Amidst threats, ultimatums, and contradictory announcements, Washington and Tehran negotiate in extreme distrust. As new talks approach in Pakistan, diplomacy seems less about seeking an agreement than testing the adversary’s limits.
Few international relationships are as defining as the one between the United States and Iran. This is not just a simple strategic disagreement or a temporary episode. It sets the framework for exchanges, to the extent that every negotiation attempt turns into a parallel confrontation.
The current sequence clearly illustrates this dynamic. On one side, Washington announces the imminent send-off of a delegation to Pakistan to resume talks. On the other, Tehran casts doubt on its participation, citing the absence of a “project” for a new round of negotiations and questioning the American “seriousness.” This initial asymmetry is enough to create an atmosphere of uncertainty before the talks even begin.
In addition, there is an escalation of contradictory statements. Donald Trump claims to offer a “reasonable deal,” while simultaneously threatening a massive military escalation if his conditions are not met. Tehran responds in a different but equally deterrent tone, denouncing “clear violations” of the ceasefire and linking any discussion to the lifting of the American naval blockade.
This pattern of announcements and counter-announcements is not just diplomatic noise, but a central instrument. Each statement aims to produce a strategic effect: reassure its camp, deter the adversary, test their red lines. However, it also makes negotiations more fragile by stiffening public stances.
The issue of the Strait of Hormuz epitomizes this tension. A vital axis for the global economy, it has become a tool for reciprocal pressure. Iran asserts its control over the passage, while the U.S. strengthens its presence in the Gulf of Oman. Both powers face each other indirectly, intensifying coercive actions. Each imposes its blockade, each challenges the other’s. In this context, negotiation is no longer just about avoiding escalation but becomes a continuation of it through other means.
This atmosphere is further complicated by the coexistence of incompatible registers. On one hand, announced discussions, dispatched delegations, accepted mediations. On the other, acts that undermine their credibility: seizure of an Iranian cargo by the U.S. Navy, maintenance of the blockade. Each concrete gesture weakens the accompanying diplomatic discourse.
Pakistan’s role falls precisely in this in-between space. Islamabad is not just an indirect mediator or the setting for a fully embraced dialogue. It becomes a possible negotiation space, but politically delicate. The two parties can meet there without fully acknowledging they are negotiating. This setup maintains an open channel while minimizing the political cost of direct dialogue.
A diplomacy under permanent threat
However, this solution remains precarious. It does not resolve the main contradiction: the two adversaries agree to talk while acting as if they have no trust in each other. This tension is reflected in the actual content of the discussions. On nuclear issues, Washington claims Iran should surrender its highly enriched uranium. Tehran denies it immediately. On the ceasefire, each accuses the other of violations. On Hormuz, positions remain irreconcilable.
Diplomacy thus becomes a space for narrative confrontation. It is no longer just about negotiating terms, but about imposing a version of events. Each side produces its account, contradicts the other’s, and strives to set the framework for any agreement—if it exists—to be interpreted.
This dynamic is part of a longer history of ruptures and accumulated distrust. The U.S. withdrawal from the 2015 nuclear deal deeply affected Iran’s trust in Western commitments. From the American viewpoint, there’s a belief that Tehran manipulates negotiations to safeguard its strategic maneuvering room. This mutual distrust is not merely political; it has become structural.
In these conditions, negotiations no longer rely on a minimal trust assumption but on a logic of mutual constraint. Each side moves to limit the gains of the other while maximizing their own margins. If an agreement is reached, it will not be the result of a common ground but of a temporary balance.
The question remains about its viability. Can a relationship be stabilized where every action is seen as a maneuver, every commitment as reversible, every opening as suspect? Experience shows that agreements can be made in such contexts. However, their durability depends on their ability to survive crises, political changes, and divergent interpretations.
In the case of U.S.-Iran relations, this durability appears uncertain. Diplomacy progresses, but does so in an environment saturated with threats, contradictory signals, and constant calculations. If peace emerges, it will not be built on trust but on an unstable balance, always on the brink of tipping.
In other words, the question may no longer be about whether an agreement is possible. It is about determining how long it can hold in a system where distrust is not an obstacle to diplomacy but its essential condition.
