U.S. President Donald Trump expressed his frustration with Israel and Iran saying, "They don't know what the F*** they are doing" after reports of ceasefire violations on both sides. The President was boarding his helicopter to start a trip to the NATO Summit in the Netherlands on June 24, 2025. Credit: Francis Chung - Pool Via Cnp/CNP/ZUMA

-Analysis-

BERLIN — Was the U.S. attack on Iran justified? The public wants guidance, an opinion. People expect clear answers. And we journalists deliver them. Some say yes, the bombing was right. Others say no, it was wrong. In doing so, we meet a real need. We do our job. And yet, there’s something deeply unsettling about how quickly those neat answers are offered.

For the latest news & views from every corner of the world, Worldcrunch Today is the only truly international newsletter. Sign up here.

Yesterday we couldn’t tell a howitzer from a cannon, a battle tank from an infantry vehicle. Today, we act like seasoned generals, surveying the scorched earth of the Middle East, confidently commentating as American stealth bombers drop bunker-busters on Iranian nuclear sites.

Our voices drop into deep, authoritative tones as we declare that only the U.S. military could pull this off. There’s something awestruck in the way we talk about that power, even though it’s wielded by a man whose unpredictability we have every reason to fear.

And yet, we know almost nothing.

We don’t know how much damage was actually done to Iran’s nuclear sites. According to the Pentagon, they weren’t completely destroyed, no matter what Donald Trump claims. We don’t know whether they’re still operational, whether Iran can still build a bomb. We don’t know how the regime will respond, whether it will strike back with enough force to throw the whole region into chaos. We don’t know how the Iranian people will react to the events.
We don’t know, we don’t know, we don’t know.

It’s best to admit this ignorance now, because it pushes us to be humble, cautious, and careful.

It’s best to admit this ignorance now, because it pushes us to be humble, cautious and careful. That’s not to say we shouldn’t have opinions. On the contrary, it’s about being truthful. And truth means also showing how little information we actually have right now, and how quickly some in the press have already taken sides.

There’s a danger we’ll turn into cheerleaders, applauding our team without remembering that war isn’t a game. It’s more complex, and of course far more lethal than any sport. That’s why we should resist the pull of easy slogans, and instead look clearly at all the victims, on every side.

Saddam Hussein speaking to a journalist during his first visit to France in 1972. – Source: Wikimedia Commons

We should also remember that war often forces people to do things they would never choose to do, like my Iranian friend Ahmad. He left for Japan in 1980 to study, just after Ayatollah Khomeini had declared the Islamic Republic. Ahmad is an atheist, a believer in science and the European Enlightenment, and a fierce opponent of the mullahs.

That same year, Saddam Hussein invaded Iran, encouraged and supplied by the United States. He thought it would be a quick win. The Islamists weren’t firmly in power yet. There was strong opposition. The plan was that the regime would crumble under pressure. That’s what Saddam and Washington were banking on.

Contradictions of war

As the war began, Ahmad came back from Japan. He crossed into Pakistan, where the border guards asked him where he was heading. “Home,” he said. They asked if he was out of his mind, going back into a war zone. “Exactly,” he answered, “I’m going home to defend my country.”

Ahmad fought for eight years. By the time the war ended in 1988, more than a million soldiers were dead. Iraq had used chemical weapons, killing thousands and leaving many more permanently disabled.

Even in the chaos, there are things we can hold on to.

These horrors are etched into Iran’s national memory. The war allowed the Islamic regime to crush the opposition and tighten its grip on power. Still, Ahmad stayed in Iran. To this day, he despises the regime. And still, he loves his country more than anything. That kind of contradiction is what war creates.

Of course, even in the middle of this chaos, there are things we can hold on to. For instance, we should face the fact that in recent weeks, Trump used the U.S. military against his own citizens to suppress democratic protests.

U.S President Donald Trump performing a dance in front of a Reaper Drone at Al Udeid Air Base in Doha, Qatar, on May 15, 2025. – Source: Daniel Torok/White House/Planet Pix/ZUMA

Tell the truth

It’s safe to say America’s leader didn’t bomb Iran’s nuclear sites out of any deep desire to spread democracy. If the regime does fall, it’s unlikely he’ll use the moment to strengthen any liberal order. The attack has domestic political advantages for him. Should Iran retaliate with terrorist attacks, Trump could use the crisis to crack down on his opposition at home. After all, he’s already called them an “internal enemy” that must be defeated to save the country.

And Benjamin Netanyahu? He’s not exactly campaigning to bring democracy to Iran either. While he talks about the freedom Iranians might now win, many Israelis fear what his actions mean for their own rights.

Back in July 2023, his government passed a law that severely limited the Supreme Court’s authority. This sparked massive protests, with hundreds of thousands marching in the streets. Critics saw the move as an assault on Israeli democracy.

The war was going at Trump’s pace: contradictory, chaotic, breathless

Meanwhile, the Israeli military bombed Tehran’s infamous Evin Prison, where those who stand up to the mullahs are tortured and executed. Now, those same dissidents are being killed by the bombs of the very people who claim to be their liberators. Maybe it was meant as a symbolic attack on the regime. But no one escapes from a bombed prison. More likely, the prisoners are dead.

It’s been clear from the beginning that this war was going at Trump’s pace: contradictory, chaotic, breathless. One moment he’s launching strikes, the next he’s declaring a ceasefire. At this speed, facts and propaganda blur into a single, surreal Trumpian alternate reality. We journalists should be the ones to cut through that fog. Just not instantly. Not while the smoke is still rising. Better to take a breath, wait a moment, and then tell the truth.

Translated and Adapted by: