Here we go again. Donald Trump has just bombed Kharg Island and threatens to "wipe out Iranian oil infrastructure" if Tehran maintains its blockade of the Strait of Hormuz. Meanwhile, the American embassy in Baghdad has endured its second assault since this crisis began. And the American president declares, with his characteristic nonchalance: "We can't say how long the war will last, it will last as long as necessary."

Necessary for what, exactly? To explode oil prices? To turn the Persian Gulf into an inferno? Or simply to feed this Trumpian addiction to controlled chaos that passes for foreign policy?

Make no mistake: this escalation bears no resemblance to thoughtful strategy. It carries all the hallmarks of presidential improvisation where geopolitics conjugates with morning moods and polling numbers. When Trump threatens to "wipe out" Kharg's oil installations—which represent 90% of Iranian exports according to the New York Times—he's not calculating consequences. He's performing.

Kharg Island isn't just any military target. It's the nerve center of Iran's economy, but also an essential cog in global energy supply. Destroying it would amount to amputating Iran of its primary source of foreign currency while depriving Europe and Asia of a significant portion of their imports. But Trump doesn't care: he's playing Risk with real consequences.

This casualness reveals a fascinating paradox of the Trump era. Here's a president who claims to defend American economic interests while methodically sabotaging energy market stability. After all, who really benefits from this escalation? Certainly not American consumers who will see their gas bills soar. Not European allies either, already weakened by their energy dependence. No, the only winners in this poker game are speculators and American shale oil producers watching their margins explode.

Iran, for its part, plays its hand with consummate skill. By blocking the Strait of Hormuz—through which 20% of global oil transits according to the Deccan Herald—Tehran transforms its military weakness into an economic weapon. The mullah regime knows perfectly well it cannot rival American firepower. But it can paralyze the global economy by closing this strategic chokepoint.

And while Trump tweets his threats and Iran tightens its grip on the strait, the entire regional security architecture crumbles. The attack on the American embassy in Baghdad isn't an isolated incident: it illustrates how this crisis is spreading throughout the Middle East. Iraq, already weakened by decades of instability, finds itself caught between its American ally and Iranian neighbor.

But the most troubling aspect of this escalation is its profoundly personal character. Trump isn't waging war to defend clearly defined American strategic interests. He's waging HIS war, the one that must prove he's stronger, more unpredictable, more of a "dealmaker" than his predecessors. This personalization of foreign policy transforms every international crisis into presidential psychodrama.

The consequences of this approach extend far beyond the Persian Gulf. By treating Iran as an adversary to humiliate rather than a problem to solve, Trump sabotages any possibility of diplomatic de-escalation. Worse: he legitimizes in advance all Iranian retaliation, creating a spiral of violence whose outcome nobody controls.

This is precisely the trap of chaos strategy: it works as long as your adversary agrees to play by your rules. But what happens when Iran decides to strike elsewhere? When it activates its proxy networks in Lebanon, Syria, or Yemen? When it cyber-attacks American infrastructure? Will Trump still want to play when the consequences of his bluster directly hit American territory?

This crisis above all reveals the dramatic infantilization of American public debate. While their president transforms a complex geopolitical question into personal soap opera, American citizens are reduced to the role of powerless spectators of an escalation they didn't choose and whose price they'll pay.

Trump is replaying the Gulf War, but with digital-age codes: everything, immediately, without nuance or long-term strategy. The problem is that missiles aren't virtual.