The whispers are getting louder. Sir John Bowen, the former head of the Joint Intelligence Committee, has dropped a bombshell. His warning: the emerging US-Iran nuclear deal is a stark reminder that Britain paid a heavy price for a war it never fully understood.
Bowen’s intervention is not a random shot. It’s a calculated move from a man who knows where the bodies are buried. He’s pointing to the 2003 invasion of Iraq, but his real target is the current Gulf posture. The message is clear: Washington’s realpolitik has left London exposed.
Let’s peel back the layers. Bowen’s memo, circulated to a select few in Whitehall, argues that the US-Iran negotiations betray a fundamental shift in American priorities. The US is willing to cut a deal with Tehran, effectively legitimising a regime it spent decades demonising. For Britain, which committed troops, treasure, and credibility to the Gulf, this is a brutal reality check.
What was the point of it all? That’s the question Bowen is forcing into the open. The Iraq War, the ongoing naval patrols, the bases in Bahrain and Oman. All justified as part of a strategy to contain Iran. Now, Washington is courting the ayatollahs. The strategic goalposts have been moved, and the UK is left scrambling.
The timing is no accident. Bowen knows the government is fragile. The prime minister is struggling to hold the party together. A rebellion is brewing on the backbenches, and not just from the usual suspects. MPs from both wings are asking the same question: what are we doing in the Gulf?
Bowen’s warning taps into a deeper anxiety. The cost of the Iraq War, both human and financial, has never been fully accounted for. The Chilcot inquiry laid it bare. But the legacy continues: the UK’s reputation in the Middle East is tarnished, its military overstretched, and its dependence on US strategy increasingly risky.
Number 10’s response has been telling. A terse statement affirming the “special relationship” but no denial of Bowen’s core argument. The silence from the Foreign Office is deafening. They know he’s right.
This isn’t just about history. The current deployment of HMS Queen Elizabeth to the region is now under scrutiny. Is the carrier strike group a show of force or a symbol of misplaced loyalty? Bowen’s note suggests the latter. He implies that the UK’s naval presence is more about keeping Washington happy than protecting British interests.
Let’s be blunt: the US-Iran deal, if it happens, will be a game-changer. It will restructure the Middle East. And Britain, the junior partner, will have to adapt. But Bowen’s point is that the adaptation comes at a cost. A cost that was never properly debated in Parliament. A cost that the public never truly sanctioned.
The rebellion is spreading. Labour MPs are sharpening their questions. Tory eurosceptics smell blood. The prime minister’s office is in damage control mode. But Bowen’s memo has a life of its own. It’s being shared, dissected, and leaked to journalists like me.
What happens next? Expect a flurry of parliamentary questions. Expect a select committee hearing. And expect the prime minister to be cornered into a statement. The game is up. The US-Iran deal has exposed the uncomfortable truth: Britain’s Gulf war was a gamble that didn’t pay off.
Bowen’s warning is a wake-up call. But for whom? The government? The military? The public? Maybe all of them. The cost of the Gulf war is not just financial. It’s a debt of trust that is now coming due.
