he United States and Iran are weaponising rhetoric in the current Middle East crisis. Interestingly, recent developments in the war have shown timeless patterns in the ways societies at war justify and conceptualise conflict. Both sides see the war as a moral campaign, each sees the other as irrational and operating well beyond the bounds of reason. The US named its invasion Operation Epic. The name was apparently meant to foreshadow what was to follow. No wonder the US forces attacked without restraint, showing no regard for the law of war or civilian lives.

Inevitably, peace talks followed. However, before long, the US president, Donald Trump, revived the threat of military escalation by posting an AI-generated image with the caption: “It was the calm before the storm.” The caption and the image, which shows Trump alongside a US Navy admiral in turbulent waters, sparked concerns about an already fragile ceasefire. What did this mean for the ceasefire, people everywhere in the world wondered. It triggered speculation that Washington could resume airstrikes if Tehran refused to agree to its terms for a peace deal?

Trump had earlier posted, “A whole civilisation will die tonight, never to be brought back again.” In another post, he had said, “There won’t be anything left of them.” As if this weren’t enough, Secretary Pete Hegseth had added, “The United States is going to negotiate with bombs.” Hegseth didn’t say strategy, diplomacy, or leadership but, rather, bombs. Statements and social media posts of several US leaders and government officials painted the Iranian leaderships variously as despotic and incompetent. The narrative was apparently designed to deny them peer-level respect and agency. They were portrayed as an entity to be “removed” rather than negotiated with.

The response from Tehran was nothing short of epic. Iran’s new supreme leader threatened US with “the bitter taste of new defeats.” IRGC Commander, Ahmad Vahidi, warned that any further aggression against the Iranian soil “will erupt into flames and transcend every border and domain… you will receive devastating blows that will leave you in absolute defeat.”

There was no hint of an intent to de-escalate. Instead, the statements echoed a determination to resist aggression by any means necessary. When negotiations stalled, Tehran treaded with caution, pointing out that there was a deep trust deficit. It said this tended to slow the negotiations with Washington. Iran then went on to propose a new mechanism to manage maritime traffic around and through the Strait of Hormuz while restricting passage for the forces linked to Project Freedom, the US war project aimed at reopening of the Strait of Hormuz.

Trump posted: “A whole civilisation will die tonight, never to be brought back again.” Another post said, “There won’t be anything left of them.” As if this weren’t enough, the Secretary Pete Hegseth added, “The United States is going to negotiate with bombs.”

Some media houses in the West sought to understate or explain away US and Israeli war crimes with the use of a peculiar vocabulary frequently using phrases like “precision strikes,” “deterrence,” “counter-terrorism” and “rules of engagement.” The rhetoric of retribution and absolute justification makes it possible for both sides to use virality and social media trolling to win public opinion. Leadership figures like Hegseth have spoken of war primarily as a test of masculine fortitude. He has claimed that “crazy regimes like Iran, hell-bent on… delusions, cannot have nuclear weapons. It is common sense… many have said it, but it takes guts to actually enforce it. And our president has guts.” He added that America had not started the war, but under President Trump, they were ‘finishing’ it.

Historically, similar rhetoric, framing the enemy as ridiculously incompetent or less human, was used to justify colonialism. So, how does a scholar relate to such exchanges? Perhaps it should remind us of Caliban in Shakespeare’s The Tempest when he says: “You taught me language and my profit on it is that I know how to curse.” It seems that the US and Iran have the same playbook. Their rhetoric isn’t new or unique. Parallels with The Iliad abound. First, there is the broken myth in both situations. In The Iliad, Achilles was believed to be a demi-god. He performed feats beyond ordinary human capability. Hence, his threats carried a lot of weight. Towards the end of the siege of Troy, Achilles vowed to spare “not even a boy child.” His words made him sound like a symbol of death. Agamemnon gave false-choice ultimatums and performative binaries to assure the commitment of his soldiers. However, the prophecy about his death could be likened to Tehran’s demystification of the US hegemony.

Second, both sides frame the conflict as a moral campaign. America initially claimed to be fighting to free Iranians from their own government. Iranian leaders have said they are fighting for freedom from foreign interference, for their land and for their people. In The Iliad, Hector wasn’t fighting for pride; he fought only for his city, his people and his family. Achilles fought not for honour but on account of grief that morphed to uncontrollable rage for vengeance.

Recent developments in the US-Iran war thus reveal timeless patterns in the way societies at war justify and conceptualise conflict. We are persuaded to agree with Major General Smedley D Butler who wrote that war is a racket whose costs are calculated in human lives.

The writer is a postdoctoral fellow at the Institute of Islamic Research (IRI), International Islamic University Islamabad.He is an associate professor at the Department of English, University of Lahore. [email protected]