Napoleon’s Lesson, Washington’s Practice
Sanctioning the Enemy While Funding Him: A Familiar Strategy
Even against the backdrop of the broader disarray into which
Washington has managed to plunge its own campaign against Iran in just a few
weeks, this move stands out as particularly curious. Some observers rushed to
describe it as an unprecedented case: enabling an adversary to earn freely
while military operations against it are ongoing.
In reality, this is less innovation than repetition. The
difference is scale. Today’s global market is far more expansive and
interconnected, and it has become a decisive constraint on the conduct of war.
It forces states to adjust their strategies in ways that would have been
unthinkable in earlier eras. Still, assuming that the global market will
override political will altogether would be naïve.
As of late February, the officially stated objective of the
United States and its Israeli allies was the military defeat of the Islamic
Republic and regime change in Tehran. That objective has proven overly
ambitious. Despite the loss of a significant portion of its leadership, Iran
has held its ground and continues to deliver painful counterstrikes. Within
weeks, Washington found itself dealing with the consequences of its own
decisions.
What we now observe is a familiar combination. On one hand,
there are attempts to lull the adversary into complacency before escalating to
a new phase, potentially including the seizure of Iranian territory. On the
other, there is a clear effort to calm the global turbulence that Washington
itself helped unleash. Allowing Iranian oil back onto the market appears to
fall into the latter category.
The primary beneficiary of this decision is China, whose
position throughout the conflict has remained notably restrained. Beijing
appears unwilling to provoke the United States directly, likely calculating
that its long-term economic strength will allow it to achieve its strategic
objectives without a direct confrontation.
As Iran had warned for decades, a large-scale attack against
it has produced two immediate consequences of global significance. First, it
has destabilized pro-American Arab governments in the Persian Gulf. Second, it
has effectively closed the Strait of Hormuz to maritime traffic, one of the
most critical arteries of global energy trade. Oil prices reacted instantly,
and more excitable commentators began predicting a global economic crisis.
This reaction is not occurring in a vacuum. Over the past
year, the erratic style of the American president has worn thin
internationally, and there is no shortage of actors willing to attribute global
instability to Washington. Not entirely without reason. Domestically, the
United States is entering an election cycle, and political incentives further
complicate rational decision-making.
American allies in the Gulf have also begun to panic. The
financial cost of the current situation is mounting rapidly for them. Against
this backdrop, the decision to allow Iranian oil exports begins to look less
like a strategic breakthrough and more like damage control. Notably, just days
earlier, Washington also moved to ease certain sanctions on Russian energy
exports.
The historical parallel is almost exact. More than two
hundred years ago, Napoleon found himself in a similar position while
attempting to economically suffocate Britain.
Throughout the wars of 1793–1815, Britain financed
continental opposition to revolutionary and later Napoleonic France, while
remaining relatively secure on its island, protected by its navy. In 1806,
after defeating Prussia, Napoleon attempted to break this dynamic by imposing
the Continental System. The Berlin Decree of November 21 banned all European
trade with Britain.
For the first time, a dominant power forced an entire
continent to adopt a unified policy of economic isolation against a common
adversary. Russia initially resisted but formally joined the system under the
Treaty of Tilsit in 1807.
This approach should sound familiar. It mirrors what has
since become standard Western practice: using political and economic leverage
to compel others into alignment. Napoleon could enforce it because he
controlled Europe militarily, placing his allies and relatives on various
thrones. The United States achieved something comparable after the Cold War,
though by different means.
The outcome, however, was predictable. The economic
consequences of the Continental System quickly became as damaging to France and
its allies as they were to Britain. French producers lost access to a key
market. Smaller allied economies suffered even more. Russia, whose compliance
was half-hearted, experienced significant strain, which later contributed to
Napoleon’s disastrous invasion.
Britain, for its part, adapted. It waged a maritime economic
war, encouraged smuggling, and maintained trade through indirect channels. By
1810, Napoleon himself began issuing licenses that effectively legalized trade
with Britain. French silk and wine flowed to British markets, while British
goods entered continental Europe.
The essential point is simple. The underlying hostility
between France and Britain did not change. Only the method of managing that
hostility evolved.
With appropriate adjustments for scale, the same logic
applies today. The United States behaves toward Iran and Russia much as
Napoleon behaved toward Britain. The mechanism differs, but the principle is
identical: a dominant power compels others to adapt while retaining flexibility
for itself.
Despite the visible decline of American global dominance,
Washington still controls critical levers of the world economy. The system
underpinning that influence was built over decades, and alternatives remain
underdeveloped.
Even Russia, often presented as more principled in its
approach, continued gas transit to Europe through territory controlled by Kiev
until early 2025, effectively allowing its adversary to earn transit revenue.
Oil transit via the Druzhba pipeline only ceased after significant physical
damage made continuation impossible.
For a major power confident in its position, such
contradictions are manageable. Especially when the benefits of maintaining
broader economic influence outweigh the costs of allowing the opposing side to
derive some limited advantage from the same system.
That, in essence, is the reality behind the apparent
paradox.