Following the missile exchanges in April and October 2024, Israel and Iran once again edged dangerously close to full-scale war in 2025.

In the early hours of June 13 (local time), Israel launched a series of large-scale airstrikes against Iran. The targets included military bases near Tehran, the residences of senior commanders, and nuclear facilities in Natanz, Khondab, and Khorramabad.

As of now, Iran has confirmed the deaths of several high-ranking officials, including Major General Hossein Salami, Commander-in-Chief of the Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps (IRGC); Major General Mohammad Bagheri, Chief of Staff of the Iranian Armed Forces; and Ali Shamkhani, senior advisor to Supreme Leader Ayatollah Ali Khamenei. Prominent nuclear scientists such as Fereydoun Abbasi and Mohammad Mehdi Tehranchi were also killed in the strikes.

This marks the largest assault on Iran since the Iran-Iraq War, and the level of humiliation is hard to overstate. Supreme Leader Khamenei, the Iranian Foreign Ministry, and the Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps (IRGC) swiftly vowed retaliation. Alaeddin Boroujerdi, a member of the Iranian parliament, publicly announced that Iran would withdraw from the sixth round of nuclear negotiations, originally scheduled for June 15.

Israel, for its part, has adopted an equally uncompromising posture. Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu declared that the operations would continue for several days “until the threat is completely eradicated.” IDF Chief of General Staff Lieutenant General Eyal Zamir stated that tens of thousands of Israeli troops were being mobilized, warning that “anyone who dares to challenge us will pay a heavy price.”

As Israel’s closest ally and a participant in the nuclear negotiations, the United States has also issued statements laced with veiled threats. Secretary of State Marco Rubio quickly emphasized that this was a unilateral Israeli action. While Washington had been informed beforehand, he stressed that “the U.S. was not involved,” and therefore Iran should not target American assets or personnel. President Donald Trump took an even harsher tone, warning that Iran must “immediately reach a deal on its nuclear program” or face “more devastating and lethal military action.”

However, these joint threats from Washington and Tel Aviv have not fully deterred Tehran. On the night of June 13, Iran launched over 100 Shahed drones and 150 ballistic missiles in retaliation, with some successfully striking targets in Tel Aviv. The speed and intensity of the response surpassed both rounds of confrontation in 2024. Israel soon followed with a new wave of attacks, and Iran’s retaliation has not ceased.
If neither side is willing to de-escalate, the prospect of a peaceful resolution to the conflict grows increasingly bleak.

From Washington’s perspective, while this crisis represents a continuation of the proxy warfare between Israel and Iran in 2024—set in motion by the 2023 “Al-Aqsa Flood” operation—it also highlights the unique regional dynamics unfolding under Trump’s second term. The moderate faction in Washington may have envisioned a strategic “pivot” in the Middle East, but its efforts remain constrained by the influence of hardline hawks and the destabilizing actions of Israel.

Trump’s Middle East “Pivot”

The narrative of a “strategic pivot” began gaining traction following President Trump’s visit to the Middle East in May 2025, which sparked widespread discussion over his many norm-defying decisions—ranging from lifting certain sanctions on Syria, signing substantial investment deals with Gulf states, to the highly unusual itinerary that notably excluded Israel.

Many analysts believe this deliberate omission of Israel from the itinerary—set against the backdrop of renewed conflict in Gaza in March and the U.S. restarting nuclear talks with Iran in April—reflects a deliberate snub by Washington toward Tel Aviv. Trump’s visit was widely interpreted as a signal that the U.S. has alternative partners in the region—and that its Middle East strategy doesn’t necessarily have to center on Israel.

Further developments have reinforced this narrative of the U.S.’ “strategic pivot.” According to an exclusive report by Bloomberg on May 31, Taiwan Semiconductor Manufacturing Company (TSMC) has held multiple meetings with MGX, a prominent investment firm in the UAE, to assess the feasibility of establishing a plant in the Emirates. These meetings reportedly took place with the knowledge and participation of Steve Witkoff, the U.S. Special Envoy for Middle East Affairs. If realized, this would bring the UAE closer to its long-sought goal of becoming a regional AI hub and deepen its integration with the U.S.-led semiconductor supply chain.

Overall, from brokering ceasefire efforts in Gaza and engaging in nuclear talks with Iran, to sidelining Israel, courting Gulf countries, lifting sanctions on Syria, and entertaining the prospect of an “Arab TSMC,” the foundation of this pivot is clear. The underlying logic is also straightforward: Trump appears poised to defy US’s diplomatic orthodoxy and abandon the traditional U.S. pro-Israel stance in favor of aligning more closely with Gulf Arab powers.

However, this shift fails to answer a core question: if the U.S. truly intends to abandon Tel Aviv, why has it not halted military aid to Israel? Why hasn’t it imposed effective sanctions on Israel? The reality is that such a “pivot” is never a black-and-white choice. U.S.-Israel ties are so deeply entrenched, both politically and strategically, that not even war can sever them.
Zooming out, Trump’s seemingly bold policy shifts are often merely variants of mainstream U.S. positions. For instance, his much-criticized Russia policy—earning him comparisons to a modern-day Neville Chamberlain—echoes earlier overtures by figures like Angela Merkel and Barack Obama. His Middle East pivot follows a similar logic. When examined in isolation, each move has precedents in past U.S. administrations.

Take, for example, the normalization of ties with Syria, nuclear negotiations with Iran, and the halting progress on Gaza ceasefires-while seemingly disconnected, they collectively aim to de-escalate Iran-Israel tensions, enhance Israeli security, and stabilize U.S.-Iran relations. The ultimate U.S. goal is to reduce entanglement in the Middle East and redirect strategic focus toward more pressing arenas like the Indo-Pacific.

Clearly, this inclination did not originate with Trump—it dates back to Obama’s presidency, during which the “Pivot to Asia” strategy and the 2015 Iran nuclear deal were launched. Ironically, it was Trump during his first term who unilaterally exited the nuclear agreement and resumed maximum pressure on Iran, culminating in the assassination of IRGC Quds Force Commander Qasem Soleimani in 2020, effectively dismantling Obama’s regional architecture.

Another key component of this pivot is the deepening engagement with Gulf states—especially in the semiconductor sector. This reflects not only U.S. retrenchment from the region and the strategic hedging it provokes, but also a new regional dynamic: Saudi Arabia and the UAE are now in competition to become AI leaders in the Middle East. Again, this trend predates Trump’s current term. The Obama administration already grappled with how to strategically exit the region without alienating Gulf allies, and talks of TSMC setting up in the UAE had already surfaced under the Biden administration.
Seen in this light, Trump’s “pivot” is less about him personally defying convention and more about the broader oscillations in U.S. foreign policy.

Washington hasn’t abandoned its commitment to Israel’s security; it is simply trying to preserve it through mechanisms more reminiscent of the Obama era. At the same time, courting the Gulf is not a contradictory move—the Gulf states have long been traditional U.S. allies. But even their prosperity, or the realization of an “Arab TSMC,” depends on one underlying condition: that Israel does not spiral into full-scale war with Iran.

Israel and Washington Hawks’ Pushback

Looking back at the past few months, it’s clear that the moderate faction in the U.S. has made multiple moves to try and foster a safer and less confrontational regional environment for both Israel and the Gulf. However, these efforts appear to have repeatedly provoked backlash from Israel and hawkish voices in Washington, eventually contributing to the shocking attack on June 13.

First, the push for a Gaza ceasefire. Given that Trump’s earlier proposals of “clearing out” and “taking over” had proven unworkable, the U.S. reverted to the Biden administration’s approach of de-escalation: urging all parties to agree to a ceasefire, resolve the relatively less contentious issue of hostages, and then try to roll the situation back to what it was before “Operation Al-Aqsa Flood”—without advancing a two-state solution, nor dealing directly with postwar governance issues like Hamas’s status or the future of Gaza. This meant that no fundamental change would take place. As a result, Israel resumed the war in March, and the U.S. was unable to stop it.

Next was the outreach to the new government in Syria. After Assad’s regime collapsed in December 2024, Iran lost a crucial hub in its “Axis of Resistance.” The U.S., aiming to fully push Iran and Russia out of Syria, began engaging with the new government led by Ahmed al-Sharaal. This included lifting sanctions during the May Middle East trip, holding a meeting with Sharaal in Saudi Arabia, and issuing a 180-day waiver for the Caesar Act on May 23. On May 29, the U.S. embassy residence in Damascus even raised the American flag—signaling that Syria was no longer on the list of “State Sponsors of Terrorism.”

In return, Sharaal actively intercepted weapons flowing from Syria to Lebanon and dismantled smuggling networks between Iraq and Syria to block Iran’s continued arming of Hezbollah. But Israel considered this insufficient. As early as December 2024, the IDF had taken advantage of the chaos to quickly invade southern Syria and establish a buffer zone. Even after the U.S. and Syria officially reconciled in May, Israel continued launching airstrikes on Syrian military facilities. Once again, Washington was powerless to intervene.

Then came the most crucial issue: Iran nuclear talks. In March, Trump publicly expressed his wish to restart negotiations. Iran, while initially noncommittal, didn’t outright reject the offer. The first round of U.S.-Iran talks took place in Oman on April 12, where the two sides outlined a three-step roadmap to an agreement:

1. Iran would temporarily reduce uranium enrichment to 3.67% in exchange for the unfreezing of its financial assets and permission to export oil;

2. Iran would permanently halt high-level uranium enrichment, resume inspections by the IAEA, and commit to the Additional Protocol, allowing for snap inspections of undeclared sites;

3. The U.S. Congress would approve the nuclear deal and lift both primary and secondary sanctions on Iran, while Iran would transfer its stockpile of highly enriched uranium to a third country.

But after the second round of talks in Rome, reports emerged of Israeli Air Force drills simulating missile strikes on Iran—clearly showing Israel’s strong opposition to the deal. The negotiations also stalled, primarily over the impasse regarding “zero enriched uranium.” On May 20, Khamenei publicly rejected the U.S. demand for zero enrichment—his first public comment since the April 12 talks. Trump then declared that he would not allow Iran to enrich any uranium at all.

By June, the standoff escalated further. On June 9, Iranian Foreign Ministry spokesperson Esmail Baghaei stated that Tehran would submit a counter proposal via Oman. Trump said he had spoken with Netanyahu about Iran and made “positive progress.” By June 12, media reports of an imminent Israeli attack were circulating widely—followed by the shocking strike on June 13.

In essence, it took less than two months for the U.S. to go from calling for negotiations to green-lighting Israeli action. While neither policy direction originated with Trump, this kind of dramatic shift clearly reflects the “unpredictability” of Trump himself—just like the “Liberation Day” tariff war that began in April. It reveals the kaleidoscopic nature of his administration’s decision-making: when Trump trusted the pro-engagement moderates from the Obama era, there were nuclear talks and the so-called Middle East “pivot.” But once talks deadlocked and Israel voiced discontent, he quickly reverted to his first-term hardline stance on Iran—letting Israel strike, while warning Tehran to “make a deal quickly.”

This also illustrates the deep complexity of the Iran nuclear issue and the Iran-Israel standoff. The nuclear problem is similar to the denuclearization dilemma on the Korean Peninsula: major powers and moderates inside Iran and North Korea want sanctions relief in exchange for limits on nuclear activity, but hardliners in both countries have entirely different agendas—they seek to maintain some nuclear capability while shedding sanctions. This turns all dialogue and agreements into temporary stopgaps.

As for the Iran-Israel confrontation, it has remained a persistent geopolitical problem ever since Iran successfully built a “Resistance Axis” linking Iraq, Syria, Lebanon, Yemen, and Gaza in the aftermath of the Arab Spring. Even after “Operation Al-Aqsa Flood,” despite Israel’s sweeping offensives and multiple battlefronts, the threat remains unresolved.

In Gaza, the IDF has been locked in prolonged fighting with Hamas and the Palestinian Islamic Jihad (PIJ), with two short-lived ceasefires failing to secure peace. Despite killing top Hamas leaders Haniyeh and Sinwar, and causing massive destruction and heavy casualties, Israel has not disarmed Hamas nor resolved the hostage issue.

In Iraq, the Iran-backed Islamic Resistance in Iraq (IRI) has continued to launch attacks on Israeli cities like Tel Aviv and Haifa since November 2023. While most drones and missiles were intercepted by Israeli and Jordanian forces, Iraq remains a vital springboard for Iran’s resistance network—both in personnel and arms.

In Lebanon, Hezbollah has been firing rockets into Israel’s northern region since the start of the “Al-Aqsa Flood.” Israel evacuated 100,000 residents in response. In September 2024, with the Gaza war dragging on, public pressure over the hostage issue mounting, and Netanyahu’s legal troubles worsening, Israel escalated its military actions against Hezbollah: it detonated thousands of pagers, assassinated leader Nasrallah, and invaded Lebanon in October. The conflict ended in a ceasefire a month later, but Israeli troops remain stationed in southern Lebanon, while Hezbollah has begun rebuilding its forces—both sides preparing for the next round.

Then there’s Yemen. The Houthis also began attacking Israel after “Operation Al-Aqsa Flood,” later expanding to the Red Sea, disrupting global shipping and pushing up freight rates. Despite the U.S.-led “Operation Prosperity Guardian,” Houthi threats persisted, and repeated airstrikes failed to stop them. Eventually, under Omani mediation, the U.S. and the Houthis reached a ceasefire on May 6, 2025—but Israel did not participate. In other words, Israeli territory is not protected under this agreement.

From Tel Aviv’s perspective, the “Resistance Axis” is like enriched uranium in Iran: as long as it isn’t reduced to zero, it remains a threat. This is the underlying logic behind Israel’s repeated obstruction of the U.S. “pivot”: it wants to lock in perpetual U.S.-Iran antagonism, keeping the U.S. as its security guarantor—until the Resistance Axis collapses and the clerical regime falls.

Can TSMC Break Ground in the Gulf?

Caught between the U.S., Iran, and Israel, the Gulf Arab states also face a geopolitical dilemma: how much longer can they stay safely on the sidelines?

Like Israel, the Gulf countries are surrounded by the “Axis of Resistance.” The “Iran threat” narrative was popular in the Gulf, and the Saudi-Iranian entanglement played out across multiple battlegrounds of the Arab Spring. In Syria, Saudi Arabia and the UAE supported anti-government forces, directly opposing Iran’s support for the Assad regime. In Yemen, Saudi Arabia even led a coalition against the Houthis, resulting in repeated attacks on its oil facilities. Even within the Gulf, the diplomatic crisis with Qatar starting in 2017 stemmed from Riyadh’s belief that Doha was too close to Iran.

But in the end, Riyadh effectively conceded defeat in this struggle. Saudi Arabia resumed ties with Qatar in 2021, broke the diplomatic ice with Syria, gradually pulled back its involvement in Yemen after 2022, and formally reestablished relations with Iran in 2023.

The key to this string of moves was the realization, against the backdrop of the U.S. withdrawal from the Middle East, that Riyadh could not win this geopolitical game. So it acquiesced to Iran’s expansion and redirected its focus from the collapsing fronts in Syria and Yemen to internal reforms like Vision 2030—watching from the sidelines as the dangerous entanglement between Israel, the U.S., and Iran played out.

However, with the outbreak of the Gaza war, the Gulf states have found it increasingly difficult to stay out of the conflict, delicately balancing their position. Although Saudi Arabia and others have repeatedly assured Iran that they would not assist Israel, when Iran launched missiles at Israel in April 2024, Saudi Arabia and the UAE quietly provided Israel with intelligence—effectively playing a role not so different from Jordan, which openly helped intercept the attacks.

Saudi Arabia and its neighbors had their own considerations. Their intelligence sharing was less about helping Israel and more about preventing a full-scale Iran-Israel war. As mentioned earlier, the Gulf states are all actively promoting economic transformation and preparing for a post-oil era. This transformation depends on the accumulation of oil revenues. If war breaks out between Iran and Israel, Tehran could disrupt the Strait of Hormuz, affecting the Gulf’s oil export supply chain. Oil facilities in the region could also be targeted, no matter which side the missiles come from. That’s why after the Israeli strike in June 2025, the Gulf Cooperation Council promptly condemned Israel and urged all sides to de-escalate.

Among these countries, Saudi Arabia and the UAE are particularly anxious. They are not only the most active in industrial transformation among Gulf states, but also direct competitors in the race to become the “Middle East AI hub.”

In December 2024, I published an article titled “Middle East AI Rivalry: Saudi Arabia vs. UAE—With the U.S. and China Involved”, analyzing both countries’ approaches and progress. As wealthy oil exporters, both have the motivation to move beyond rentier economics, the financial resources to do so, and now the emerging opportunities in AI. Naturally, their competition is heating up. But great power rivalry has also made China and the U.S. key players in this AI race: Washington hopes to sever as many China-linked ties as possible, while Beijing seeks deeper integration.

The saga of the “Arab TSMC” exemplifies this struggle. In September 2024, The Wall Street Journal reported that the UAE was in talks with TSMC and Samsung about building a chip plant. But the U.S. feared that “advanced AI chips might end up in China via the UAE,” and pushed for oversight mechanisms before any deal was finalized. Even without U.S. opposition, setting up a fab in the UAE faces many hurdles, such as securing ultra-pure water and attracting professional talent.

For the UAE, however, hosting TSMC would not only ensure a more stable chip supply, but also further integrate its local talent and tech firms into the global supply chain—marking a shift from consumers of technology to producers. It would push the UAE even further ahead of Saudi Arabia.

If Bloomberg’s exclusive in May is accurate, the Trump administration may have shifted the Biden-era mindset: instead of blocking TSMC from setting up shop in the UAE, Washington might actively support it as part of its broader strategy to court the Emirates. That would bring the U.S. closer to the UAE and also reinforce its own role in the Gulf’s semiconductor supply chain.

But as noted earlier, like the Gulf’s broader industrial transition, this plan rests on a precondition: Israel and Iran must not plunge into full-scale war.

We’ve already seen a similar calculus in East Asia. Given recent tensions in the Taiwan Strait, Washington has pushed TSMC harder to invest in the U.S. What was once framed as a “silicon shield” has now morphed into a “silicon hostage” situation. Likewise, if the Gulf is constantly at risk of war, TSMC building a plant in the UAE would be considered an unsafe investment—no one would move forward.

This brings us back to the Trump administration’s original Middle East “pivot” strategy: de-escalating the Israel-Iran confrontation would minimize the war risks in the Gulf, thus making it easier for TSMC to set up shop there. But this interconnected strategic architecture has clearly been disrupted by Israel and Washington’s hawks.

Of course, pushing TSMC to the Gulf is only one of Washington’s bargaining chips. But Israeli missiles have done more than jeopardize the chip plant—they’ve also undermined America’s broader Middle East strategy. That includes the potential revival of the Iran nuclear deal and a possible thaw in U.S.-Iran relations. Ironically, the uncertainty that once gave Washington a chance to revisit Obama-era Middle East policies under Trump is now the same uncertainty that has—after a long detour—blown everything back to square one.

Editor: LQQ