The strikes gave him a way to reframe the conversation entirely.
Em fins de maio de 2026, um especialista em relações internacionais da Universidade de Brasília propôs uma leitura incômoda dos ataques americano-israelenses ao Irã: que a força militar, neste caso, não foi convocada para resolver um conflito, mas para encobrir um. Quando líderes enfrentam crises domésticas sem solução fácil, a história registra uma tentação recorrente — transformar pressão interna em confronto externo, e assim trocar a pergunta que o público faz. O que está em jogo não é apenas a segurança do Oriente Médio, mas a integridade dos processos democráticos que deveriam governar o uso da força.
- Netanyahu governava um gabinete fraturado enquanto o conflito em Gaza acumulava mortes e condenações internacionais — o ataque ao Irã deslocou o holofote de Gaza para Teerã, ao menos por um momento.
- Trump enfrentava turbulências políticas internas que exigiam distração; uma ação militar dramática reorientou o noticiário e energizou sua base eleitoral.
- A contradição mais reveladora: autoridades haviam declarado o programa nuclear iraniano destruído após ataques anteriores — e agora atacavam de novo, expondo a fragilidade dessas afirmações.
- O analista Juliano Cortinhas argumenta que o objetivo real das negociações e dos ataques é adiar a crise, não resolvê-la — empurrando o problema para além das eleições de meio de mandato americanas em novembro.
- O ciclo se perpetua: sem solução genuína à vista, a escalada tende a se repetir sempre que a pressão doméstica exigir um novo inimigo externo.
No final de maio, Juliano Cortinhas, professor de relações internacionais da Universidade de Brasília, ofereceu uma interpretação dos ataques conjuntos dos Estados Unidos e Israel ao Irã que ia além dos detalhes militares. A pergunta central que ele colocava era mais simples e mais incômoda: que crises domésticas esses líderes tentavam fazer desaparecer?
Netanyahu governava um gabinete instável, corroído por divisões internas. Mais grave ainda era o conflito em curso na Palestina — descrito por Cortinhas como genocídio —, que acumulava críticas internacionais e gerava um constrangimento moral permanente. Ao pivotar para o Irã, ao reencadrar o conflito como um enfrentamento com uma ameaça regional, Netanyahu conseguia deslocar o olhar do mundo de Gaza para Teerã. Trump, por sua vez, navegava suas próprias turbulências internas: uma ação militar de grande escala dominaria o noticiário, mobilizaria sua base e afastaria a atenção dos problemas que se acumulavam em casa.
Cortinhas, porém, era cético quanto a qualquer resolução real. Ele apontou uma contradição reveladora: no ciclo anterior de ataques, autoridades haviam declarado o programa nuclear iraniano destruído — e agora atacavam novamente. Se a ameaça havia sido neutralizada, por que a necessidade de uma segunda rodada? A resposta, segundo ele, era que tanto as negociações quanto as ações militares não visavam resolver o problema, mas adiá-lo — empurrando a crise para além das eleições de meio de mandato americanas em novembro.
O que emergiu da análise foi o retrato de dois líderes usando a força militar não como solução, mas como válvula de escape — uma forma de aliviar a pressão doméstica fabricando um inimigo externo. Os ataques eram reais, mas a lógica subjacente era fundamentalmente política. A questão que permanecia sem resposta era o que aconteceria quando as eleições passassem e a distração não fosse mais necessária.
In late May, an international relations scholar at the University of Brasília offered a reading of the joint American and Israeli strikes on Iran that moved past the military details to ask a simpler question: what domestic problems were these leaders trying to make disappear?
Juliano Cortinhas, who teaches international relations, told reporters that the timing and scale of the attacks could not be understood in isolation. The strikes, he argued, were political theater—a way for both Donald Trump and Benjamin Netanyahu to redirect public attention away from the mounting crises each faced at home. To understand what happened, you had to see the whole picture: not just the Iran question, but the entire Middle Eastern landscape, and the pressures bearing down on both governments from within their own borders.
Netanyahu was under siege. His government was unstable, fractured by internal disagreements. More pressing still was the ongoing conflict in Palestine, which Cortinhas described plainly as genocide—a characterization that had drawn condemnation both from within Israel and from the international community. The Palestinian crisis was a wound that would not close, a source of constant criticism and moral reckoning. By pivoting to Iran, by framing the conflict as a confrontation with a regional threat rather than an occupation, Netanyahu could shift the world's gaze. The international spotlight would move from Gaza to Tehran. The pressure would ease, at least temporarily.
Trump faced his own domestic turbulence. The American president was navigating internal political pressures that demanded distraction and redirection. An attack on Iran—a dramatic, decisive military action—could serve that purpose. It would dominate news cycles, energize a certain political base, and move conversation away from whatever troubles were mounting at home.
But Cortinhas was skeptical that any of this would actually resolve anything. He pointed to a pattern: Iran had been attacked the year before, and at that time, officials had declared the Iranian nuclear program destroyed, eliminated, finished. Yet here they were, striking again. If the nuclear threat had truly been neutralized, why the need for a second round of attacks? The answer, he suggested, was that the current negotiations and military actions were not aimed at solving the problem—they were aimed at postponing it. The goal was to push the crisis past the American midterm elections scheduled for November, to buy time until after voters had cast their ballots and the political landscape had shifted.
What emerged from Cortinhas's analysis was a portrait of two leaders using military action not as a solution but as a pressure valve, a way to release domestic tension by creating an external enemy. The strikes on Iran were real, the military hardware was real, but the underlying logic was fundamentally political. The question was not whether the conflict would be resolved, but how long it could be managed, how many times it could be recycled, and what would happen when the elections were over and the distraction was no longer needed.
Citas Notables
You cannot look at the US-Iran relationship and place Israel in the middle as an isolated issue— Juliano Cortinhas, international relations scholar at University of Brasília
If the nuclear program had truly been destroyed, they would not have attacked again this year— Cortinhas, on the credibility of previous Iranian threat assessments
La Conversación del Hearth Otra perspectiva de la historia
When you say Netanyahu was using Iran to deflect from Palestine, are you suggesting the Palestinian crisis would have forced a reckoning if the Iran strikes hadn't happened?
Not necessarily forced—but it was creating constant pressure, both domestically and internationally. The strikes gave him a way to reframe the conversation entirely. Instead of defending policy in Gaza, he's now the leader confronting a regional threat.
And Trump? What domestic pressures was he managing?
The source doesn't specify, but the pattern is clear: both leaders had internal crises. For Trump, it was whatever political turbulence he was navigating. The Iran strikes provided a distraction, a moment where he could act decisively on the world stage.
You mentioned the previous Iranian nuclear program claims. Why does that matter?
Because it reveals the logic. If the program had actually been destroyed last year, there would be no need to strike again. The fact that they did means either the first claim was false, or the threat was never really the point. The strikes are cyclical—timed to political needs, not to actual security threats.
So you're saying these negotiations won't lead anywhere?
Not to a lasting solution. They're buying time. The real deadline is November—the midterms. After that, the political calculus changes, and so will the strategy.
What happens then?
That's the question no one wants to answer yet. But the cycle will likely continue, because the underlying problems—the Palestinian conflict, the internal pressures on both governments—haven't been solved. They've just been postponed.