Daniel DePetris

Ebrahim Raisi, the hardliner jurist-turned-president of the Islamic Republic of Iran, died in a plane crash over the weekend after coming back from a ceremony marking a new joint dam project with Azerbaijan. Iranian foreign minister Hossein Amir-Abdollahian, who was also on board, perished in the crash as well.  Few Iranians outside the political system will mourn their deaths. Raisi, for instance, was a notorious, unapologetic defender of the Iranian regime and first got involved in its machinations in his mid-twenties. In 1988, he served on a panel that handed down death sentences for thousands of dissidents.

Back in 2016, Donald Trump had a memorable quote that pretty much encapsulated his old over the Republican Party: "I could stand in the middle of Fifth Avenue and shoot somebody, and I wouldn't lose any voters, OK.” At this point, you might be able say the same thing about Israeli prime minister Benjamin Netanyahu. The premier could stroll up Fifth Avenue, shoot somebody on the street and still receive US-supplied joint direct attack munitions, 2,000-pound bombs, fighter aircraft and no-strings-attached diplomatic support. The man can apparently do no wrong in the eyes of the Biden administration — or more accurately, he couldn’t do anything that would warrant even a minor, let alone substantive, adjustment in US policy.  But is that changing?

Twenty-one years ago today, the United States committed its worst foreign-policy mistake in generations: invading Iraq to overthrow Saddam Hussein, the despot who ruled the Arab country with an iron fist for nearly a quarter-century. The entire operation was supposed to be a “cakewalk,” in which the mighty US military, stocked with the best technology and weapons the world had to offer, would pummel a decrepit Iraqi army that was hobbled by international sanctions for the better part of a decade. The mood at the time was serious but stoic. Donald Rumsfeld, the US defense secretary, argued that the entire war wouldn’t last more than five months.

One of the first rules of politics and policy is to keep expectations low, lest you disappoint your constituents and embarrass yourself for being hopelessly naive.  Apparently President Joe Biden didn’t get the memo.  During a stop in New York City this week for a taping of NBC’s Late Night with Seth Meyers, Biden was eager, if not downright giddy, about the prospects of a temporary ceasefire in Gaza. Ice cream cone in hand, the president told the White House press corps that Jake Sullivan, his national security advisor, believes a truce is close at hand.  “My hope is that, by next Monday, we’ll have a ceasefire,” Biden said.

The drone strike that struck near the sleeping quarters of a small US outpost in northeastern Jordan, killing three American troops in the process, has landed like a thud in the corridors of the Biden administration. Hawkish lawmakers who have been jonesing to bomb Iran into the Stone Age for years, such as Lindsey Graham and Tom Cotton, are using the weekend’s travesty to push the argument to an even higher decibel. The logic: Iran and its proxies need to understand that the US won’t be pushed around. It’s an emotionally satisfying response, but one that could get the United States into a heap of trouble if not thought through and tailored appropriately. President Biden and his advisors have spent the last forty-eight hours talking through options.