En
EnglishAzərbaycanРусский
July 24, 2026

Analytical team

A Week of Deepening US–Iran Strikes as Oil Tops $100

The week of 17 to 24 July was among the most violent of the entire war. American forces struck Iran on thirteen consecutive nights and pushed deeper inland than at any earlier point, Iran fired missiles and drones back across five countries, the Houthis opened a second front by attacking Saudi tankers in the Red Sea, Brent crude climbed above $100 a barrel for the first time since May, and the United States lost its first troops to Iranian fire since March. By the morning of 24 July, as US forces completed that thirteenth straight night of bombing, Iran had once again rejected an American ceasefire offer. Almost five months after the war began with Operation Epic Fury on 28 February, the June truce that was meant to reopen the Strait of Hormuz is now dead in all but name, and the plain truth is that neither side is winning while neither is willing to stop.

What follows sets out how the week unfolded, what was damaged and who was killed, what Washington and Tehran are actually saying, and where the conflict appears to be heading.

How the week unfolded

If there is a single thread that ties the week together, it is that both sides stopped confining themselves to purely military targets and began going after the things a country needs simply to function. Ever since the June truce fell apart, US Central Command had been hitting Iranian military and maritime sites on a near-nightly basis, but around 17 July those strikes started reaching much further inland than before, striking cities like Ahvaz, Yazd and Lar in addition to the familiar coastal belt of Jask, Sirik, Bushehr, Bandar Abbas and Qeshm, and they increasingly landed on the ordinary machinery of the economy rather than on soldiers, hitting highway and railway bridges, a road tunnel, coastal radar stations, and the electrical grid. The American military described all of this as an effort to weaken Iran's ability to threaten shipping while it enforced a naval blockade of Iranian ports, a blockade it had reimposed on 14 July, but the practical effect was to bring the war home to Iranian civilians in a way the earlier phases had not.

Iran, unable to answer American firepower directly, chose instead to copy the same approach and turn it against the smaller Gulf states that host US forces, so that over the course of the week its missiles and drones struck or were shot down over Kuwait, Jordan, Bahrain, Iraq and Qatar. Then, on 23 July, the war spread wider still when the Iran-aligned Houthis of Yemen claimed to have hit two Saudi oil tankers in the Red Sea and moved to blockade Saudi ports, opening a second maritime chokepoint around the Bab el-Mandeb strait, which is precisely the route that shippers had been using to avoid the dangers of Hormuz, and by the end of the week at least seven vessels had already changed course to stay clear of it. What had started as a standoff over one narrow waterway was, within a matter of days, threatening two of them at once.

The sense of a steadily climbing ladder was hard to miss. American forces completed their ninth consecutive night of strikes on 19 July, a twelfth on 23 July, and a thirteenth on 24 July, and alongside the strikes themselves President Trump kept raising the stakes rhetorically, threatening at various points to seize Iran's Kharg Island oil terminal with ground troops, to bomb the deep-underground complex known as Pickaxe Mountain, and to destroy one Iranian bridge or power plant in return for every attack on shipping in the strait. Each of those threats pointed at targets — the country's main oil-export hub, its nuclear-linked sites, its national grid — whose destruction would be far harder to undo than anything that had been hit so far, which is part of what made the week feel less like a plateau and more like the approach to a cliff.

What was hit, and what it cost

The most telling damage of the week fell not on front-line military units but on the infrastructure that keeps people alive, and the clearest single example came in southern Iran, where a strike destroyed the raw-water intake station and the electrical transformer at the Bonji desalination plant west of Jask and left roughly 10,000 people across twenty villages without drinking water, according to Iran's national water company. American officials did not confirm that they had targeted the plant, and it is genuinely unclear whether it was hit on purpose, damaged by spillover from a strike on something nearby, or destroyed by mistake, but the consequence on the ground was the same either way. Around the same time Iran's Energy Ministry admitted for the first time in the entire war that the country's power infrastructure was under attack, and it went so far as to ask people in the sweltering southern provinces to conserve electricity, while a series of strikes on bridges near Bandar Abbas and Bandar-e Khamir appeared designed to sever Iran's most important port from the roads leading toward Tehran, one of which reportedly killed eight people.

Iran inflicted almost the mirror image of this damage on the opposite shore of the Gulf, setting two Kuwaiti power-and-desalination plants ablaze within the space of two days, injuring firefighters and workers in the process, and forcing Kuwait — a country that draws roughly nine-tenths of its drinking water from desalination — to shut down some of its generating units as a precaution. It is worth pausing on how bleak and how symmetrical this has become, because both governments are now methodically wrecking the water and power systems on either side of the same narrow sea, in a part of the world where desalination is not a luxury but the very thing that makes human settlement possible in the first place.

The human toll rose everywhere. For the United States, the week brought the first combat deaths from Iranian fire since March, when two soldiers — First Lieutenant Tyler Feehan, twenty-five, and Private Isabella Gonzales, nineteen — were killed in an Iranian strike on Muwaffaq Salti Air Base in Jordan, along with a third soldier, Sergeant Angel Rampersad, twenty-eight, while a fourth, Sergeant Michael Swinton, thirty, died in Iraq on 19 July during a controlled detonation of a downed Iranian drone at Erbil, and the number of American wounded climbed past four hundred, most of them suffering from traumatic brain injuries. Inside Iran, the authorities reported dozens killed and more than four hundred wounded in strikes since late June, with the death toll for this latest phase of the war put at around fifty, even as the cumulative figure for the whole conflict is placed at roughly 3,500 by Iranian bodies and at 6,000 or more by American and Israeli estimates, and a separate apparent Iranian strike killed at least nine people at a facility belonging to the Kurdish opposition group Komala in northern Iraq. All of these numbers come from parties with a stake in the outcome and are difficult to verify independently, and they should be read with that caution in mind.

For all the destruction on the ground, it is the economic damage that has begun to outrun the military story, because traffic through the Strait of Hormuz fell to single digits on some days against a pre-war norm of well over a hundred vessels, and Brent crude, which had been sitting near $88 a barrel in the middle of the week, pushed above $100 on 23 July for the first time since May as the new Red Sea front opened up. The cost to Washington is no longer an abstraction either, since Defense Secretary Pete Hegseth told a Senate hearing on 21 July that the war had already cost the United States $37.5 billion, a figure he disclosed as part of a request that set aside nearly $70 billion for the Iran war within a $1.5 trillion defense budget.

What Washington and Tehran say

Trump's language grew steadily harder over the week even as his negotiators quietly kept a line open to Tehran, and the mixture is worth understanding because it captures the whole American posture: he told the public that the United States was "winning big in Iran," he promised to hit Iranian bridges and power plants in return for every strike on shipping, and he raised the possibility of seizing Kharg Island and bombing Pickaxe Mountain, all while insisting that a deal remained available so long as Iran accepted it more or less on his terms. What complicates that picture is that he is now running into resistance at home, because on 23 July the House of Representatives voted 214 to 208, for the second time, to bar him from continuing the war without the approval of Congress, with four Republicans breaking ranks to join the majority. The resolution is a concurrent measure that carries no force of law, and a parallel effort in the Senate fell just short, but taken together the votes are a real sign of unease on Capitol Hill about how much the war is costing, how many Americans it is killing, and how far its boundaries keep expanding.

Tehran, for its part, has answered with open defiance from a leadership that pointedly stays out of sight. Supreme Leader Mojtaba Khamenei, who was elevated to the post in March after his father was killed in the opening strikes of the war, has still not been seen or heard from in public, so the regime's message has been carried instead by its advisers and commanders, chief among them Mohsen Rezaee, who warned that Iran would shift to "full-scale offensive operations" if the American strikes continued and that it would recognize "no political boundaries" when it did. Foreign Minister Abbas Araghchi, meanwhile, dismissed the American approach as "irrational, excessive, and hegemonic," and on 24 July Iran formally rejected a US ceasefire proposal that had been carried to Tehran by Iraqi Prime Minister Ali al-Zaidi, with Iranian officials explaining that they had no interest in a temporary arrangement that left the one question they actually care about — who controls the Strait of Hormuz — unanswered. At the same time, voices in the Iranian parliament grew louder in calling for the country to withdraw from the Nuclear Non-Proliferation Treaty and to strike the infrastructure of America's regional allies, and the judiciary announced that it had issued indictments against both Trump and Netanyahu.

The distance between these two positions is not a matter of tone or misunderstanding but something closer to a genuine deadlock, because Washington wants a strait that is safe and open and treats a settlement as possible only from a position of clear military dominance, while Tehran regards its ability to threaten that same strait as the single piece of leverage it has left and refuses to bargain it away in a truce it fully expects to be short-lived. As long as each side's minimum demand is the thing the other side is least able to give, it is hard to see where an agreement would even begin.

Regional spillover and the nuclear question

The most unsettling feature of the whole situation remains how far the fighting has spread beyond the two countries that started it, because Kuwait, Jordan, Bahrain, Qatar and Iraq have all now been on the receiving end of fire or have had to shoot it down, a child was wounded by falling debris in Doha, and the Houthi assault on Saudi tankers has drawn the Red Sea and the Bab el-Mandeb strait into a conflict that began hundreds of miles away, prompting the European Union to reinforce its own maritime mission in the region. Every additional country that gets pulled in raises the odds that a single strike killing large numbers of people forces a sudden and uncontrolled escalation that no one actually intended.

The nuclear dimension of the war stayed quiet this week, but it did not go away. No Iranian nuclear site was struck during the period, and the International Atomic Energy Agency has reported no evidence that Iran has resumed enriching uranium, yet the Agency still has no access to the facilities that were damaged earlier in the war, which means it has effectively lost track of a stockpile that is understood to contain enough near-weapons-grade material for something like ten bombs if it were enriched further. With Trump openly threatening to strike Pickaxe Mountain and with Iranian lawmakers pressing to leave the Non-Proliferation Treaty, the possibility of a sharp escalation centered on the nuclear program is still very much alive on both sides, even if it slipped into the background this particular week.

What comes next

The most honest thing that can be said is that the war has settled into a grinding stalemate in which each side is able to inflict serious pain on the other without being able to force any kind of decision. The United States can strike almost whenever and wherever it likes, and it has done real damage to Iran's infrastructure, and yet it still has not achieved the open, secure strait it says the whole campaign is about. Iran cannot match American firepower and has had to watch its ports, bridges and utilities battered night after night, and yet it has managed to keep the strait effectively closed and to pull half a dozen of its neighbors into the line of fire. Diplomacy, for now, exists only as a channel that both sides keep open even as they go on bombing through it, and Iran's flat rejection of the latest proposal is a fair measure of how little that channel is currently carrying.

Three things, more than any others, will decide whether the coming days bring some cooling off or another lurch upward. The first is the question of targets, because if the United States moves from merely threatening Kharg Island, the power grid and Pickaxe Mountain to actually striking them, it will cross a line from damage that can be repaired to damage that is strategic and lasting, and a direct hit on the grid could, by Iran's own signaling, be the trigger that sends the Houthis to close the Red Sea entirely. The second is the pull of deadlines, because Iranian officials have attached specific timelines to their threats of "full-scale offensive operations," and threats made that precisely tend to create their own pressure to follow through once the clock runs out. The third is the price of oil and the patience that lies behind it, because with Brent already above $100, with a squeeze now building at two chokepoints instead of one, and with the American war bill climbing toward $70 billion, it may in the end be the economic clock rather than the military one that finally moves the two governments.

For the moment, though, the safest conclusion is the same one that has held for several weeks, only more firmly than before: the war has no visible off-ramp, the diplomacy is on life support, and the decisions that will matter most are being taken in Tehran, in Washington, and in the Gulf capitals now sitting within range of Iran's missiles — and, more and more, in the shipping lanes through which the world's oil still has to pass.