What would Winston Churchill make of war with Iran?

When Donald Trump criticised Keir Starmer for failing to sufficiently support American and Israeli operations against Iran, he did so with a historical flourish. “This is not Winston Churchill that we’re dealing with,” he complained.

The implication was clear: Churchill would have stood shoulder to shoulder with Washington in a confrontation with Tehran. The remark invites an obvious question: what would Churchill have made of war with Iran?

The answer is not as straightforward as Trump’s comparison suggests. Churchill’s record shows a mixture of hawkish rhetoric, strategic caution and a constant concern with maintaining Anglo-American unity. Far from embodying a simple instinct for confrontation, he tended to see war and diplomacy as inextricably linked.

Churchill’s famous 1946 speech in Fulton, Missouri, is a case in point. During this address, he warned that an “iron curtain” had descended across Europe. But the speech – formally titled The Sinews of Peace – was not simply a call to arms against Soviet expansion. Churchill simultaneously emphasised the need for understanding between adversaries and the importance of strengthening the United Nations. His core message was that peace could best be preserved if the western powers demonstrated sufficient unity and strength to deter aggression.

Iran already featured in the geopolitical crisis surrounding that speech. At the time, Soviet troops had failed to withdraw from northern Iran despite wartime agreements. The episode formed part of the early tensions that would harden into the cold war. Churchill therefore already viewed Iran through the lens of great-power rivalry.

That perspective had deep roots. During the second world war, Churchill had travelled to Tehran in 1943 to meet Franklin D. Roosevelt and Joseph Stalin at the first conference of the allied “big three”. The gathering took place in the capital of Iran because the country had become a crucial logistical corridor through which allied supplies flowed to the Soviet Union.

For Churchill, the conference was a sobering experience. Roosevelt increasingly cultivated Stalin’s goodwill, sometimes at Britain’s expense. Afterwards Churchill reflected ruefully that he had sat “between the great Russian bear … and the great American buffalo,” while Britain resembled “the poor little British donkey”. The remark captured his growing awareness that Britain was no longer one of the world’s dominant powers.

That realisation reinforced a central element of Churchill’s postwar strategy: the cultivation of an enduring Anglo-American partnership. His call at Fulton for a “special relationship” between the British Commonwealth and the United States was not a mere rhetorical gesture. It was an attempt to anchor Britain’s future security within the emerging American-led order.

The irony of a Churchill reference

But Churchill’s thinking about Iran did not stop with cold war diplomacy. In 1953, during his second premiership, Britain and the US supported a covert operation that overthrew Iranian prime minister Mohammad Mosaddegh and restored the authority of Shah Mohammad Reza Pahlavi. The coup was organised largely by the CIA, under the direction of Kermit Roosevelt Jr., but Churchill enthusiastically backed the plan. When Roosevelt later described the operation to him at Downing Street, the ageing prime minister reportedly declared that he would gladly have served under his command in such a venture.

That episode suggests that Churchill could certainly favour forceful action when he believed western interests were threatened. Yet it also highlights a historical irony. The overthrow of Mosaddegh became one of the central grievances invoked by Iran’s revolutionary leaders after the Iranian revolution. Since 1979, the Islamic Republic has repeatedly invoked foreign intervention – particularly the Anglo-American coup – to legitimise its rule and to portray itself as the defender of Iranian sovereignty against external domination.

In other words, the legacy of western interference in Iran has become one of the regime’s most powerful political weapons.

Churchill was well aware that wars and interventions could produce unintended consequences. Reflecting on his experiences as a young officer during the Boer war, he later wrote that once the signal for conflict was given, statesmen lost control of events. War became subject to “malignant Fortune, ugly surprises, awful miscalculations”. This was not the sentiment of a pacifist. But it was the observation of someone who had seen how quickly political decisions could unleash forces that no government could fully control.

What would Winston do?

How might these instincts translate to the present crisis? Churchill would almost certainly have regarded Iran’s regime with deep suspicion. His cold war mindset inclined him to see international politics in terms of ideological confrontation and strategic balance. He might well have argued that weakness in the face of aggressive regimes invited further challenges.

At the same time, Churchill rarely believed that military action alone could resolve geopolitical disputes. His preferred approach was to combine firmness with diplomacy – to negotiate from strength while maintaining channels of communication with adversaries. Even at the height of the cold war he hoped that a position of western strength might eventually persuade the Soviet leadership to strike a bargain.

Above all, Churchill believed that Britain’s influence depended on maintaining close alignment with the US. But that alignment, in his mind, was meant to shape American power rather than simply echo it. The “special relationship” was supposed to be a partnership, not a blank cheque.

Trump’s invocation of Churchill therefore rests on a simplified image of the wartime leader as an instinctive advocate of military action. The historical record reveals a more complicated figure: a strategist who believed in strength, certainly, but also in diplomacy, alliances and the careful management of great-power rivalries.

If Churchill were alive today, he might indeed be urging western governments to demonstrate resolve. But he would probably also recognise that Iran’s political system has been forged in the memory of past foreign interventions – and that any new conflict would risk reinforcing the very forces it seeks to weaken.

Churchill once observed that war, once unleashed, rarely follows the tidy paths imagined by those who start it. That warning may be as relevant as any of his more famous phrases.

Richard Toye receives funding from The Leverhulme Trust.