TEHRAN — Many around the world are trying to decode and analyze the character of the current President of the United States — from politicians and analysts to journalists, traders, and market players. After all, the U.S. president wields vast powers, while the mechanisms in the American system for overseeing and constraining those powers are, more often than not, theoretical possibilities on paper rather than practical realities.

One of the biggest questions observers in America and around the world are grappling with today is this: Will Trump once again turn up the flames of war with Iran and launch an attack, or not? First of all, it must be said that the war that began on February 28 has never actually ended. It has had its ebbs and flows — at times more intense, at times quieter — but it has not ended.

Back to the question. Arguably, one of the most logical ways to find an answer would be to look at Trump's own positions. Yet he takes a new stance and makes a new claim every day, and is deeply contradictory on this front. Matters have reached the point where, in a recent campaign speech in Oklahoma, he claimed that Iran was even producing narcotics inside its nuclear facilities. The sheer degree to which Trump treats his audience as fools is at times astonishing.

When conventional, logical approaches fail to solve a puzzle, everyone tries to resort to inventive methods of their own. Here, I want to turn to Dostoevsky for help. The great virtue of writers is that you can count on their help even after their death.

One of Dostoevsky's most famous and captivating works is the novel The Gambler, written in just 26 days, whose dramatic creation was itself driven by the financial pressure of the author's own gambling losses. It makes no difference where a gambler is from or what the instrument of gambling is; throughout history, gamblers have remained utterly loyal to one thing: never walking away from the table. Winners press on to win more; losers press on to recover their losses — both convinced of their luck.

Alexei Ivanovich, the hero of the novel, like every other gambler, is faithful to this unwritten pact. When he wins a handsome sum, he keeps playing to make more; and when he loses for the first time: “With a feeling like a sick qualm, as though I would like to make my way out of the crowd and go home, I staked another fifty gulden — this time on the red.”

The attack on Venezuela was, for Trump — albeit through cheating — the equivalent of a sweet win. But for one addicted to gambling, a sweet win is not only never enough; it further stimulates the instinct. Egged on by the then head of Mossad, the U.S. president fell under the illusion that it was now time to land the whale. Defeating an Iran that has stood against America since 1979 and has outlasted every previous president could immortalize his name in history. Less than a year ago, he had attempted this gamble and lost — and he thought that this time the story would be different.

A war that was supposed to last a few days, or at most four to six weeks, has now turned into a seven-month quagmire for America, with price displays at some gas stations showing $9.99 for diesel — simply because they are physically incapable of displaying a higher figure. Trump's late-February gamble has become the most unpopular American war in decades and has brought his voter base to the brink of collapse.

A rational man in such circumstances would revise his calculations and abandon the folly. But it must not be forgotten that we are dealing with a tired and desperate gambler who has promised each spectator $5,000 to cheer him on louder, who does not shrink from attacking a school and massacring children to secure victory, and who regards sinking an unarmed vessel as entertainment. Losing the gamble is not the main problem; the main problem is his false hope in luck.

Some sources say Trump has stated in closed-door meetings that the reason the war has produced no result is that the attacks were not severe enough.

At the end of Dostoevsky's novel, Alexei, who has lost everything, recalls a memory in which he once had only one gulden left in a game and won 170 with it, and says: “This is a fact — That is what one’s last gulden can sometimes mean! And what if I had lost heart that time, if I had not dared to make up my mind? ... Tomorrow, tomorrow all shall be ended!”