From burning Sardis to bombing Tehran: What Rubio got wrong about Persia

Tehran Times speaks with Touraj Daryaee, historian of ancient Iran and editor of encyclopaedia Iranica

TEHRAN – U.S. Secretary of State Marco Rubio’s October 7 speech in Athens invoked ancient Greece as the foundation of Western civilization, linking the Persian invasion under Xerxes in 480 BCE to a broader call for Western ambition, national sovereignty and renewed American power. Speaking at the historic Pnyx, Rubio also criticized Iran’s leadership, contrasting his portrayal of Western heroism with what he described as Iran’s “cult of death.” 

In this interview with the Tehran Times, Touraj Daryaee, historian of ancient Iran and editor of Encyclopaedia Iranica, challenges Rubio’s historical narrative and examines its political implications.

The following is the text of the interview:

 You noted that the Athenians helped burn Sardis, an important Achaemenid administrative center, in 489 BCE, before Xerxes invaded Greece in 480 BCE. How does this episode change our understanding of the history Rubio presents?
I think the entire premise of Secretary Rubio’s speech is false. This was not a battle between East and West, but rather a conflict between a world empire spanning three continents and a number of Greek city-states on the other side of the sea. From this perspective, the entire premise is wrong.
However, the Athenians and their allies did come in 489 BCE and burn the center of the Lydian satrapy of the Persian Empire. They set it on fire, looted it, and completely destroyed it, along with the Temple of Cybele. An empire obviously does not sit still in response to such an attack; it has to take revenge. The burning of the Acropolis in 480 BCE was, in effect, retaliation for what had happened nine years earlier.
 

Rubio cites figures such as Alexander the Great, Julius Caesar and Hernán Cortés as symbols of ambition and expanding power. What does this reveal about his definition of Western civilization?

Empires do what they do when they have the power to do so. Of course, the nature of empires differs. In antiquity, we see figures who sought to conquer the world, such as Alexander the Great and Julius Caesar.

I think Hernán Cortés was a different kind of figure. He belongs to the early modern period, when Europeans systematically set out to plunder the American, African and Asian continents, enrich themselves, enslave people to provide free labor, and build a capitalist economy. Their economy advanced beyond those of other continents partly because their natural resources had been taken.

This was different from the campaigns of Alexander or Julius Caesar, which sought to bring glory to Greece and Rome.

 Rubio delivered his speech at the Pnyx, where ancient Athenians gathered for their democratic assembly. Why did he choose this historic site, and what message does it convey?

Rubio smartly chose this location because the United States is engaged in a war with Iran. By going to Greece, he can effectively say, “Look, the Iranians were doing the same thing 2,500 years ago,” as if nothing has changed. He is trying to use history as an ideological tactic against Iran and, more broadly, against those on the other side of the current conflict.

It is a perfect spot if you want to invoke history, but I think he is doing so in an awkward way. In Iran, we do not go to Persepolis and say, “Alexander burned Persepolis, and that is why the Americans want to do the same.”

Rubio traces Western civilization from ancient Greece and Rome through Christianity and Europe to the United States. How accurate is this narrative, and what does it overlook about cultural exchanges between Persia, Greece and other ancient civilizations?

Mr. Rubio is really reaching for the stars here. The idea that the United States, represented by Mr. Rubio, whose family comes from Cuba, is an inheritor of Western civilization is not entirely accurate.

In fact, the idea that the West’s heritage is directly connected to Greece is a relatively recent phenomenon, dating back only two or three centuries. A bridge was constructed between antiquity and the modern age, bypassing much of what happened in the medieval world and overlooking important historical developments. This is, indeed, a fallacy.

Greece and Iran, by contrast, have had extensive contact with one another. They have borrowed from each other and share many similarities in their traditions, from antiquity to the present day. The United States and Germany, by comparison, are far removed from what Greece was and is.

He opens with the Achaemenid invasion of Athens and later criticizes Iran’s current leadership. Is this a deliberate link between ancient Persia and modern Iran, or would that interpretation go beyond his speech?

Yes, absolutely. Secretary Rubio is trying to link the past to the present, however false that connection may be. He is essentially saying, “Look at what is happening in our dealings with Iran, and what we are doing against Iran. This is what you had to face in 480 BCE.”

The fallacy here is that the United States has military bases throughout the Middle East. It is the United States and Israel that have bombed Iran. Iranians have not gone to Europe or the United States to wage war against Europeans or Americans.

You have highlighted Western interventions in the East over the past two centuries. Which historical events best illustrate the gap between the West’s image as a defender of freedom and its record of foreign intervention?

I think Rubio had several things in mind. One was to argue that the West should not apologize for its past. However, while talking about Greece as a great civilization, he did not address the experiences of people around the world over the past two or three centuries: people whose countries have been attacked, whose communities have been bombed and looted, and whose populations have been enslaved.

These actions helped build Western nations, particularly the United States, into what they are today. To ignore this history is quite dishonest.

The U.S. Secretary of State delivered this speech amid the war involving the United States and Iran. How should this context shape our reading of his references to ancient Persia and Western civilization?

The context is that the United States and the West have been in conflict with Iran, a power that acted as a superpower in Asia and the East, for what Rubio presents as an enduring historical struggle spanning millennia.

This is how he has framed the issue to make his argument more persuasive. He is doing so in Athens, beside the Acropolis, to drive home his point.

Rubio used ancient history to frame his vision of Western civilization and American power. Is he seeking to establish a distinct political doctrine of his own and lay the groundwork for a potential 2028 presidential campaign?

I think his speech generally went over well with a European audience concerned about immigration and changes in the demographic and religious composition of both Europe and the United States.

His central message is that Western civilization is a noble civilization that made the West a superpower. He presents it as an enduring, unchanging civilization with a history stretching back thousands of years.

What he does not describe is what this civilization has done to the rest of the world over the past two or three centuries in order to reach its current position.

No one is against Western civilization, but we should always remain mindful of the atrocities that have also been committed. You cannot vindicate yourself before history simply by standing beside an ancient monument such as the Acropolis to make your point. 

Tags

• Marco Rubio
• Iran
• U.S.
• Touraj Daryaee
• ancient Greece

After the invasion: Who really took Iraq’s oil?

The US-led war pried open Iraq’s energy sector, but the oil order that followed did not unfold as its architects expected. Chinese firms now occupy much of the ground western majors abandoned.    

Hussein Askary

The Cradle 

It is often said, almost as a matter of common sense, that the US and Britain invaded Iraq in 2003 to seize the country’s oil. 

The charge carries political force. Iraq possesses some of the world’s largest conventional reserves; oil companies from the invading states entered after the occupation; and the war was followed by a sweeping reorganization of the Iraqi state and economy. 

Yet the identity of the companies now most active in Iraq’s fields complicates that slogan. If the aim was simply to hand Iraqi oil to US and British firms, the result is strikingly paradoxical: Chinese companies now hold a commanding position in the upstream sector.

The fact check does not exonerate the invasion, nor does it remove oil from the story – nor should the oil motive be treated as the only motive. One key motive is that the US and Britain used the Iraq War to assert a new Anglo-American doctrine above the UN Charter-based, Westphalian system of sovereign and independent nations. 

At a moment when Russia was still weakened by the post-Soviet collapse, and China had not yet become the formidable power it is today, the invasion served notice that Anglo-American power, rather than international law, intended to arbitrate world affairs.

That domination also took a financial form. Executive Order 13303, issued in May 2003 and renewed by successive US administrations, protected Iraqi petroleum proceeds from attachment in US courts. The original Development Fund for Iraq (DFI) ended in 2011, but Iraqi oil revenues still flow into a Central Bank of Iraq account at the Federal Reserve Bank of New York, giving Washington leverage over Baghdad’s access to dollars. 

A Reuters investigation published in January 2026 described this as effective US control over a critical choke point in Iraqi state finance. The arrangement is not the same as corporate ownership of the oil, but it exposes the political economy behind the occupation more clearly than a simple tale of physical plunder.

The contract Iraq kept

One obstacle facing foreign majors was constitutional and contractual. Article 111 of Iraq’s constitution declares oil and gas the property of all Iraqi people. In federal Iraq, development has largely proceeded through technical service contracts (TSCs).

The state retains ownership of reserves while foreign companies provide exploration, drilling, engineering, management, and operating services in return for cost recovery and a remuneration fee. 

This differs from the production-sharing contracts favored by many private firms and used by the Kurdistan Regional Government (KRG), under which contractors gain more direct exposure to production revenues and potential upside.

Shell, ExxonMobil, and BP became prominent in post-2003 Iraq, but tight fees, payment disputes, security risks, bureaucracy, and infrastructure bottlenecks made federal fields less attractive than other assets in their portfolios. 

Shell left Majnoon in 2018, transferring operations to the state-run Basra Oil Company. ExxonMobil exited West Qurna-1 and handed the lead-contractor role to PetroChina at the start of 2024. BP and PetroChina, meanwhile, transferred their interests in Rumaila to Basra Energy Company Limited in 2022.

Rumaila is the clearest example. BP became the leading western name associated with the field, one of Iraq’s largest and most important producing assets. Yet the operational reality includes extensive Chinese participation. Basra Energy Company, the field company, reflects the BP–PetroChina partnership. 

China Petroleum Engineering and Construction Corporation won engineering, procurement, construction and commissioning work for crude-oil processing facilities. CNPC Daqing Drilling Engineering has been associated with drilling and EPC work. In other words, a flagship British-linked oil project in Iraq depends heavily on Chinese technical execution.

Majnoon tells a similar story in a different sequence. Shell was the lead operator before exiting. After the western major stepped away, publicly available project information identifies Chinese EPC and oilfield firms such as China Petroleum Engineering, China National Petroleum and Hebei Huabei Petroleum Engineering Construction as contractors involved in development activity. 

The point is not that Shell directly handed every task to a Chinese company. It is that the western major did not stay to dominate the field over the long run, while Chinese engineering and service capacity became an important part of the work needed to keep Iraqi oil development moving.

West Qurna-1 is more symbolic still. ExxonMobil, the emblematic US major, once served as lead contractor. By 2024 PetroChina had taken its place. This was not a Chinese subcontractor operating beneath an American giant, but the American company leaving as its Chinese counterpart moved to the front. 

The field’s low-remuneration service structure helps explain why Exxon grew frustrated and why PetroChina was prepared to remain.

China takes the ground

The pattern extends beyond the legacy supergiant fields. Iraq’s newer exploration, development, and production contracts have accelerated China’s advance. During the May 2024 licensing round, Chinese companies secured 10 oil and gas projects, while the Kurdish KAR Group won two. 

The successful Chinese bidders included CNOOC, ZhenHua, Anton Oilfield Services, Sinopec, Geo-Jade, Zhongman Petroleum, and United Energy Group. No US oil major participated. Chinese firms have appeared across Wasit, Diwaniyah, Baghdad/Wasit, Muthanna, Basra, Najaf, Baghdad/Salah al-Din, and Najaf/Karbala. The work spans seismic surveys and wildcat drilling through appraisal, development planning, and early production.

The newer contracts complicate this picture. Baghdad has begun replacing some older service arrangements with profit-sharing terms designed to attract investment. In October 2024, CNOOC signed an EDPC for Block 7 under this model. China’s rise in Iraq therefore cannot be explained solely by its willingness to accept low TSC fees. Chinese firms are also securing the more commercially attractive contracts Baghdad is now offering.

The phrase “the west invaded Iraq for oil” thus requires precision. If it means that Iraq’s strategic energy position shaped western policy, the claim remains historically important. Oil never disappeared from the calculations surrounding the war, from prewar planning to the occupation authority’s early decisions and the restructuring of the sector.

Nor can corporate outcomes alone settle a question of state strategy. But if the phrase means US and British companies secured lasting control of Iraqi production and captured most field-level profits, the evidence points elsewhere. 

Federal contracts limited foreign ownership and upside, and several western majors judged the returns inadequate for the risks. An invasion can reorganize a strategic sector without producing the simple corporate spoils its critics expected.

Chinese companies approached the same terrain differently. State-owned groups and smaller independents alike have accepted demanding conditions, lower immediate margins, and returns measured over decades rather than quarters. They draw on integrated supply chains, lower development costs, Chinese equipment, engineering depth, and a greater tolerance for political and operational risk. This has allowed them to move faster and remain where western firms have reduced their exposure.

The logic is strategic as well as commercial. China is the world’s largest crude importer and plans for energy security across decades. Iraq offers immense reserves, favorable geology, and comparatively low production costs, even when politics and infrastructure complicate operations. 

China is also a major buyer of Iraqi crude, linking participation at the wellhead to a much wider trading relationship. A modest fee today can secure relationships, geological knowledge, infrastructure positions, crude-supply links, and diplomatic influence tomorrow. 

The value may accrue across a state-backed corporate ecosystem rather than on one project’s balance sheet. Iraq is therefore not merely an oilfield balance sheet for Beijing, but part of an energy map spanning the Persian Gulf, Central Asia, Africa, and the wider Belt and Road geography.

Western majors answer to a different set of pressures: shareholder returns, capital discipline, and portfolio performance. They seek high-margin barrels, regulatory predictability, and contractual upside. 

When Iraq combined difficult operations with limited remuneration, several reduced their exposure, divested, or relied more heavily on contractors. Chinese firms increasingly performed the less celebrated but indispensable work of drilling, fabrication, project management, and incremental development – the work that turns Iraqi geology into production.

The same industrial shift is visible beyond Iraq. Chinese yards and engineering companies have fabricated modules and hulls for western-led offshore projects in Brazil and Guyana. These examples do not mean Chinese contractors control Shell or ExxonMobil. 

They point to a subtler dependency. Even where western majors remain operators, a growing share of the industrial base required to build complex energy infrastructure is located in China.

The Kurdish exception

A different arrangement developed in the Kurdistan Region, where companies including DNO, Genel Energy, Gulf Keystone Petroleum, HKN Energy, and Hunt Oil operated under production-sharing contracts. 

These offered more direct exposure to production revenues and resembled the terms private western companies often prefer. They also became the center of a long constitutional struggle between Erbil and Baghdad over who could sign contracts, market crude, and receive the proceeds. 

Iraq’s Federal Supreme Court ruled the KRG oil and gas law unconstitutional in 2022, while the closure of the Iraq–Turkiye export pipeline in 2023 further exposed the model’s legal and financial fragility. 

Federal Iraq’s TSCs preserved stronger formal state ownership but offered less upside. Western firms consequently became more visible where contracts resembled production sharing, while Chinese companies proved more willing to work within Baghdad’s service-contract system and, later, its hybrid profit-sharing adaptations.

Many observers in Iraq fear that the current government might seek to generalize this model to curry favor with Washington, which exercises significant influence over the Iraqi economy through E.O. 13303. While Article 111 establishes public ownership of oil and gas without prescribing a single contractual model, such an expansion could intensify disputes over federal authority, revenue distribution, and the absence of a comprehensive oil and gas law. Oil supplied roughly 95 percent of Iraqi government revenue in 2022, according to the US Energy Information Administration. Manufacturing and agriculture were badly damaged by war, sanctions, underinvestment, import dependence, and post-2003 mismanagement. 

To attribute their decline solely to the 1990s embargo and Anglo-American rule would conceal other causes, but Iraq’s failure to diversify has left the state exceptionally vulnerable to oil prices and external financial pressure.

An occupation’s unintended order

The conclusion is not that China ‘stole’ oil that Washington and London had intended to seize. Under the federal model, Iraq’s reserves remain state property. Nor was western power irrelevant. The war opened Iraq to international oil companies, while the dollar system created after the invasion preserved extraordinary US leverage. 

But the contracts and political conditions did not yield the high-profit field order western majors preferred. Chinese companies, backed by lower costs, strategic patience, and a longer view of energy security, occupied much of the space they left behind.

Iraq has consequently become a case study in the changing balance of global power. The older image was of western armies clearing a path for western oil companies. 

Chinese companies have taken a different approach. Both state-owned firms and smaller independents have entered difficult projects offering limited short-term returns. Lower costs, domestic supply chains, Chinese equipment, and extensive engineering capacity have helped them withstand risks that drove several western majors to scale back or leave.

The invasion’s oil legacy is therefore found less in direct Anglo-American possession of the fields than in the system built around them: an economy still overwhelmingly dependent on crude exports, revenues routed through New York, and an industry opened to foreign capital on terms Baghdad has repeatedly revised.

Yet the companies most willing to work those fields are increasingly not from the states that invaded Iraq in 2003. They are Chinese – and their rise is one of the clearest signs that the postwar order escaped the hands of its architects.

Washington’s invisible military ‘kill switch’

Arab states have spent billions on US weapons, only to discover that the decisive layer of military power was never included in the sale.  

Kamran Yeganegi

The Cradle 

Arab governments may hold legal title to some of the world’s most advanced weapons, yet ownership does not confer operational sovereignty. A fighter aircraft without approved munitions, spare parts, software updates, mission data, or specialist maintenance is an expensive object on a runway. 

Washington does not need a secret button to switch off an ally’s arsenal. Control over the system surrounding the weapon can produce the same result gradually, selectively, and under the cover of contracts, export rules, and routine technical support.

The arsenal behind the umbrella

According to SIPRI’s 2021–25 data, the US supplied 54 percent of all major arms imported by states in the “Middle East.” Saudi Arabia alone accounted for 6.8 percent of global arms imports, while Qatar took 6.4 percent and Kuwait 2.8 percent. 

These purchases include combat aircraft, air and missile defenses, precision weapons, sensors, and command systems. Each platform also binds the buyer to the supplier’s technical ecosystem for years to come.

That ecosystem now forms much of the Gulf’s high-end defense architecture. Saudi Arabia’s US-supplied inventory includes F-15 fighters, Patriot air defenses, attack helicopters, and precision munitions. The UAE operates F-16E/F fighters, Patriot batteries, and THAAD, while Qatar has built its air arm around F-15QA fighters and Patriot defenses. 

These systems are designed to function together through radar coverage, secure communications, identification systems, training, and US-compatible doctrine. Dependence therefore extends beyond individual weapons. Disrupting one support layer can reduce the effectiveness of several connected capabilities.

The dependency is visible in Washington’s own rules. The Defense Security Cooperation Agency calls major Foreign Military Sales a “Total Package Approach,” covering not only the platform but training, technical assistance, software, ammunition, follow-on support, and intelligence mission data.

Each element is also a potential point of control. A buyer can own the airframe while relying on the US for the data that defines threats, the software that integrates sensors, the missiles that arm it, and the expertise that returns it to service. This is the institutional foundation beneath the so-called American protection umbrella.

No magic button required

Public debate often reduces this relationship to a literal remote “kill switch.” The Pentagon’s F-35 Joint Program Office denied in 2025 that such a switch exists, and that there is no verified public evidence that Washington can transmit a command that instantly grounds every exported US aircraft or disables every missile.

That denial addresses the narrowest version of the claim. It does not remove the deeper dependency. Modern weapons are sustained by software releases, cryptographic material, threat libraries, proprietary test equipment, source-controlled components, and supply chains that remain beyond the buyer’s sovereign control.

The F-35 makes this structure unusually visible. Its Autonomic Logistics Information System (ALIS) is being replaced by the Operational Data Integrated Network, or ODIN. The program office describes ALIS as the system that turns aircraft maintenance data into decisions that keep jets flying, while the US Government Accountability Office has documented the difficulties surrounding its replacement.

Foreign operators do not receive unrestricted control over the aircraft’s core software. The US decided to withhold the F-35 source code even from partner countries. That does not mean a jet requires Washington’s permission before every takeoff, but it places long-term modernization, fault diagnosis, mission-data support, and much of the sustainment chain inside a US-led system.

The limits of GPS control

The same distinction applies to satellite-guided weapons. JDAM kits, Excalibur artillery rounds, and other precision munitions use GPS alongside inertial navigation. Their reliance on a US-operated constellation creates an obvious strategic vulnerability, particularly where access to encrypted military signals, updates, or compatible mission-planning equipment is restricted.

But the claim that Washington can revive “Selective Availability” to degrade civilian or export GPS over one chosen country is inaccurate. The US government ended Selective Availability in May 2000 and later removed the feature from new GPS satellites. The old mechanism also affected the constellation globally rather than creating a neat, country-sized exclusion zone.

The loss or denial of GPS would not necessarily turn every guided weapon into an unguided one. Systems combining satellite and inertial navigation can retain some capability, usually with degraded accuracy. Nor is there credible public evidence that Excalibur rounds or modern anti-tank missiles contain a remotely activated US software lock that makes a launcher reject them as “unverified.”

Washington’s real leverage lies elsewhere. It controls which munitions are exported, in what quantities, which upgrades and encryption standards are released, and whether depleted stocks are replenished during wartime. An arsenal can be neutralized without an invisible signal ever crossing the sky.

Saudi Arabia: The aircraft stays, the mission changes

Saudi Arabia’s F-15 fleet illustrates the distinction between possessing a platform and controlling its full combat potential. In February 2026, the US approved a possible $3-billion F-15 sustainment package covering spare and repair parts, classified and unclassified software, technical documentation, training, and US government and contractor support.

The package contains no new fighter fleet. Its value lies in keeping the existing one operational, exposing how a combat aircraft remains tied to decisions made long after the original sale.

This dependence became political leverage during the Yemen war. In February 2021, former US president Joe Biden declared: “We are ending all American support for offensive operations in the war in Yemen, including relevant arms sales.” 

The White House statement simultaneously promised continued support for Saudi territorial defense. Riyadh retained its aircraft and air defense systems, but Washington drew a line between the missions it would continue to enable and those it would restrict. 

The restrictions on certain offensive transfers were lifted in 2024, confirming that the tap could be closed and reopened by political decision.

Iraq’s F-16 fleet remains tied to US contractors

Iraq purchased 36 F-16s from the US, but the fleet’s readiness remained heavily dependent on American technical personnel. In May 2021, Lockheed Martin withdrew its maintenance team from Balad Air Base after repeated attacks by resistance factions. 

The decision was taken for security reasons, not as punishment by Washington. Its military effect was nevertheless revealing. Air & Space Forces Magazine reported that the withdrawal was likely to limit fleet operations.

The episode exposed the extent of Iraq’s dependence. If the departure of contractors could restrict fleet operations, Washington could exert similar pressure by suspending export licenses, contracts, or technical support. Iraq owned the jets but not the full chain needed to keep them flying.

The UAE negotiates the limits of sovereignty

The Emirati case shows that leverage can be exercised before a platform arrives. A proposed $23 billion package included 50 F-35 fighters, up to 18 MQ-9 armed drones, and advanced munitions. Negotiations stalled amid US concerns about China’s technological presence in the UAE and the conditions attached to operating the aircraft. Explaining Abu Dhabi’s suspension of the talks in 2021, an Emirati official cited “technical requirements, sovereign operational restrictions, and cost/benefit analysis.” 

Those “sovereign operational restrictions” exposed the limits of the deal. Washington had no Emirati aircraft to disable; it used its grip over the technology to dictate the terms of access before a single jet was delivered. The kill switch came with the sale itself.

Washington pulls the plug on Turkiye

Turkiye provides the clearest regional case. It was not merely an F-35 customer but a NATO ally and manufacturing partner producing hundreds of components. Turkish firms had invested in the program, Ankara had paid roughly $1.4 billion, and Turkish pilots had already begun training in the US.

After Ankara accepted Russia’s S-400 air defense system, the Pentagon removed it from the F-35 program. A senior US defense official stated: “Turkey can choose to acquire the S-400 or the F-35. It cannot have both.” The Pentagon then began unwinding Turkiye’s participation, despite Ankara’s investment, industrial role, and alliance status.

The episode is more concrete than claims that US software would stop a Turkish F-35 from targeting Greek forces. No credible public evidence shows that NATO identification-friend-or-foe coding automatically prevents weapons from locking onto allied aircraft and ships, or that Washington can remotely freeze a Turkish mission computer once a target is selected.

Washington’s power was exercised long before the aircraft could take flight. It blocked delivery, expelled Turkish firms from the production chain, ended pilot training, and withheld access to software and maintenance. The aircraft did not have to be remotely grounded because the US ensured that Turkiye never received it.

Ankara’s response has been to place greater weight on the domestically developed KAAN fighter and to seek alternative procurement routes. Yet Turkiye has also continued to pursue a return to the F-35 program, with President Recep Tayyip Erdogan saying in 2025 that technical-level talks had resumed. 

An architecture of permission

None of these cases proves that Washington possesses a hidden code capable of remotely disabling every exported weapon. Nor does it need one. The real kill switch runs through ammunition approvals, spare parts, software, technical data, contractors, training, mission files, and upgrades.

Each pressure point can be presented as an ordinary administrative, legal, or contractual decision. Together, they define the boundaries of military autonomy and allow Washington to impose costs selectively without announcing that an ally’s arsenal has been switched off.

Washington’s leverage has limits. Arab states can turn to European or Chinese suppliers or develop weapons at home, while US pressure does not always force a change in policy. But replacing an established military system takes years, and combat readiness cannot wait.

Arab states own the hardware, while Washington retains considerable influence over the readiness of those weapons, the missions they can sustain, and the strategic choices they can support.