Chapter 777: For the Cornerstone of the Empire

“This is a controllable war,” Roosevelt said. “Intelligence shows it already possesses the capability to produce enough weapons-grade uranium to build five to six nuclear bombs in less than two weeks.

“Its nuclear program provides the perfect political excuse to strike right now.

“Internationally, it has virtually no true protectors. Russia is bogged down in the Ukrainian quagmire and can barely fend for itself. The Eastern Power might buy its oil, but it would never go to war with the United States over it. Striking it carries extremely low diplomatic risks.”

Roosevelt paused for a moment, allowing Leo to digest this information.

“Furthermore, there is a much deeper reason,” he continued. “Iran is facing its largest anti-government protests since the 1979 Islamic Revolution.

“Its currency has collapsed, and inflation is skyrocketing. Starting with the strikes at the Grand Bazaar in Tehran, the fury has rapidly spread across all thirty-one provinces. The subsequent crackdown by security forces has resulted in thousands of deaths.

“This bloody suppression hands the United States the most flawless moral cloak for military intervention. Listen to this narrative, Leo. Doesn’t it sound familiar?

“In 1898, we said we were going to liberate the Cubans and drive out Spanish tyranny.

“In 1953, we said we were going to liberate the Iranians and overthrow Mosaddegh.

“In 2003, we said we were going to liberate the Iraqis.

“Now, it’s their turn again.

“History is just a matter of copy and paste. As long as we drop bombs there, we can claim it’s to support the Iranian people’s struggle for freedom, which will shut up the liberal voters as well.

“Finally, and most crucially…” Roosevelt’s voice turned absolutely ruthless. “The US Dollar.

“In recent years, Iran has publicly sold oil in yuan and euros, challenging the pricing monopoly of the US Dollar. More importantly, if the Iranian nuclear program succeeds, a nuclear-armed Iran will possess the power to tear a permanent hole in the petrodollar system.

“Because no nation would dare sanction the oil exports of a nuclear power.

“Therefore, Washington isn’t trying to punish Iran. Washington wants to use a war—a display of absolute military might—to ensure that on this planet, only the United States’ hand gets to touch the switch to that oil valve. This is a war to safeguard the very cornerstone of the Empire.”

Listening to Roosevelt’s analysis, Leo stared at the map at that seemingly distant yet inextricably linked strait.

Geopolitics, energy hegemony, financial order, and domestic elections—all these factors converged at this very moment, pointing toward a single destination: war.

“Let’s look at what the President is facing,” Roosevelt said, speaking with the authority of someone who had been there before. “The think tanks surrounding the President—those strategists from Ivy League schools whose heads are filled with grand strategies—must be painting a grandiose picture for him right now.

“They will tell the President: ‘Sir, this is a chance to rewrite history.’ If they can inflict heavy damage on that Middle Eastern power—that theocracy entrenched on the North Shore of the Persian Gulf that has plagued the United States for forty years… Think about the consequences.”

Roosevelt’s voice lowered. “Israel’s security pressure would plummet, and that Jewish Lobbying Group that’s always been a headache for Washington would elevate him to godhood.

“The pro-American royal regimes in the Gulf region, driven by fear and gratitude, would cling even more desperately to the United States. The hegemony of the petrodollar would be fortified once again.

“More importantly…” Roosevelt paused briefly. “…this is a chance to flex some muscle.

“After the withdrawal from Afghanistan and facing various accusations of diplomatic weakness, the President desperately needs to prove to allies in Europe and Asia that the United States of America remains the only hegemon on this planet capable of flipping the table and controlling the situation. He wants to tell the world: I alone can maintain order. Or, I alone can manufacture chaos.”

As Leo listened, his fingers unconsciously tightened around the armrest of the sofa.

This imperial illusion was an irresistible temptation for anyone sitting in the White House.

“Now let’s look at the domestic political level,” Roosevelt continued. “Aside from the rally-’round-the-flag effect and the diversion of class conflict I just told you about, the current President might have an even more personal motive: his historical legacy.

“Everyone who walks into the Oval Office contracts a disease. I call it Legacy Syndrome. They are terrified of being forgotten, of becoming some mediocre transitional figure with no real accomplishments. As the President’s first term draws to a close, he has nothing decent to show for it except inflation and division.

“So, he wants to make a massive gamble. He wants to be the strongman who settles forty years of Middle East antagonism once and for all. He wants to be the terminator.”

Roosevelt let out a heavy sigh. “This overwhelming urge to solidify one’s place in history is a poison that no president nearing the end of their term or facing a reelection crisis can resist.

“For this illusory reputation, he is willing to wager the national treasury, the lives of soldiers, and even global stability. This is the arrogance of power.”

“So, he’s dead set on going to war,” Leo said softly.

“Yes, dead set,” Roosevelt confirmed. “In the face of such absolute resolve, the Foreign Investment Committee’s investigation is merely an appetizer.

“They will use every means necessary to ensure that the domestic energy supply is entirely subjugated to this war. In their eyes, your Energy Administration Bureau is just an obstacle that must be cleared away.”

“Sounds like a foolproof bet for the White House?” Leo leaned back against the sofa, rubbing his throbbing temples. Roosevelt’s analysis felt like an insurmountable mountain pressing down on his chest.

“If the President can secure a ticket to reelection and the laurels of history just by pressing a button, then aren’t we completely powerless to fight back? In the face of this colossal logic of war, my nuclear power plant and my Computing Power Special Zone are like a pebble trying to stop a steamroller.”

“Wrong.” Roosevelt interrupted Leo’s self-doubt. “Leo, you’ve made a mistake.

“Do you think they are omniscient strategic masterminds? Do you think the battle plan in their hands is a script written by God?”

Roosevelt let out a cold sneer. “That’s an illusion. War never goes according to script.”