The Myth of Military Invincibility: Lessons from Iran and Ukraine

By Frank Ofili

History has a habit of humbling great powers.

For decades, the United States and Russia have stood as the world’s pre-eminent military superpowers, fielding the most sophisticated weaponry, the largest defence budgets, and unparalleled intelligence capabilities. Their military dominance has often created the impression that once they commit to war, victory is only a matter of time.

Recent events have exposed the flaws in that assumption.

Two countries with far fewer military resources—Iran and Ukraine—have demonstrated that in modern warfare, superior firepower alone does not guarantee victory. Determination, resilience, strategic adaptation, and national resolve can frustrate even the most formidable military machines.

Russia’s invasion of Ukraine was expected by many to be swift. Military analysts predicted that Kyiv would fall within days or weeks. Instead, years later, Ukraine remains defiant. Despite relentless missile attacks, occupation of territory, and enormous human and material losses, the Ukrainian state has refused to collapse.

What was intended to be a quick military operation has evolved into one of the costliest wars in modern European history, draining Russian finances, depleting military hardware, inviting unprecedented sanctions, and reshaping global geopolitics.

The Middle East now offers a strikingly similar lesson.

When the United States and Israel intensified military operations against Iran, many observers believed Tehran would soon be forced to negotiate from a position of weakness. Some predicted that the Iranian political system itself would crumble under sustained military pressure.

Even the reported killing of Iran’s Supreme Leader, Ayatollah Ali Khamenei, and the subsequent installation of Mojtaba Khamenei as his successor did not produce the political collapse many had anticipated. Instead, Iran continued to fight, adapting its military strategy while maintaining its command structure and political cohesion.

Rather than surrendering, Iran has demonstrated a remarkable capacity for endurance while confronting the combined military pressure of two of the world’s most technologically advanced armed forces.

The assumption that overwhelming military superiority would deliver a quick victory has once again proved overly optimistic.

This should not surprise students of history.

The United States learned similar lessons in Vietnam, Iraq, and Afghanistan. The Soviet Union discovered the limits of military power in Afghanistan during the 1980s. Time and again, history has shown that wars are not won solely by superior weapons. They are also contests of endurance, morale, political will, and the ability of a society to absorb pain without breaking.

Modern warfare has become less about who possesses the biggest arsenal and more about who can outlast the other.

These wars are imposing staggering costs on all sides.

Every missile fired, every fighter jet deployed, every warship mobilised, and every military campaign sustained comes with an enormous financial burden. Defence budgets have ballooned while governments struggle to balance military spending with domestic economic needs.

The ripple effects extend far beyond the battlefields.

Global energy markets remain volatile. Supply chains continue to experience disruptions. Inflationary pressures have become more persistent, and investor confidence has repeatedly been shaken by fears of further escalation. Nations with no direct involvement in these conflicts are nevertheless paying an economic price.

There is also an equally significant political cost.

Leaders who promise swift victories often find themselves trapped in prolonged conflicts where success becomes increasingly difficult to define. Public patience diminishes. Political divisions widen. International alliances become strained. The pressure to avoid the appearance of defeat can sometimes become as influential as the original strategic objectives.

The greatest tragedy, however, remains the human cost.

Thousands of lives have been lost. Millions have been displaced. Cities have been reduced to rubble. Critical infrastructure has been destroyed. Families have been torn apart, and entire generations now face uncertain futures because diplomacy failed before war began.

One cannot help but wonder whether these conflicts might have been avoided altogether.

The world appears to be suffering from a shortage of truly exceptional diplomacy. The twentieth century produced statesmen who understood that negotiation, compromise, and strategic patience often achieved what bombs could not. Today, military action too frequently appears to precede serious diplomatic engagement rather than serve as its last resort.

Diplomacy has not disappeared, but it no longer seems to command the same respect it once did.

None of this diminishes the importance of military strength. Every sovereign nation has both the right and the obligation to defend itself. Yet military power should remain an instrument of policy—not a substitute for it.

The conflicts in Ukraine and Iran have delivered a sobering lesson to the international community: even the world’s strongest armies can find themselves locked in wars that prove far more expensive, protracted, and politically damaging than anyone initially imagined.

Military superiority can destroy targets.

It cannot always break a nation’s resolve.

Perhaps that is the most important lesson these wars have taught the world.

The greatest victories are not always won on the battlefield. More often than not, they are secured around the negotiating table before the first shot is ever fired.