by Rajnish Singh
In 1850, British Foreign Secretary Lord Palmerston sent the Royal Navy to blockade the Greek port of Piraeus after Athens refused to compensate a British subject, Don Pacifico, who had been assaulted. The episode became a textbook case of gunboat diplomacy: the use of naval power, rather than polite negotiation, to force political outcomes. Governments could bluster — but they could not ignore warships on the horizon.
Nearly two centuries later, Donald Trump’s decision to deploy the USS Abraham Lincoln Carrier Strike Group to the Persian Gulf has an unmistakably familiar feel.
The US naval build-up comes as the Islamic Republic faces its gravest domestic crisis since 1979. Iran’s economy is in freefall, inflation is rampant, and nationwide protests have erupted demanding sweeping political reform. Tehran’s response has been brutal: a near-total internet blackout, mass arrests, and the use of live ammunition against demonstrators.
The human cost has been staggering. Iranian officials have acknowledged thousands of deaths, but independent human rights organisations and medical NGOs suggest the true toll could be much higher, around 30,000. Most fatalities occurred during particularly violent demonstrations on 8 and 9 January 2026. The combination of internal unrest and external military pressure has left the region at its most unstable in decades.
The parallel with Palmerston is not just a historical rhetoric. Trump is reviving a long tradition in which naval power is used not simply to win wars, but to shape politics before shots are fired. Palmerston treated the Royal Navy as an extension of his diplomatic authority — floating ultimatums that left little room for manoeuvre. Today, the nuclear-powered Abraham Lincoln and its fleet of fighter jets serve a similar purpose, projecting power directly at Ayatollah Ali Khamenei and the Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps.
Nor is this tactic uniquely British. Various US presidents, including Theodore Roosevelt, deliberately demonstrated their strength toward Japan. John F. Kennedy’s naval blockade during the Cuban Missile Crisis in the 1960s, which famously brought the world to the brink of nuclear war while pushing Moscow to negotiate. In the 1980s, Ronald Reagan used aircraft carriers in the Gulf of Sidra to bomb Libya, but not a formal declaration of war.
Trump has carried this logic into 2026, coupling his pressure on Tehran with aggressive maritime actions elsewhere, including the pursuit of Russian “shadow fleet” tankers accused of breaching sanctions and capturing President Nicolás Maduro of Venezuela.
Yet the strategy carries profound risks. Tehran may interpret the US deployment not as deterrence, but as a prelude to attack. Revolutionary Guard commanders operate under intense pressure, limited communications, and a culture of brinkmanship. A stray drone, a misfired missile, or a confrontation between patrol boats could spiral into a wider conflict faster than either side intends.
The regional consequences would be immediate. The Strait of Hormuz — through which roughly a fifth of the world’s traded oil passes — is one miscalculation away from crisis. Iran’s network of proxy forces in Iraq, Syria, Lebanon and Yemen could act independently, widening the conflict beyond Washington’s or Tehran’s control. A major war could also trigger a refugee wave that would destabilise neighbouring states and send shockwaves through global energy markets.
There are, however, tentative signs of diplomatic movement. Tehran has signalled a willingness to resume nuclear talks in Istanbul, reportedly offering to cap uranium enrichment at 20 per cent or even accept a form of “zero enrichment” under an international consortium to avert airstrikes.=
Still, major red lines remain. Iran insists its ballistic missile programme is non-negotiable and rejects any discussion of its regional proxies or human rights record. Washington, by contrast, is pushing for a comprehensive deal that addresses missiles and what it terms Iran’s “terrorist” activities. The result is a high-stakes stand-off with little common ground.
For now, Trump’s “Armada” represents a calculated revival of gunboat diplomacy — a bet that visible military power can achieve what years of negotiation have not. By parking US warships off a weakened Iran, the president has undeniably forced Tehran back to the table. But if Trump can transform his maritime pressure into a comprehensive agreement, it would benefit both the region and the people of Iran.
By: N. Peter Kramer