Western hegemony and the language of violence

The war on Iran has rapidly become one of the most consequential conflicts since the Second World War. On February 28, the United States and Israel launched coordinated strikes across Iran, targeting critical sites and eliminating the senior Iranian leadership. The war has since expanded with missile and drone attacks, causing widespread destruction. Disruption of ship movement through the Strait of Hormuz has resulted in a pronounced volatility in global oil markets. Governments worldwide are observing the situation with increasing concern. The conflict has now entered a more unpredictable phase with discussion of negotiations occurring alongside preparations for a potential military escalation, even the possible deployment of American ground forces.

While the exercise of military power in this war is evident, the narratives that accompany it raise deeper questions. Why is Iran characterised in Western discourse as a rogue state and a threat to international order, whereas the U.S. frames its own use of force as lawful, defensive and stabilising? Furthermore, how has this narrative achieved such widespread acceptance in international politics?

The explanation lies not only in the distribution of power but also in the processes through which knowledge about international politics has been produced.

Many key terms used in international politics appear neutral. Terms such as “terrorism,” “rogue state”, or “responsible power” seem to offer simple descriptions of behaviour. In practice, however, these terms frequently serve as political labels. Powerful states shape how these terms are used. They classify states and actors into moral categories and usually determine what constitutes acceptable force and what counts as illegitimate violence.

This pattern is visible in the ongoing war on Iran, where language constructs a moral hierarchy regarding the use of violence.

The power of discourse

For decades, the linguist and political thinker Noam Chomsky has been among the most prominent critics of this double standard. He contends that the label “rogue state” often reflects political power rather than consistent legal criteria. If uniform standards were applied, major powers themselves may be classified as rogue actors due to repeated violations of international law and their support for violent proxy groups abroad.

Chomsky references the U.S. involvement in the Contra war in Nicaragua during the 1980s. The International Court of Justice ruled that Washington’s actions amounted to an illegal use of force and ordered it to pay reparations. The U.S. rejected the ruling and vetoed a UN resolution calling upon states to comply with international law. Such incidents show how powerful states can evade the labels they impose on others.

Understanding the persistence of these patterns requires moving beyond the immediate geopolitics of West Asia to examine how international relations developed as a field of knowledge.

Palestinian scholar Edward Said offered one of the most influential critiques of this process in his book Orientalism. Said argued that Western scholarship has historically portrayed Eastern societies as irrational, emotional, dangerous, and fundamentally distinct from the West, which is portrayed as rational and civilised. These representations functioned not merely as stereotypes but as a system of knowledge that helped justify dominance. The ability to characterise a country often correlates with the power to control or discipline it.

This pattern persists in contemporary debates about Iran and the wider Islamic world. Iran is often presented not simply as a strategic rival but as a civilisational threat. The regime is often described as irrational or fanatical rather than as a state pursuing strategic interests similar to other states. Once this image becomes dominant, military action can be framed as necessary protection rather than aggression.

Why the narrative persists

Critics of U.S. foreign policy often highlight a fundamental contradiction. The U.S. presents itself as the guardian of international law. Yet, in practice, it has often acted outside those very rules. The 2003 invasion of Iraq, conducted without UN Security Council authorisation, exemplifies this inconsistency. Similar concerns arise in relation to targeted killings, covert operations, and support for armed groups in various regions.

The ongoing war against Iran raises similar concerns. Air strikes have targeted infrastructure and high-ranking officials, resulting in civilian casualties. These operations are at odds with the UN Charter, which permits the use of force only in self-defence or with Security Council approval. However, these actions are seldom characterised as violations of international law in mainstream Western discourse. Instead, they are framed as preventive self-defence or stabilising interventions.

This contrast highlights the power of narrative. The same act can be interpreted as either aggression or a security measure, depending on the actor. When Western powers employ force, the prevailing narratives emphasise deterrence and order. In contrast, when others use force, the discourse shifts to terms such as “terrorism” and threats posed by “rogue states”.

This disparity is related to how knowledge about international politics is produced. Most of the institutions that shape global debates are concentrated in North America and Europe. They set the terms. Ideas that emerge from Western political debates often become global norms. Scholars and policymakers in the non-Western world may challenge these ideas, but they often have limited ability to reshape the intellectual frameworks developed elsewhere.

The result is a subtle but powerful imbalance. Western states possess not only superior military and economic power but also discursive power. They shape the narrative through which global politics is understood.

The narratives of the Iran war

The war on Iran shows this clearly. It is not only about missiles and strikes. It is also about legitimacy. Iran is accused of destabilising the region through its nuclear and missile programmes and support for proxy forces. Conversely, American and Israeli strikes are being presented as preventive or defensive measures.

Both sides claim legitimacy, but only one narrative tends to dominate the global discourse. This does not mean Iran is beyond criticism. The Iranian regime has its own record of repression and regional interventions. The point is about the unequal standards through which violence is judged.

Language, therefore, becomes part of the mechanism of power. It shapes how wars are interpreted and whose actions appear legitimate. Terms such as “terrorism”, “rogue state”, and “security threat” are shaped by power.

Chomsky has argued that the term “rogue state” serves less as an objective description and more as a political weapon. It is often applied to those who resist American power, not necessarily to those who violate international law more consistently. Once a state is labelled a “rogue state”, extraordinary measures become easier to justify. Sanctions appear as discipline. Assassinations appear as pre-emptive action. Military strikes appear as stabilisation.

The war on Iran may eventually end through diplomacy or exhaustion. But the larger issue will remain. As long as the institutions that shape international discourse remain concentrated in a few powerful countries, the language of legitimacy will reflect their interests.

In international politics, the struggle is not only over sovereignty, territory and geopolitical advantages. It is also a struggle over meaning. And the side that controls the language of violence controls the narrative of the war.

The writer is a professor and the Director of the MMAJ Academy of International Studies, Jamia Millia Islamia, New Delhi. Views expressed are personal.

Published – April 02, 2026 12:20 am IST