US and Iran exchange strikes raising fears of wider conflict

There are thousands of civilians in Tehran and the surrounding provinces who live under the shadow of radar installations and drone sites, their safety contingent on the precision of foreign munitions and the restraint of their own government. There are military personnel stationed at bases in Kuwait who face the threat of retaliatory strikes, their lives held in the balance of diplomatic failures. The Geneva Conventions and their Additional Protocols exist to prevent this specific calculus of suffering, to ensure that even in the heat of conflict, the wounded are treated, the civilians are spared, and the means of warfare are limited. Is it being followed? The answer, as it has been since Solferino, is that the rules are present on paper but absent in practice, leaving a vacuum filled only by the immediate, brutal arithmetic of escalation.

When the United States bombed radar and drone sites in Iran, and when Tehran subsequently attacked a US air base in Kuwait, the immediate strategic narrative focused on deterrence, capability, and regional leverage. But this is the wrong lens. The correct lens is the humanitarian cost audit. We must look past the political theater to the ground where the consequences land. In Tehran, the bombing of infrastructure risks collateral damage to nearby residential areas, hospitals, and schools. The principle of distinction, enshrined in Article 48 of Additional Protocol I, requires parties to distinguish between civilian objects and military objectives. Radar sites are military objectives. But are they embedded in civilian infrastructure? If so, the obligation to take all feasible precautions to spare civilians becomes paramount. Did the US provide adequate warning? Were evacuation routes clear? These are not rhetorical questions; they are operational necessities. If the answer is no, then the violation is not merely a breach of etiquette but a failure of the institutional framework designed to protect human life.

In Kuwait, the attack on a US air base presents a different but equally grave challenge. Air bases are legitimate military targets, but they are often located near civilian populations or critical infrastructure. The principle of proportionality, outlined in Article 51(5)(b) of Additional Protocol I, prohibits attacks that may be expected to cause incidental loss of civilian life, injury to civilians, damage to civilian objects, or a combination thereof, which would be excessive in relation to the concrete and direct military advantage anticipated. The question is not whether the base was a valid target, but whether the method of attack respected the limits of proportionality. Did the strike cause disproportionate harm to nearby civilians? Were medical facilities in the vicinity protected? The absence of detailed reporting on civilian casualties in Kuwait suggests a failure of transparency, which is itself a violation of the spirit of humanitarian law. Without data, there can be no accountability. Without accountability, there can be no constraint.

The escalation between the US and Iran risks a wider conflict, affecting regional stability and international security. But stability is not the same as humanity. A stable war is still a war, and war is inherently destructive. The goal of the Geneva Conventions is not to make war palatable, but to limit its horrors. To do this, we need more than good intentions. We need institutions. The International Committee of the Red Cross and the Red Crescent movement exist to fill the gap between the combatants and the victims. They provide neutral medical care, visit prisoners of war, and facilitate family reunifications. But their effectiveness depends on access. Are humanitarian workers allowed into Tehran to assess the damage? Are they allowed into Kuwait to treat the wounded? If not, then the institutional framework is broken. The emblem on the armband means nothing if it does not grant safe passage.

The cognitive fingerprint of this crisis is one of institutional failure. The rules are clear. The conventions are signed. The protocols are in place. Yet, the suffering continues. Why? Because the actors involved prioritize strategic advantage over humanitarian obligation. They treat the rules as optional, to be followed only when convenient. This is not a new phenomenon. At Solferino, the armies fought without regard for the wounded, leaving them to die in the sun. It took a businessman with a vision to change that. It took decades of negotiation, diplomacy, and persistence to build the framework that exists today. But the framework is fragile. It requires constant maintenance, constant vigilance, and constant enforcement.

The human cost of this escalation is not abstract. It is measured in the number of wounded who do not receive timely medical care, in the number of displaced families who lose their homes, in the number of prisoners who are not treated humanely. These are not statistics; they are obligations. Each wounded soldier is a patient, not an enemy. Each civilian is a protected person, not a casualty of war. The principle of impartiality is not a moral aspiration; it is an operational requirement. Aid must reach everyone who needs it, regardless of which side they are on. If it does not, then the system has failed.

We must ask what is needed to make the rules functional again. It is not enough to sign conventions. We must monitor compliance. We must document violations. We must hold violators accountable. This requires political will, which is often lacking. It requires institutional capacity, which is often underfunded. It requires public pressure, which is often distracted. But without these elements, the rules are merely words on paper. They do not constrain the powerful. They do not protect the weak. They do not save lives.

The escalation between the US and Iran is a test of the rules-based order. It is a test of whether the institutions built after Solferino can withstand the pressures of modern conflict. If they fail, then we return to the chaos of Solferino, where forty thousand men died without care. If they succeed, then we preserve the possibility of humanity in the midst of inhumanity. The choice is not between peace and war. The choice is between order and chaos, between constraint and excess, between life and death. The rules exist. The question is whether we have the courage to follow them.

The specific obligation now is to ensure humanitarian access. The ICRC and other humanitarian organizations must be allowed to operate freely in both Iran and Kuwait. They must be able to assess the damage, treat the wounded, and document the violations. This is not a favor to the victims; it is a duty of the belligerents. The Geneva Conventions are not suggestions; they are laws. To violate them is to undermine the very foundation of international security. The stakes are not just regional stability; they are the integrity of the humanitarian system itself. If the system breaks, there is no safety net for anyone. The suffering will be uncounted, the violations unrecorded, and the victims forgotten. This is the legacy of Solferino that we must avoid. We must count the cost. We must name the rules. We must enforce the limits. Anything less is a betrayal of the promise made to the wounded.