
In the arena of international relations, the prevailing belief has long been that military superiority is synonymous with victory. However, research by political scientist Patricia Sullivan formally from the University of Georgia, now Professor of History at the University of South Carolina, challenges this assumption, revealing a complex and often counterintuitive reality. Analysing 122 post-World War II conflicts involving the five permanent members of the United Nations Security Council – namely, the United States, the United Kingdom, France, Russia and China – Sullivan found that these militarily dominant nations failed to achieve their objectives in 39 percent of wars against significantly weaker opponents, despite their overwhelming resources. This paradox is further supported by New York University professor Bruce Bueno De Mesquita, whose analysis indicates that weaker nations have prevailed in 41 percent of conflicts over the past two centuries. Sullivan’s findings, set to be published in the Journal of Conflict Resolution, underscore a critical insight: military power alone is not a reliable predictor of success. This post delves into the reasons behind this phenomenon, drawing on Sullivan’s research, historical examples and recent conflicts, including the ongoing Israel-Iran conflict as of June 2025, to illustrate why strong nations often falter when facing weaker adversaries.
The Nature of Failure in Asymmetric Conflicts
Sullivan’s research highlights a striking pattern: the failures of powerful nations are not typically the result of outright military defeat. In every conflict she studied, the stronger nation retained its military superiority, yet in nearly two out of five cases, they either withdrew unilaterally or became entangled in stalemates. The United States’ experience in Korea (1950–1953), where it fought to a standstill and its withdrawal from Somalia in 1993, following the devastating events chronicled in Black Hawk Down, serve as emblematic examples. In Somalia, the US military was only marginally degraded, yet it abandoned the mission. These outcomes defy expectations, as the technological and economic advantages of these nations should, in theory, ensure decisive victories.
The key to understanding this paradox lies in the objectives pursued by powerful nations. Sullivan identifies a critical distinction between wars aimed at achieving an opponent’s submission and those requiring their cooperation. Submission-oriented goals, such as expelling an enemy from a territory or overthrowing a regime, can often be achieved through brute force. For instance, in the 1991 Gulf War, the US-led coalition successfully pushed Saddam Hussein’s forces out of Kuwait, a goal attainable through military dominance. Similarly, the 2003 invasion of Iraq toppled Hussein’s regime, an objective that did not depend on Iraqi acquiescence. However, when goals extend to requiring cooperation – such as fostering democracy, securing allegiance or altering domestic policies – success becomes elusive. Sullivan notes that “on one end of the spectrum are things you can achieve with brute force,” while “on the opposite end is getting an adversary to change a domestic or foreign policy – you want the adversary to change his behaviour.” This distinction is crucial, as cooperation cannot be coerced through military means alone.
Historical Case Studies: Vietnam, Somalia and Iraq
The Vietnam War (1955–1975) serves as a quintessential example of a powerful nation’s failure to secure cooperation. The United States, with its vast military resources, sought to prevent the spread of communism by supporting a non-communist government in South Vietnam. Despite deploying over 500,000 troops and conducting extensive bombing campaigns, the US could not compel the North Vietnamese or the Viet Cong to abandon their objectives. The conflict ended with the fall of Saigon in 1975, as the US withdrew, unable to achieve its political goals. This failure was not due to military inferiority but to the inability to win the cooperation of the Vietnamese population and government, who remained resilient in their pursuit of unification under communist rule.
The US withdrawal from Somalia in 1993 further illustrates this dynamic. Following the downing of two Black Hawk helicopters and the deaths of 18 American soldiers in the Battle of Mogadishu, public and political pressure led to a US retreat. The mission, initially aimed at providing humanitarian aid and stabilising the region, required the cooperation of Somali factions to establish a functioning government. However, local resistance, particularly from warlord Mohamed Farrah Aidid’s militia, thwarted these efforts. Despite minimal degradation of US military capabilities, the lack of local cooperation rendered the mission unsustainable.
The Iraq War (2003–2011) provides a more recent example. The initial invasion achieved its submission-oriented goal of overthrowing Saddam Hussein’s regime within weeks. However, the subsequent occupation, aimed at creating “a democratic Iraq that upholds the rule of law, respects the rights of its people, provides them security and is an ally in the war on terror,” as articulated by President George W. Bush in his 2005 State of the Union address, required Iraqi cooperation. This proved elusive, as insurgencies, sectarian violence and political fragmentation undermined US efforts. By the time US troops withdrew in 2011, Iraq remained unstable, with the rise of ISIS in 2014 highlighting the failure to achieve these broader objectives.
Recent Conflicts: Afghanistan and the Limits of Nation-Building
The US experience in Afghanistan (2001–2021) further underscores Sullivan’s findings. Following the 9/11 attacks, the US swiftly toppled the Taliban regime, a submission-oriented goal achieved through overwhelming military force. However, the subsequent mission to build a stable, democratic Afghanistan required the cooperation of Afghan institutions, tribal leaders and the population. Despite two decades of investment, costing over $2 trillion and the lives of more than 2,400 US service members, the US withdrew in August 2021 and the Taliban regained control. The failure to secure lasting cooperation from Afghan stakeholders – due to corruption, cultural disconnects and persistent insurgency – doomed the nation-building effort.
Other recent conflicts involving powerful nations reveal similar patterns. Russia’s invasion of Ukraine, launched in February 2022, aimed to swiftly subdue the country and install a pro-Russian government. While Russia’s military was vastly superior, Ukraine’s resistance, bolstered by Western support, has led to a protracted conflict. As of June 2025, Russia has failed to achieve its strategic objectives, with Ukraine retaining control over much of its territory. This stalemate reflects the difficulty of coercing cooperation from a determined adversary, even when military disparities are stark.
The Israel-Iran Conflict: A Case Study in Escalation and Ambiguity
The ongoing conflict between Israel and Iran, which escalated dramatically in June 2025, provides a contemporary lens through which to examine Sullivan’s thesis. On June 13, 2025, Israel launched a unilateral military strike against Iran, targeting nuclear facilities, missile factories, senior military officials and nuclear scientists. Described as a “last-resort effort” to prevent Iran from acquiring nuclear weapons, the operation triggered a tit-for-tat cycle of missile and drone attacks, with Iran retaliating against Israeli cities like Haifa and Tel Aviv. The conflict entered its second week with no sign of de-escalation, as Israel warned of a “prolonged war” and Iran vowed to defend its sovereignty.
On June 21, 2025, the United States directly intervened, striking three Iranian nuclear sites – Fordow, Isfahan and Natanz – with bunker-buster bombs, marking a significant escalation. President Donald Trump described the operation, codenamed “Midnight Hammer,” as a “spectacular military success,” claiming the facilities were “completely obliterated.” Iran acknowledged the attacks but claimed its personnel were evacuated beforehand, minimising the damage. The US strikes, conducted without congressional authorisation, sparked international condemnation, with countries like Cuba, Chile and Venezuela labelling them a violation of international law. Iran’s Foreign Minister Abbas Araghchi warned of “everlasting consequences” and reserved “all options” for retaliation.
This conflict aligns with Sullivan’s framework in several ways. Israel’s initial objectives – neutralising Iran’s nuclear program and eliminating key military figures – are submission-oriented, achievable through brute force. The destruction of centrifuge production sites and the killing of senior commanders, such as those in Iran’s Quds Force, reflect successes in this domain. However, broader strategic goals, such as regime change or permanently dismantling Iran’s nuclear ambitions, require cooperation or acquiescence from Iran’s government and population. Sullivan’s research suggests that these goals are far harder to achieve, as they depend on political and social dynamics beyond the reach of military power.
Iran’s response, including missile attacks on Israel and a retaliatory strike on the US-run Al Udeid Air Base in Qatar on June 23, 2025, underscores the resilience of weaker powers. Despite Israel’s and the US’s military superiority, Iran has leveraged its decentralised defence strategy and proxy networks, such as Hezbollah and Iraqi militias, to sustain resistance. The threat to close the Strait of Hormuz, a critical oil shipping route, further illustrates Iran’s ability to impose costs on stronger adversaries, potentially disrupting global markets. These actions align with Bueno De Mesquita’s observation that weaker nations often prevail by outlasting their opponents through strategic patience and asymmetric tactics.
The human toll of the conflict is significant. Iran’s Health Ministry reports 430 civilian deaths and over 3,000 injuries since June 13, while an independent group counts 722 total fatalities, including 200 military personnel. In Israel, Iranian missile strikes have killed 24 people and injured over 1,000. The conflict’s escalation has raised fears of a broader regional war, with Iran’s proxies threatening attacks on US bases and shipping lanes. Diplomatic efforts, such as European-led talks in Geneva, have failed to produce a breakthrough, as Iran insists on a halt to Israeli strikes before resuming negotiations.
Why Strong Nations Struggle: Analysing the Dynamics
Sullivan’s research points to several factors explaining why strong nations struggle in asymmetric conflicts. First, the asymmetry of stakes often favours the weaker party. For powerful nations, conflicts with weaker adversaries are typically discretionary, involving strategic interests rather than existential threats. The United States, for instance, could withdraw from Vietnam or Somalia without jeopardising its survival. In contrast, weaker nations face existential risks, motivating fiercer resistance. In the Israel-Iran conflict, Iran perceives the attacks on its nuclear program and infrastructure as a threat to its sovereignty, fuelling its determination to retaliate.
Second, the political costs of prolonged engagement weigh heavily on powerful nations. Public opinion in democracies like the United States and Israel can turn against wars that drag on without clear victories. The U.S. withdrawal from Somalia was driven by domestic outrage over the Black Hawk Down incident, while the 2021 Afghanistan withdrawal reflected fatigue after two decades of inconclusive fighting. In the current Israel-Iran conflict, U.S. public support for intervention is low, with polls indicating concern over entanglement in a “potentially disastrous war.” This dynamic limits the willingness of strong nations to sustain costly campaigns.
Third, weaker nations exploit asymmetric strategies, such as insurgencies, guerrilla warfare or proxy forces, to offset military disparities. In Iraq and Afghanistan, insurgents used improvised explosive devices (IEDs) and hit-and-run tactics to erode U.S. resolve. Similarly, Iran’s use of proxies like Hezbollah and the Houthis, combined with missile barrages, allows it to inflict damage without engaging in direct, conventional warfare. These tactics prolong conflicts, testing the patience of stronger powers.
Finally, the complexity of cooperation-oriented goals undermines success. Unlike submission, which can be imposed through destruction, cooperation requires political legitimacy, cultural understanding and local buy-in. In Iraq, the U.S. struggled to bridge sectarian divides and build a cohesive government. In the Israel-Iran conflict, achieving regime change or a nuclear-free Iran would require not only military pressure but also internal political shifts within Iran – outcomes that airstrikes alone cannot secure.
Implications for Policy and Strategy
Sullivan’s findings, combined with recent conflicts, offer critical lessons for policymakers. First, powerful nations must align their objectives with the limits of military power. Submission-oriented goals, such as destroying an enemy’s capabilities, are more achievable than cooperation-oriented ones, like nation-building or regime change. The U.S. and Israel’s strikes on Iran’s nuclear facilities may delay its nuclear program, but expecting these actions to topple the regime or secure a cooperative government is unrealistic.
Second, strong nations should anticipate the resilience of weaker adversaries. Iran’s decentralised defence, proxy networks and missile capabilities have allowed it to absorb and counter Israeli and U.S. strikes. Policymakers must account for the ability of weaker powers to impose costs through asymmetric means, such as economic disruption or attacks on regional allies.
Third, diplomacy and soft power are essential for achieving cooperation-oriented goals. The failure of Geneva talks in June 2025 highlights the difficulty of negotiating amid active hostilities. Powerful nations should invest in diplomatic channels and cultural engagement to build the trust needed for long-term cooperation, rather than relying solely on coercion.
Finally, the domestic political context cannot be ignored. In democracies, public and congressional support is critical for sustaining military engagements. The U.S. strikes on Iran, conducted without congressional approval, have sparked debate over war powers, with figures like Representative Thomas Massie advocating for greater legislative oversight. Leaders must balance strategic objectives with domestic constraints to avoid abrupt withdrawals, as seen in Somalia and Afghanistan.
Conclusion
Patricia Sullivan’s research illuminates a profound truth: military power, while formidable, is not a panacea for achieving victory in asymmetric conflicts. The 39 percent failure rate of powerful nations against weaker opponents reflects the limitations of brute force when goals require cooperation rather than submission. Historical examples like Vietnam, Somalia, Iraq and Afghanistan, alongside the ongoing Israel-Iran conflict, demonstrate that weaker nations can prevail through resilience, asymmetric strategies and the high political costs they impose on their adversaries. As the United States, Israel and other powers navigate an increasingly complex global landscape, they must heed Sullivan’s insights, prioritising realistic objectives, diplomatic engagement and an understanding of the intricate interplay between power and purpose. Only by recognising these dynamics can strong nations avoid the pitfalls of overreach and achieve lasting success in the face of seemingly inferior foes.