A bayonet between a Theocrat and an Autocrat by Thanos Kalamidas

Let’s face it: geopolitics has never been a playground for saints. But now, in 2025, we’re being asked to cheer for one of two devils in disguise and depending on which news outlet you frequent, you might be told one smells of roses and the other of brimstone. In reality, they both reek. And here we are, caught between a delusional demagogue with a golden toilet seat and a mullah with a nuclear chip on his shoulder.

America, once the (perhaps hypocritical) torchbearer of democratic ideals, is again marching toward war. And not just any war, a war wrapped in the oily black ribbon of ambition, with a strong whiff of re-election desperation. On the other side, Iran, led by its ever-defiant and brutal theocracy, continues to act like human rights are merely suggestions printed on Western napkins.

So where do we stand? With whom do we align our moral compass when both poles are rusted?

Let’s start with President Trump, 2025 edition. A man who has successfully turned democracy into a one-man show, complete with chorus girls, hats, and a Twitter knockoff platform where facts go to die. His return to the White House was less a comeback than a hostile takeover, dressed in red caps and fueled by voter fatigue.

Trump, in his infinite subtlety (sarcasm included), has turned the Iran conflict into both a ratings opportunity and a diplomatic stage show. You’d think by now the American public would be weary of his Nixonian paranoid approach to foreign affairs, except Nixon didn’t hawk steaks and NFTs.

Under his renewed administration, the rhetoric has become more cartoonishly exaggerated: Iran is the “axis of evil,” and Trump, presumably, is the God-appointed saviour. His speeches blend national security, evangelical dog whistles, and good old-fashioned oil greed into one dangerous cocktail. Drink it and you might invade a country.

But before we nominate Iran for a Nobel Peace Prize, let’s be equally clear: Tehran is no victim. This is a regime that treats dissent like an infectious disease. Speak freely and you may disappear. Dance and you may be whipped. Love someone the clerics disapprove of, and you might end up dead.

While Iranian citizens yearn for freedom, their rulers tighten the screws. The morality police is less about morals and more about maintaining an iron grip. The regime is guided not by spiritual enlightenment but by political survival wrapped in holy garb. Every time the West confronts Iran, the ayatollahs double down, using the threat of imperialism to rally domestic loyalty through fear.

Let’s not forget the nuclear standoff, either. Iran has treated the JCPOA deal like a buffet—take what you want, ignore what you don’t, and blame the waiter. And yet, in their paranoia, they often seem to mirror the very authoritarianism they claim to oppose.

The great dilemma, the Shakespearean conundrum, is not about victory. It’s about complicity.

Do we cheer for a democracy in decay simply because it wears a star-spangled banner? Do we quietly hope a theocratic regime collapses while knowing the vacuum may be even worse? Or do we accept the nauseating truth: this is a war without moral clarity, where choosing sides is like selecting the lesser nightmare.

In past wars, we told ourselves tales of righteousness. Even if imperfect, we believed we were fighting for something. Now, we are dragged into another conflict, a re-election war and a distraction war, while citizens on both sides suffer. Iranian mothers fear for their sons; American mothers watch their sons deployed to God-knows-where again.

And let us not forget the third victim: the international community. Europe, once smug in its neutrality, is now torn between gas contracts and diplomatic principles. China grins behind the curtain. Russia stirs the pot with well-timed leaks. The rest of the world? Holding its breath.

The real enemy isn’t Iran or the US government; it’s the global descent into binary thinking.

This war forces us into a false dichotomy: pick one tyrant to support, or risk being labelled a traitor. But what if we reject both? What if we say: “No, we will not cheer for either the orange messiah nor the black-turbaned jailor.”

What if we acknowledge that war, in this context, is nothing but two egos dragging humanity behind them, one waving a Bible dipped in cheeseburgers, the other quoting Quran verses as prison doors slam shut?

There are no easy answers, but silence is complicity. We must oppose Trump’s populist imperialism and Iran’s theocratic oppression with equal fervour. We must support the people, not the regimes.

Because somewhere between the White House press room and the shadowy corridors of Tehran’s prisons, the voices of the innocent are being drowned out.

And those voices don’t chant "Death to America" or "Make America Great Again."

They whisper one thing: "Please, let us live with dignity."