The Indignity of a Divine Disagreement
By Nigel Featherstonehaugh-Smythe
WASHINGTON D.C. – June 17, 2025 – It is a lamentable feature of the modern age that even conflicts of the most serious international consequence, when stripped of their diplomatic finery, often resemble a rather juvenile squabble on a dusty playground. One has spent the past several days observing the rather noisy and unpleasant state of affairs in the Middle East, where the nations of Israel and Iran have decided to engage in a spirited, if deeply destructive, exchange of military hardware. While the official explanations are labyrinthine, the core of the disagreement appears to be a rather schoolyard-esque theological dispute, which a younger, more vulgar colleague has termed the “my god can beat up your god” beef.
The opening salvo in this contest of divine pugilism was, one is told, a series of Israeli strikes targeting Iranian military and nuclear facilities, including a significant attack on the Defense Ministry headquarters in Tehran. The official justification, of course, was the preemption of a potential nuclear weapons program, a capability the Iranians have consistently and officially denied pursuing since 2003. This is the geopolitical text.
The theological subtext, however, is far more potent. The deployment of advanced F-35 fighter jets in such a manner is not merely a military action; it is a declaration. It is one side stating, with the roar of afterburners, that their deity has blessed them with superior technology and therefore, a superior moral and strategic authority. “Our God,” the contrails seem to write across the sky, “has provided us with these magnificent, divinely-sanctioned metallic angels, and He has ordained their use against those who would dare challenge His chosen people’s regional preeminence.”
Naturally, such a bold proclamation cannot go unanswered. Iran’s retaliatory missile strikes, which have tragically claimed the lives of civilians, including children, in places like Bat Yam, serve as the vigorous and fiery rebuttal. Each explosion is a percussive argument stating, “No, it is our God who is the true and formidable protector, and He shall not suffer such insults to His dominion.” The success of their own missiles is presented as proof of their God’s favor, while the failure of Israeli defenses is seen as a sign of their opponent’s celestial weakness.
Into this fray step the world’s headmasters. The French President and China’s foreign minister have made urgent, almost pleading, calls for de-escalation, playing the part of the weary teacher demanding the children stop throwing rocks at one another. Meanwhile, our own President Trump, in his self-appointed role as the supremely confident older boy who owns the playground, has adopted a fascinating posture. He has publicly stated that the United States had “nothing to do” with starting the fight, while simultaneously boasting to allies that he could “easily get a deal done” to end it. It is a masterful display of claiming both plausible deniability and ultimate authority.
The entire affair has devolved into a primitive and undignified spectacle, with casualty numbers becoming little more than points scored in a grim, celestial tally. It is a theological argument conducted with explosives, a debate over divine favor measured in collateral damage. One is left to wonder if this entire conflict could be resolved more efficiently with a simple, binding arm-wrestling match between the respective deities, rather than this messy and terribly loud business with jets and missiles. It would certainly be more civilized.
