Washington wanted a clean narrative: precision blows against Iran’s war machine, not images of black rain falling on ordinary Tehran residents. Israel’s decision to torch fuel depots in the capital has forced the Biden administration into an uncomfortable choice between backing an ally’s strategy and owning the humanitarian and political blowback across the region.
Fuel strikes that look less like tactics and more like punishment
In early March, Israel expanded its campaign in Iran by striking around 30 fuel storage facilities in and around Tehran, including major depots that serve the capital’s civilian population. Axios reported that U.S. officials, though notified in advance, were shocked by the scope of the attacks and privately described Washington’s reaction as a “WTF” moment. According to Axios and follow-on coverage by Anadolu Agency, senior U.S. officials warned Israeli counterparts that hitting oil storage went well beyond the target set of immediate military infrastructure.
On the ground, the images undercut the careful messaging about “surgical” strikes. New York Times reporters described thick, toxic smoke blanketing Tehran and nearby cities, with residents reporting oil-slicked rain falling from the sky after the depots burned for hours. NPR highlighted that these were the first direct strikes on energy assets essential to Iran’s civilian economy, not just the Revolutionary Guard’s launch sites or air defense batteries. However Israel frames it, the optics are of fuel tanks and refineries going up in flames over apartment blocks.
Israel insists the targets are legitimate. Military spokespeople told international outlets that the fuel depots are dual-use infrastructure sustaining Iran’s missile and drone campaigns, and that degrading them shortens the war. But even sympathetic analysts quoted in Axios concede the line between weakening the regime and punishing the population has blurred. The more the fires spread through Iran’s energy system, the harder it is for Washington to argue this is purely about neutralizing military capabilities.
The U.S. wanted deterrence, not blackouts and black rain
From the start of this conflict, the U.S. tried to frame “Operation Epic Fury” as a demonstration of resolve that would reset deterrence without dragging Washington into another forever war. Pentagon briefings emphasized strikes on radar sites, missile bunkers and command-and-control hubs. Fuel depots serving Tehran commuters were never part of the selling job. When Axios revealed the extent of Israel’s fuel strikes, U.S. officials worried aloud that the campaign was drifting away from the script they had presented to Congress and voters.
Those worries are not just moral; they are strategic. Analysts at the Soufan Center and Al-Monitor argue that destroying a country’s energy backbone has historically been a blunt instrument with unpredictable consequences. Iran’s economy depends on tens of billions of dollars in oil and gas exports, and New York Times reporting notes that previous attacks on pipelines and power plants produced rolling blackouts, water cuts and school closures that hit civilians hardest. What looks like clever leverage in the war room can look like collective punishment when families queue for fuel and electricity.
Inside the administration, Axios reports that Trump advisers have privately complained that burning Iranian oil storage undercuts one of their domestic political priorities: keeping global energy prices in check. U.S. officials told Anadolu and Reuters they fear a scenario where Israel claims tactical victory while Washington absorbs the blame for $200-per-barrel oil and scenes of humanitarian crisis beamed across Arabic-language television. That is not the version of deterrence they thought they signed up for.
Rally-round-the-flag dynamics are real, not theoretical
Supporters of the strikes argue that worsening economic pain will finally pry ordinary Iranians away from a deeply unpopular regime. But the polling does not back that up. Surveys by the University of Maryland and Iranian partners after earlier rounds of U.S.-Israeli strikes found a classic rally-round-the-flag effect: majorities credited the government with preventing food and fuel shortages, and support for the missile and nuclear programs actually increased. Far from sparking regime collapse, external attacks made it easier for hardliners to paint dissent as treason.
There is also a broader historical warning here. Political scientists studying the rise of the Nazi Party in Germany have shown that austerity and economic crisis did not topple authoritarian movements; they strengthened them. Communities hardest hit by cuts were often the ones that swung most decisively toward extremists promising order and revenge. That is not a one-to-one map onto Iran, but it underscores how naive it is to assume that burning fuel depots in Tehran will somehow produce a liberal democratic uprising.
Iran’s own reaction reinforces the point. As Reuters and Iran-focused outlets have reported, the regime responded to earlier infrastructure strikes not by retreating but by escalating against Gulf energy facilities and threatening to close the Strait of Hormuz. Every oil depot that goes up in flames in Tehran gives the Revolutionary Guards fresh justification for striking refineries in Saudi Arabia or LNG plants in Qatar, dragging more actors into the conflict and tightening the economic screws on the very Western publics Washington is trying to reassure.
Hitting the taps risks losing the story
The White House has been careful to describe the war as a limited, necessary response to genuine security threats. But as CNN, the Guardian and other outlets have documented, the administration’s messaging on Iran has already been scattershot, veering between imminent nuclear breakout, missile threats, support for proxies and loose talk of regime change. Fuel strikes that look like economic warfare make that narrative mess even harder to sustain. It is one thing to argue you are disabling launchers aimed at U.S. forces; it is another to explain why the capital is choking on black smoke.
This is where narrative and strategy collide. Experts quoted by the New Humanitarian and the New York Times warn that crippling Iran’s energy sector could take decades to reverse and might actually make any future democratic transition ungovernable. A post-regime government inheriting wrecked refineries, shattered grids and a furious population would struggle to deliver basic services, let alone reform. In that scenario, the U.S. would own not just the humanitarian fallout but the long-term instability its ally helped create.
Meanwhile, the humanitarian story is writing itself. Aid agencies are already warning about the health effects of toxic smoke, potential fuel shortages and the impact on hospitals and water systems. Every day that Israel keeps striking depots, the video feed shifts from missile launches and precision bombs to children under darkened skies and residents wiping oil from their windowsills. That is the version of the war that will lodge in the regional memory, regardless of how many talking points the State Department circulates.
What This Actually Means
Israel’s decision to go after Iran’s fuel infrastructure has pushed the war into a domain where the costs are primarily borne by civilians and the political story is harder for Washington to control. For all the talk about weakening the regime, the early evidence suggests these strikes are more likely to harden public opinion inside Iran, justify escalatory retaliation abroad and saddle the U.S. with ownership of a humanitarian crisis it did not directly plan.
By letting its closest ally blur the line between military targets and civilian lifelines, Washington is narrowing its own room to maneuver. It can either publicly distance itself from the fuel campaign and risk a visible rift with Jerusalem, or quietly accept collective punishment as the price of partnership and absorb the reputational hit across the Global South. Neither option looks like the clean, limited show of force that was sold at the outset.
In practice, the fuel strikes are turning a war that was supposed to be about deterrence into a test of whether the U.S. is willing to underwrite strategies that treat civilian infrastructure as fair game. Once that norm is accepted against an adversary like Iran, it becomes harder to credibly oppose similar tactics when other powers decide to scorch an enemy’s energy system. The choice Washington faces is not just about this week’s headlines; it’s about the kind of war it is prepared to own.
Sources
Axios; NPR; The New York Times; The New Humanitarian; The Soufan Center.