The Iranians aren’t even sure what they have, US Army special forces veteran says

Iran’s Missile Mystery Deepens as Trump Weighs Pressure, Diplomacy and the Threat of Force

As President Trump traveled to Beijing for high-stakes talks with China, the Iran crisis followed him onto Air Force One, into the summit room and across every layer of American power.

The question now facing Washington is no longer simply whether Iran has been weakened. It is whether the regime in Tehran still has enough military capability, political cohesion and economic oxygen to keep resisting the United States — or whether it is bluffing with weapons even its own leaders may not fully understand.

Jim Hanson, a former U.S. Army Special Forces soldier and president of WorldStrat, argued that Iran’s position is weaker than its public threats suggest. In his view, the Iranian regime may still possess missiles, drones and underground assets, but it is operating under extraordinary pressure and with limited clarity about what remains usable after weeks of strikes, sanctions and military disruption.

“The Iranians at this point don’t really even know what they have,” Hanson said during a television interview, pushing back on reports that Tehran still retains substantial missile capability. His point was not that Iran is harmless. It was that intelligence estimates often come with wide ranges, and public leaks tend to emphasize the most alarming numbers.

That distinction matters.

A report that Iran still has a large missile inventory can sound like proof that American and Israeli operations have failed. But former military officials argue that raw numbers do not tell the full story. A missile that cannot be moved, fueled, launched, guided or protected from airstrikes is not the same as a missile ready for war. A stockpile hidden in tunnels is not necessarily an operational arsenal. A regime under pressure may claim strength while privately struggling to determine what it can still use.

For Trump, that uncertainty cuts both ways.

On one hand, the president may see an opportunity to force Iran into concessions before it regroups. On the other, he must avoid underestimating a regime that still has the ability to launch missiles, activate proxies or disrupt shipping through the Strait of Hormuz. The danger is not that Iran can win a conventional war against the United States. The danger is that it can create enough chaos to raise oil prices, threaten American forces and turn a regional conflict into a broader crisis.

That is why the administration’s current approach appears to rely on what Hanson called a “whole of government” strategy.

In Trump’s version of that approach, military power, trade leverage, sanctions, banking restrictions, energy policy and personal diplomacy all move together. A carrier group can send one message. A banking restriction can send another. A trade discussion with China can become part of the Iran file. A warning about Hormuz can be tied to oil exports, missile parts, insurance markets and access to American consumers.

Trump’s supporters see this as one of his greatest strengths. He does not separate diplomacy from economics or economics from military pressure. He treats them as connected instruments, all meant to force adversaries into a narrower set of choices.

That strategy is now being tested against Tehran.

Iran has long relied on China as an economic escape route. Beijing buys discounted Iranian oil, gives Tehran access to markets and helps blunt the effect of American sanctions. In return, China gains energy, leverage and a partner willing to challenge U.S. influence in the Middle East.

But China is not a sentimental ally. It is a calculating power.

That reality gives Trump room to maneuver during his Beijing trip. The president has said he does not need China’s help with Iran, but would take it if offered. Behind that remark is a clear calculation: if China decides that Iran is becoming more trouble than it is worth, Tehran’s strategic position could deteriorate quickly.

China needs oil. It needs shipping lanes. It needs access to global markets. It does not need a collapsing Iranian regime dragging it into a wider confrontation with the United States. If Trump can make support for Iran more expensive than cooperation with Washington, Beijing may quietly adjust.

That would be a major blow to Tehran.

It would also fit Trump’s preferred style of pressure. Rather than immediately restarting large-scale combat operations, he can allow diplomatic and economic force to keep building. He can make Iran poorer, more isolated and more uncertain. He can push China to rethink its support. He can keep American military forces ready while giving Tehran one more chance to make a deal.

Hanson said he believes Trump would prefer that route. The president, he argued, would rather force Iran to surrender its nuclear materials through pressure than send U.S. forces into one of the most dangerous special operations imaginable.

That possibility — an American or allied mission to seize or remove nuclear material from inside Iran — has become one of the most dramatic questions surrounding the conflict. Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu has publicly raised the issue of going after uranium directly. Such an operation would be extraordinarily risky. It would require elite forces, precise intelligence, air cover, deep penetration into hostile territory and confidence that the material could be located and secured.

The comparison to famous commando raids is inevitable. Netanyahu’s older brother, Yonatan Netanyahu, was killed leading the Israeli assault at Entebbe in 1976, one of the most celebrated hostage rescue missions in modern military history. Trump, too, has emphasized past special operations as symbols of American reach and resolve.

But Iran would be different.

An operation inside Iran to remove nuclear material would not be a raid against a single airport terminal or compound. It could involve hardened underground sites, uncertain intelligence, hostile air defenses, long distances, and the possibility of direct confrontation with Iranian forces. Even if tactically successful, it could ignite a new phase of war.

For that reason, Trump’s preferred outcome is likely not a raid, but surrender by negotiation.

The best case for Washington would be Iran agreeing to give up or allow removal of nuclear material because the regime no longer has the money, power or confidence to refuse. That would allow Trump to claim a major strategic victory without risking American lives in a deep operation on Iranian soil.

To get there, however, the pressure must continue.

One target of that pressure is the Strait of Hormuz, the narrow waterway through which a major share of global oil shipments passes. Iran has repeatedly threatened to control or close the strait, presenting itself as a kind of regional toll collector. American officials and military analysts reject that claim outright. Hormuz is an international waterway, and Washington has long insisted that Iran cannot be allowed to weaponize it.

That is why a renewed “Operation Freedom” around Hormuz is being discussed by Trump allies as increasingly likely.

The goal would be both practical and symbolic: run ships through the strait, demonstrate that Iran does not control it, and show global markets that the United States can keep energy routes open. Such an operation could unfold alongside strikes or other military activity designed to distract and overwhelm Iranian forces.

Hanson suggested that the administration may choose to act on multiple fronts at once. While Iran focuses on one form of pressure, the United States could move ships, strike targets, tighten sanctions or increase diplomatic demands. That layered approach is central to Trump’s style: keep the adversary reacting, uncertain and off balance.

Yet the president must still decide how far to go.

Some generals and national security officials reportedly favor finishing the target list — meaning renewed strikes against Iranian military, energy or command infrastructure. Others may argue that the economic campaign should be allowed more time. If Iran is already struggling to pay troops, sell oil, defend its skies and maintain internal control, then additional pressure may achieve what bombs would otherwise be used to force.

This is where the debate over Iran’s missile capabilities becomes politically important.

Reports that Iran retains a large number of missiles could be used by Trump critics to argue that his campaign has not succeeded. They could also be used by hawks to argue that the United States must strike again before Tehran can launch them. Hanson offered a third interpretation: the reports may be technically plausible but misleading without context.

Intelligence assessments often include high estimates and low estimates. A leaked figure may represent a worst-case scenario rather than the most likely one. The public rarely sees the full range, the confidence level, or the operational condition of the weapons involved. The result is a distorted debate, in which the largest number becomes the headline and the nuance disappears.

That does not mean Iran is disarmed. It means no one should assume the most dramatic estimate is the most accurate picture of battlefield reality.

The same caution applies to Iranian threats.

Tehran has an interest in appearing stronger than it is. It wants its people to believe the regime still commands fear. It wants regional partners to believe resistance is viable. It wants Washington to believe escalation will be costly. But if Iran’s economy is collapsing, its oil exports are blocked, its military sites are damaged and its patrons are wavering, then public confidence may mask private alarm.

Trump’s challenge is to exploit that weakness without triggering unnecessary chaos.

His trip to Beijing gives him a platform to do exactly that. The president can pressure China on oil purchases, sanctions evasion and support for Tehran. He can frame Iran as a bad investment for Beijing. He can offer energy alternatives, trade incentives or warnings. And he can make clear that if China continues helping Iran, it may face consequences in its broader relationship with the United States.

That is the diplomatic side of the campaign.

The military side remains waiting.

Hanson’s view is that “Operation Sledgehammer,” a term being used to describe a possible renewed American strike campaign, could be devastating for Iran if Trump decides to launch it. The very name reflects the administration’s instinct for branding: simple, forceful, unmistakable. Trump understands the power of labels, and he often uses them to frame conflict before the first shot is fired.

But branding does not remove risk.

A strike campaign could weaken Iran further, but it could also provoke retaliation. A Hormuz operation could reassure markets, but it could also produce a naval clash. A nuclear-material raid could solve one problem while creating several others. Every option carries consequences.

For now, Trump appears to be playing the long pressure game — but with the military option visible enough that Tehran cannot ignore it.

That may be the point.

Iran is being asked to look at its own position honestly: a damaged economy, uncertain missile forces, pressure on oil exports, distrust among allies, and a powerful adversary coordinating military, financial and diplomatic tools at once. The regime can keep threatening. It can keep leaking confidence. It can keep claiming ownership over waters it does not own.

But the hard reality is closing in.

The United States does not need Iran to admit weakness publicly. It only needs Iran’s leaders to understand it privately. If they do, diplomacy may still produce a deal. If they do not, Trump’s next move may be far less patient.

In Washington, Beijing and Tehran, everyone is now watching for the same signal: whether the pressure campaign is enough to force surrender at the table, or whether the next phase will come from the air, the sea and the shadows.