By Michael Cohen — via Substack
There are certain movies that stick with you because the ending is so absurdly destructive that you almost forget how funny the journey was. The War of the Roses is one of them. Kathleen Turner. Michael Douglas. A marriage that begins with champagne and ends with two people literally destroying everything they own because neither is willing to blink.
If I had to describe the diplomatic relationship between the United States and Iran over the last several days, that’s the movie I’d choose.
Except instead of a chandelier crashing to the floor, we’re talking about ballistic missiles.
Instead of lawyers billing by the hour, we have generals calculating flight times.
And instead of a mansion collapsing around a divorcing couple, we have an entire region balanced on the edge of a gasoline-soaked matchbook.
The latest reports say Washington and Tehran have agreed to “stand down” after their latest exchange of military strikes. Commercial vessels can once again move through the Strait of Hormuz. Negotiations are supposedly back on. Everybody is congratulating themselves for avoiding a wider war.
Wonderful.
Forgive me if I don’t pop the champagne.
Because if the last decade has taught us anything, it’s that “stand down” in the Middle East usually means everyone is simply reloading.
Think about how we got here.
Only days ago, cargo ships were taking fire in one of the most strategically important waterways on Earth. American forces retaliated. Iran answered with strikes aimed at U.S. installations. Israel continues targeting Hezbollah infrastructure in Lebanon while Hezbollah promises it isn’t finished. Iran insists Lebanon must calm down before any broader peace can hold. Hezbollah says the peace agreement is illegitimate.
Somewhere in the middle of all this diplomatic chaos sits a fourteen-point Memorandum of Understanding that sounds remarkably like the kind of marriage counseling agreement signed by a couple already shopping for divorce attorneys.
“I’ll stop yelling if you stop yelling.”
“I’ll stop throwing plates if you stop throwing chairs.”
“You have my word.”
“I’d rather have insurance.”
The problem isn’t that nobody wants peace.
The problem is that everyone wants peace on their own terms.
History has never been especially accommodating to that kind of thinking.
The Strait of Hormuz isn’t simply another patch of water. It’s the world’s economic pressure valve. Every tanker that squeezes through those narrow waters carries more than oil. It carries inflation. Energy prices. Retirement accounts. Grocery bills. Airline tickets. Manufacturing costs.
Americans have this remarkable ability to believe wars stay overseas.
Tell that to your gas pump.
Tell that to your grocery receipt.
Tell that to the trucking company wondering why diesel suddenly costs another dollar.
Global conflicts have a funny way of becoming local headaches.
Just ask anyone who’s paid for hamburgers lately.
Meanwhile, Washington keeps performing diplomatic gymnastics worthy of an Olympic gold medal. One day we’re bombing military targets. The next day we’re mediating peace agreements. Forty-eight hours later, Israeli forces are blowing up a two hundred meter Hezbollah weapons tunnel after notifying the United States in advance.
That’s not diplomacy.
That’s not foreign policy. That’s geopolitical couples therapy with airstrikes.
And here’s the uncomfortable truth that neither political party enjoys admitting.
Military deterrence works…until it doesn’t.
Diplomacy works…until someone decides it doesn’t.
Ceasefires last exactly as long as the next commander decides they’re inconvenient.
That’s why these announcements should always come with an expiration date printed in tiny letters across the bottom.
“Peace…until further notice.”
What worries me isn’t today’s ceasefire.
It’s tomorrow’s overconfidence.
One politician declaring victory too early.
One general deciding patience is weakness.
One phone call that never gets answered.
One ego refusing to be the last one standing.
Wars rarely explode because everyone planned for them.
More often they stumble into existence through arrogance, miscalculation, wounded pride, and leaders convinced they’re still in control long after control has disappeared.
I’ve watched enough powerful people convince themselves they’re playing three-dimensional chess when they’re actually setting fire to the board.
Trust me. Delusion isn’t limited to one country.
Nor one political ideology.
Nor one government.
It’s a universal affliction among people surrounded by advisers too frightened to deliver bad news.
That’s why comparing this standoff to The War of the Roses isn’t simply a clever movie reference.
It’s a warning.
That film wasn’t really about hatred.
It was about escalation.
Every insult demanded a bigger insult.
Every act of revenge required an even larger act of revenge.
Eventually, nobody remembered who started the fight.
They only remembered finishing it.
Sound familiar?
Today’s headlines tell us America and Iran have agreed to stand down.
I genuinely hope they do.
The world desperately needs fewer missiles and more adults.
But experience has taught me something that years inside Trump’s orbit permanently engraved into my brain.
Never confuse a pause with peace.
Sometimes silence isn’t resolution.
Sometimes it’s simply everyone catching their breath before the next round begins.
And if this geopolitical marriage continues following the script of The War of the Roses, we already know how the movie ends.
The only difference is that this time, the house collapsing isn’t a Hollywood set.
It’s the global economy.
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