Iran (IMNA) - Tucker Carlson, the well-known American journalist and host, referring to Trump’s remarks about the use of nuclear weapons, said that such statements amount to crossing a red line. He stressed that any political official who raises the possibility of using nuclear weapons first has lost the qualification to remain in leadership and that Trump should be removed from power immediately.
The significance of Carlson’s remarks, however, extends beyond his personal position. What matters is the reopening of a debate that has long been regarded, even among America’s opponents and rivals, as one of the most dangerous red lines in Washington’s security policy: Can a US president invoke the use of nuclear weapons as a tool of pressure during a regional crisis without such a threat producing broader strategic consequences?
The issue is not simply the threat itself.
Trump had previously used highly escalatory rhetoric during political pressure against Iran. At one point, he said that if Iran failed to reach an agreement with the United States within the specified deadline, “an entire civilization” could be destroyed. Trump later ruled out using nuclear weapons against Iran and emphasized that the United States did not need such weapons.
Yet in international politics, the distance between a “threat,” a “bluff,” and a “real decision” is never clear enough to simply dismiss. A threat becomes dangerous when the other side is compelled to include the possibility of its implementation in its calculations.
For Iran, this issue carries particular importance. The Islamic Republic has demonstrated over the years that military pressure and threats do not necessarily push it toward accepting the other side’s demands. In some cases, US maximum threats, when confronted with real and significant costs for Washington, have resulted in a retreat or a change in position.
From this perspective, part of what Trump pursues under the policy of “maximum pressure” faces a fundamental problem: A threat is effective only when it is credible. If a threat is repeated too frequently without producing the expected result in practice, it can not only lose its deterrent effect but also weaken the credibility of the party making the threat.
Iran’s behavior, therefore, should not be assessed solely through the lens of military power or the number of missiles and drones. The central issue is the emergence of a form of mutual deterrence.
The United States possesses enormous destructive power, but military strength alone does not guarantee the ability to impose a political outcome. The experience of recent decades in the Middle East has demonstrated that destroying military targets and achieving a stable political result are two entirely different matters.
Iran is also seeking to increase the costs of a potential US military decision. Tehran understands that it cannot compete with Washington in terms of the volume of military capabilities, but it can influence the cost-benefit calculations behind an American decision.
This is where the concept of deterrence becomes important. Deterrence does not necessarily mean that one country can defeat the other. Rather, it is sufficient for one side to make the other understand that military victory does not necessarily translate into political victory.
Therefore, when Trump speaks about destroying a country or even a civilization, the central issue is not simply the intensity of his rhetoric. The more important question is whether Washington is genuinely prepared to bear the political, economic, security and regional costs of such a decision.
Carlson’s reaction should also be viewed within this framework. In recent years, he has repeatedly warned about US military interventionism and the expansion of foreign wars.
His objection, therefore, is not merely a political disagreement with Trump. It reflects a deeper concern: If the use of nuclear weapons becomes a normal option in American foreign policy, the issue will no longer be limited to Iran. Other countries could also receive the message that security guarantees, deterrence rules and even the boundaries surrounding the use of nuclear weapons may be altered by the decision of a single president.
Such a development could produce a chain reaction. Countries that feel vulnerable in relation to major powers may seek to develop independent deterrence capabilities more aggressively. Instead of reducing the nuclear threat, this could trigger a race to build greater deterrence.
Perhaps this is the most important part of the issue.
The post-Cold War world sought to preserve nuclear weapons as an exceptional option and a last resort for deterrence. But the more such rhetoric becomes part of everyday political disputes, the more blurred the boundary becomes between a “threat for deterrence” and a “threat of actual use.”
This trend could also be dangerous for the United States. Washington’s power does not rest solely on aircraft carriers, fighter jets and its nuclear arsenal. A significant part of American power derives from its political credibility and the trust of its allies.
If US allies come to believe that Washington’s decisions could drag them into wars whose course has slipped beyond their control, they may naturally seek more independent options. A nuclear threat may therefore appear to be a demonstration of strength in the short term, but over the long term it could signal a crisis in the management of power.
However, the issue cannot be reduced entirely to Trump himself. Trump may speak more bluntly, aggressively and unpredictably than many previous US presidents, but the challenges facing American foreign policy today existed before his presidency as well.
The central problem is the gap between America’s military power and its ability to translate that power into sustainable political outcomes. Washington can still strike targets in different parts of the world, but what happens after an attack? Does the other side surrender? Do America’s allies remain behind it? Does domestic public opinion accept the costs of war? And, most importantly, can the United States end a war at the point it chooses?
Ultimately, perhaps the most important message in Carlson’s remarks is that a serious debate has emerged even within the United States over the boundaries of military power.
Iran and the United States may confront each other across various arenas, but every time nuclear rhetoric enters the dispute, the scope of the danger extends beyond the two countries. The question is no longer simply what Trump says or how Iran responds. The deeper concern is that if nuclear threats become a normal part of foreign-policy language, who can guarantee that one day the line between threat and actual use will not be crossed?
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