In the weeks since the US and Israel launched strikes on Iran, the battle for the narrative over the war's progress has been taking place at the heart of American military power. From week one, I've been inside the Pentagon press briefings given by US Defence Secretary Pete Hegseth, the former Army National Guard Major and Fox News pundit.
From the first update to reporters, when he set out America's war aims, until the latest which followed the announcement of a two-week truce, the man running the world's most powerful military has brought his TV-style, on-screen monologue to the Pentagon podium.
The briefings have been chest-thumping affairs, revelling in portrayals of American military supremacy. Hegseth said on Wednesday the US had scored a capital V military victory. At another briefing, he said the US had dealt death and destruction from the sky all day long.
However, getting to the truth of the war's progress and its toll on the US has taken deeper interrogation. With a tenuous ceasefire in place that is already being tested, there are questions about what the US has actually achieved and at what cost.
### Little progress on nuclear issue
President Trump's core war goal was to deny Iran the ability to develop a nuclear weapon, a claim Iran disputes. This had also been a long-term objective of US-led diplomacy. Trump believed the 2015 Obama-brokered global nuclear deal (JCPOA) was insufficient and subsequently pulled the US out of the agreement, applying sanctions on a compliant Iran, setting a pattern of oscillating between diplomacy and military action.
As the ceasefire persists, evidence suggests minimal progress has been made concerning Iran's nuclear ambitions. International Nuclear watchdog IAEA suggests there may not be a military solution to the problem, suggesting that diplomacy might offer more viable paths forward.
### Degrading Iran's arsenal
While the Trump administration claims it has destroyed much of Iran's military capabilities, independent assessments suggest that Iran retains a considerable portion of its military arsenal. The war, initially aimed at regime change, led to the assassination of significant Iranian figures but did not achieve the expected outcomes.
### The cost of war
The human cost remains staggering, with casualties among US troops and exorbitant financial expenditures. The political cost for Trump has manifested in dwindling support among the populace and pushback from members of Congress. Fractures within his once-steadfast alliance signal potential challenges ahead, and the global economic fallout further complicates the scenario.
### Testing America's allies
Iran's control over critical areas has tested US alliances. Trump's fluctuating stance has underscored the challenges in maintaining cohesive military and diplomatic relations with allied nations, raising concerns about America's reliability on the world stage and shifting perceptions of its role as a superpower. The war's ultimate costs and consequences are yet to unfold, but indications suggest they may be far-reaching.
From the first update to reporters, when he set out America's war aims, until the latest which followed the announcement of a two-week truce, the man running the world's most powerful military has brought his TV-style, on-screen monologue to the Pentagon podium.
The briefings have been chest-thumping affairs, revelling in portrayals of American military supremacy. Hegseth said on Wednesday the US had scored a capital V military victory. At another briefing, he said the US had dealt death and destruction from the sky all day long.
However, getting to the truth of the war's progress and its toll on the US has taken deeper interrogation. With a tenuous ceasefire in place that is already being tested, there are questions about what the US has actually achieved and at what cost.
### Little progress on nuclear issue
President Trump's core war goal was to deny Iran the ability to develop a nuclear weapon, a claim Iran disputes. This had also been a long-term objective of US-led diplomacy. Trump believed the 2015 Obama-brokered global nuclear deal (JCPOA) was insufficient and subsequently pulled the US out of the agreement, applying sanctions on a compliant Iran, setting a pattern of oscillating between diplomacy and military action.
As the ceasefire persists, evidence suggests minimal progress has been made concerning Iran's nuclear ambitions. International Nuclear watchdog IAEA suggests there may not be a military solution to the problem, suggesting that diplomacy might offer more viable paths forward.
### Degrading Iran's arsenal
While the Trump administration claims it has destroyed much of Iran's military capabilities, independent assessments suggest that Iran retains a considerable portion of its military arsenal. The war, initially aimed at regime change, led to the assassination of significant Iranian figures but did not achieve the expected outcomes.
### The cost of war
The human cost remains staggering, with casualties among US troops and exorbitant financial expenditures. The political cost for Trump has manifested in dwindling support among the populace and pushback from members of Congress. Fractures within his once-steadfast alliance signal potential challenges ahead, and the global economic fallout further complicates the scenario.
### Testing America's allies
Iran's control over critical areas has tested US alliances. Trump's fluctuating stance has underscored the challenges in maintaining cohesive military and diplomatic relations with allied nations, raising concerns about America's reliability on the world stage and shifting perceptions of its role as a superpower. The war's ultimate costs and consequences are yet to unfold, but indications suggest they may be far-reaching.
![Caterers, Countless Lives: Detroit Chef's Food Feeds Lebanon's War‑Torn Families","description":"In the suburbs of Dearborn Heights, a 47‑year‑old Lebanese chef turns her catering profits into lifelines for over a million displaced from Lebanon, illustrating how U.S. diaspora communities bridge crises from afar.","summary":"When war in southern Lebanon breaks out, hundreds of thousands flee to neighboring Israel and the United States. Amid rising costs, Mirvet Makki—Detroit‑based caterer—sets aside a portion of her earnings each week to sponsor families back home. Her culinary endeavor, which serves soured couscous stews and savory kibbeh, becomes a quiet lifeline for a nation in economic crisis. The problem mirrors a larger diaspora trend: U.S. Lebanese communities fund relief, rally politically, and keep cultural bonds alive, even as they watch conflict unfold from afar.","image":"https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1588097834006-0edc6c69d944?auto=format&fit=crop&w=640&q=80","text":"<p>In the Detroit suburb of Dearborn Heights, 47‑year‑old Mirvet Makki punches kitchen knives and pushes trays of fragrant Lebanese dishes, the same dishes that stir memories of her childhood village in Bint Jbeil. When the devastating war between Israel and Hezbollah dragged thousands of civilians into tent cities, a wave of refugees hit Lebanon’s southern coast—and the Lebanese diaspora in America felt a pull they could not ignore.</p><p>Every week, Makki allocates a slice of her catering profits to families in Lebanon devastated by aerial bombardments and land mines. She says the money is not a charitable donation in the truest sense. Rather, it is a trans‑national family budget trickle that keeps aunts and cousins fed while they await a return that may never happen. The funds travel across borders to a people whose homes have been reduced to rubble.</p><p>Lebanon’s displacement crisis has reached a scale previously thought unlikely: more than one million of the 6‑million‑strong population—roughly one in six—have fled their homes. The economic damage is brutal and the currency has weakened to the point that the U.S. dollar circulates in many rural markets. Food cost, fuel availability, and basic utilities have all collapsed, leaving communities hungry and desperate.</p><p>“I was thinking, ‘What can I do for other people?’” Makki says. “So I used my business.” She maintains a strict budget, limiting personal overhead to spare enough money for her sisters, nephews, and a small handful of friends who live in the most affected regions.</p><p>Many Lebanese Americans—some of them in the U.S. since the late 1800s—have become the de facto financial lifeline for Lebanon. According to the last census, roughly 625,000 Lebanese‑American residents live in the United States now, though many estimates claim the number could be as high as 1.4 million. Secretary‑General António Guterres shook hands with families in South Lebanon while speaking in Nairobi, underscoring how diaspora remittances are crucial to the country's survival.</p><p>Christians, Sunni and Shiite Muslims, and smaller Druze communities in Lebanon face distinct hardships, but their U.S. cousins unite over common concerns. When the U.S. voted to provide war aid to Israel, a wave of Lebanese Americans gathered around the “uncommitted movement” to protest, and the community also rallied to condemn a Michigan synagogue shooting. These political coalitions share a single aim: to be the voice and the hand for those who cannot lift themselves.</p><p>“When they see suffering in Lebanon, people’s immediate reaction … is for the community to come together, raise funds, raise money, and try to help everybody as much as they can,” says Akram Khater, director of Lebanese Diaspora Studies at North Carolina State University. “Most rely on one another – they are not looking to Washington for the furniture to rebuild.”</p><p>In February, Makki visited her homeland. She saw how the price of living had skyrocketed: a car rental that once cost $200 would now be a luxury. She felt the loss firsthand in a small roadside food stall that had dwindled to a single dish. That trip cemented her determination to channel her income back to Lebanon.</p><p>Some Americans are moving beyond bank transfers; they meet with families on video calls and, when possible, travel to Lebanon themselves to deliver goods or give a hands‑on hand. Nadia Bryant, a 37‑year‑old mother of Troy, Michigan, sends money to her sisters in temporary housing after their village of Ayta ash‑Shab was invaded. “They donated in direct form to orphans,” she says. “They do not even ask to put the money toward their own betterment.”</p><p>While the U.S. still cannot process immigrant visas for Lebanese nationals due to congressional stand‑by, many families despair. Attoui, a Detroit‑based fundraiser, has urged her relatives to immigrate. They are unwilling. “I have all my aunts and my cousins over there,” Attoui says. “So if you could bring [people] here, that would be a relief.”</p><p>Despite the personal losses and cultural distance, the Lebanese diaspora in the U.S. remains fiercely alive. They keep the poise of their homeland, raise money, and stand together in protest. As the war stretches on, the warmth of a pot of stew and the generosity of a family’s earnings become a quiet, daily rebellion against impossible hunger.</p>](/m/d1/2a/d12a9a3593712ff0281d85ddca1a552c8f027c57cb44d7ac67e0241a3bd37d9d/o.webp)
