules are pushing governments, producers, and companies to rethink production models, improve traceability, and strengthen zero-deforestation cocoa systems.

Governments will also need to invest in farmer adaptation and long-term productivity, not just short-term output. That means accessible finance, practical support on farms, and policies that reward sustainable production instead of expansion into forests.

And chocolate companies need to promote resilience across their supply chains, not just chase volume. In a world of climate disruption, the cheapest cocoa is not necessarily the best bargain if it comes at the expense of farmers’ livelihoods or the ecosystems that keep cocoa viable in the years to come.

Paying farmers for chocolate that keeps forests standing is not a luxury. It is part of what makes cocoa more available and keeps farmers in business in a warming world. Chocolate is sold as a simple pleasure, but cocoa is no longer a simple crop: Its future depends on whether we treat forests and biodiversity as essential infrastructure for stable and resilient agrifood systems.

The views expressed in this article are the author’s own and do not necessarily reflect Al Jazeera’s editorial stance.