Tehran sends tough message but keeps diplomacy door open

The delegation which held lengthy talks with the US team in Islamabad on Saturday includes not only Parliament Speaker Mohammad-Bagher Ghalibaf and his political allies but also Ali-Akbar Ahmadian, Secretary of the Defence Council, and more moderate technocrats such as Central Bank of Iran Governor Abdolnaser Hemmati.

However, the presence of Mahmoud Nabavian—a hardline parliamentarian known for his staunch opposition to negotiations with the West—has generated particular surprise.

Nabavian, a cleric affiliated with the ultra-conservative Paydari (Steadfastness) Party, has for years denounced figures like Mohammad-Javad Zarif and the relatively moderate government of Hassan Rouhani as “traitors” for pursuing the 2015 nuclear deal, formally known as the Joint Comprehensive Plan of Action.

His inclusion in the delegation appears to be interpreted as a calculated move by Ghalibaf. By bringing a vocal critic of negotiations into the process, he may be attempting to share responsibility for the outcome and pre-empt future criticism from hardline factions that wield significant influence within Iran’s political and military structures.

With figures like Nabavian involved, any eventual agreement—or failure to reach one— is less easily attributed to a single political camp.

According to political activist Hossein Shirzad, the delegation’s structure suggests a broader objective beyond traditional diplomacy. “The composition of the delegation … indicates that negotiations are aimed at presenting a ‘political business plan’ to Donald Trump’s representatives for Iran’s future,” he wrote on X. He added that “the discussions are likely about the quality of an agreement, not the agreement itself.”

Shirzad also claimed that “the issue has already been resolved behind the scenes. Ghalibaf wants to prove that he has the expertise and executive capability to manage Iran and control the remaining structure. He is seeking personal and factional guarantees.”

Mojtaba's green light

Despite the significance of the negotiations, Iran’s new supreme leader has not issued an explicit public endorsement.

However, in a written message marking the fortieth day after his father’s death, Mojtaba Khamenei referred to the “announcement of the decision to negotiate with the enemy” and called for public mobilization to influence the outcome, remarks that many interpret as implicit approval of the negotiation process.

He also referenced verses from Surah Al-Fath in the Quran, alluding to the Treaty of Hudaybiyyah—a peace agreement between Prophet Muhammad and his adversaries in Mecca. In Islamic tradition, this treaty is seen as a strategic move that reduced conflict and ultimately strengthened Muslims despite their weaker position at the time.

Such symbolic references carry strong weight among the Islamic Republic’s ideological base.

Ghalibaf and his rivals in the conservative camp

Divisions and rivalry within Iran's conservative camp remain pronounced. On one side stands Ghalibaf and his pragmatic allies—often described as technocratic conservatives—who advocate negotiation from a position of strength. They reject ultimatums but view diplomacy as a rational tool for managing tensions and reducing external pressure, with indirect talks seen as the most viable path under current conditions.

For Ghalibaf, success in these talks could significantly bolster his political standing after multiple failed bids for the presidency over the past two decades. A diplomatic breakthrough could help secure his position as a leading figure in Iran’s future political landscape.

On the other side are more radical conservatives, including Saeed Jalili and factions such as the Paydari Party, who have consistently opposed any engagement with the United States. These groups have framed past agreements as “surrender” and continue to adopt a hardline stance.

Jalili has remained notably silent in recent days, fueling speculation in political circles that under the new leadership he may have been replaced in his role at the Supreme National Security Council by Ali Bagheri-Kani, also present alongside the delegation.

Hardline opposition beyond political elites

Hardline opposition extends beyond political elites into public discourse. In street protests and on social media, critics have condemned any potential agreement as a sign of “humiliation” and “betrayal of the leader’s blood.”

In one widely circulated video, a speaker denounced Ghalibaf’s trip to Pakistan for talks with JD Vance, prompting crowds to chant “Hayhat Min al-Dhilla” (“Never accept humiliation”)—a phrase historically attributed to Imam Hussain on the Day of Ashura.

State media also reflects this tension. While negotiations are widely understood to require leadership approval, some broadcasters have continued to voice dissent.

For instance, a presenter on IRGC-affiliated Ofogh TV questioned the rationale for talks, asking: “If the Zionist regime has violated the ceasefire, based on which commitment should we remain silent and go negotiate? Three of Iran’s ten conditions for negotiation have been violated.”

Even so, other voices within state media have pointed to historical precedents, noting that several Shia Imams engaged in dialogue or cooperation with their adversaries, suggesting that negotiation, in itself, is not incompatible with ideological principles.

The issue has emerged as a major sticking point in the Islamabad talks, where disagreements over control of the waterway have contributed to a negotiating deadlock, according to media reports.

"The Strait of Hormuz is one of the issues under serious dispute," the IRGC-affiliated Tasnim News reported after the first round of talks in Pakistan, saying the negotiations were stalled by Washington’s “excessive demands.”

CNN also cited a Pakistani source as saying that a key dispute over control of the strait remains unresolved.

Iran's new supreme leader, Mojtaba Khamenei, in a written message on Thursday to mark the 40th day after his father's killing, briefly referred to plans for the strait.

"We will certainly usher the management of the Strait of Hormuz into a new phase," he wrote.

Iran has exercised de facto control over the passage since February 28, requiring vessels to coordinate directly with the Revolutionary Guards (IRGC). Commercial shipping has been rerouted through Iranian territorial waters, and transit fees have been imposed on the small number of vessels that are allowed to pass—reportedly averaging $2 million per tanker, payable in Chinese yuan or cryptocurrencies.

According to Bloomberg, shipowners must disclose cargo details, destination, and ownership through intermediaries linked to the IRGC. Iran then levies a “toll” of at least $1 per barrel, with higher rates depending on political considerations. Once approved, IRGC vessels escort ships through what has effectively become a controlled corridor.

A brief, Pakistani-mediated reopening on Wednesday highlighted the volatility of the situation. Tehran announced a two-week window for “safe passage,” albeit under strict coordination and “technical limitations.” Yet the opening proved short-lived. The IRGC halted tanker transit again, shortly after Israeli strikes in Lebanon.

The rapid reversal underscored how control over the strait remains central to both military calculations and diplomatic bargaining in Islamabad.

Hundreds of oil tankers are currently waiting inside the Persian Gulf. Since the announcement of the ceasefire and as of Thursday, fewer than a dozen ships have transited, according to tracking data from Kpler, Lloyd’s List Intelligence, and Signal Ocean—none of them standard commercial crude oil tankers.

In a statement, the IRGC warned that “any ship passing through the Strait of Hormuz without authorization would be targeted and destroyed.” The navy later cited “wartime conditions” and the possible presence of “anti-ship mines along the main transit route,” adding that alternative pathways had been designated.

US Central Command said on Saturday its forces have started setting conditions to clear sea mines in the Strait of Hormuz, with two Navy destroyers operating in the waterway as part of efforts to restore safe maritime transit.

Washington has tied de-escalation directly to maritime access. The US president said any pause in fighting depends on reopening the strait, framing it as essential to global stability.

Asked whether Iran could charge transit fees, Donald Trump told ABC News: “We’re thinking of doing it as a joint venture… It’s a way of securing it — also securing it from lots of other people.” He added: “It’s a beautiful thing.”

Strait as leverage

Iranian officials and media portray the strategy as a calculated use of geography. Nour News, an outlet close to security institutions, described the strait as “an unparalleled lever of power,” adding that Tehran had demonstrated “undeniable influence in international security and the global economy equations.”

The outlet emphasized that, regardless of negotiation outcomes, Iran has achieved “strategic success” by leveraging “native variables” to expand its influence.

Similarly, the conservative site Fararu called the strait “the point that changed the equation,” arguing that Tehran entered negotiations “not after defeat but from a position of resilience.”

Former diplomat Kourosh Ahmadi has suggested that restricting traffic could also serve as a deterrent against future attacks, arguing that “political guarantees are unreliable,” citing Ukraine’s post-1994 experience after relinquishing nuclear weapons.

Hossein Alaei, a former IRGC commander, has gone further, proposing a new legal framework for the strait. “Given that Iran’s control over the Strait of Hormuz was one of the most important factors in compelling Trump to agree to a ceasefire,” he wrote, Tehran should institutionalize a system in which it receives compensation for providing security—turning current practice into an internationally accepted norm.

Legal dispute

Iran’s actions have drawn scrutiny under the United Nations Convention on the Law of the Sea (UNCLOS), which guarantees transit passage through international straits. Critics argue that imposing tolls and restricting access violates these provisions.

However, some analysts contend that extraordinary circumstances justify extraordinary measures.

Ahmadi argues that external aggression allows Tehran to suspend normal legal regimes, including UNCLOS provisions and domestic maritime laws, framing current actions as defensive.

Lawmakers in Tehran are now reportedly drafting legislation to formalize Iran’s sovereignty claims over the strait and potentially institutionalize it as a regulated toll corridor.

The proposed law may be named after Alireza Tangsiri, the IRGC Navy commander recently killed in an Israeli attack—an indication of how military developments are shaping legal and political responses.

There is little clarity about the terms of the ceasefire. Neither Washington nor Tehran refers to it as a formal agreement, and the absence of guarantees, enforcement mechanisms or an effective mediator underscores how fragile it may be.

President Donald Trump has declared victory, Tehran has described the outcome as a “historic achievement,” and Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu has offered only partial support for the arrangement.

The complexity of the war, including the involvement of Arab states across the Persian Gulf and multiple proxy actors, makes a comprehensive settlement difficult for now.

The view from Washington

The United States entered the war with multiple objectives: degrading Iran’s nuclear program, weakening the “Axis of Resistance,” and in some quarters even raising the possibility of regime change. At its core, however, the goal was to alter the regional balance of power by weakening Iran’s ability to threaten Israel and its neighbors.

According to American officials, roughly 13,000 targets were struck during the campaign, including missile infrastructure, naval facilities and parts of Iran’s air-defense network. Much of Iran’s military command structure was also disrupted following the killing of several senior figures.

From Washington’s perspective, these developments bought time by setting back Iran’s military capabilities and limiting its ability to rebuild quickly, even if sanctions were lifted.

However, key US objectives remain unresolved. Iran’s stockpile of highly enriched uranium has not been secured, and parts of the missile program retain operational capacity.

At the same time, Washington may have underestimated the leverage Tehran could exert through the Strait of Hormuz. Iran’s move to close the strait triggered a sharp global energy shock, prompting intense pressure on the Trump administration. These dynamics likely contributed to Washington’s decision to shift unresolved issues to negotiations.

In that sense, the United States neither fully won nor clearly lost. It altered the strategic equation but did not achieve all of its objectives on its own terms.

The view from Tehran

The internal condition of the Islamic Republic remains difficult to assess because of extensive internet restrictions. However, Tehran’s acceptance of the ceasefire suggests that the damage inflicted across military and infrastructure sectors was substantial.

The war also produced a dramatic transformation in Iran’s command structure following the killing of several senior figures, including Supreme Leader Ali Khamenei.

The collapse of much of Iran’s air-defense network exposed the political center of power to continued vulnerability, making the possibility of further strikes a persistent concern.

At the same time, Iran’s leadership faced a different strategic risk: internal instability. Disruptions to electricity and fuel infrastructure, combined with the fragile legitimacy of the new leadership, raised concerns about potential unrest in a society already marked by repeated protest movements.

Hardline figures publicly criticized the ceasefire on Wednesday night, accusing the government of retreating under pressure. Yet the leadership appears to have concluded that a temporary pause was necessary to stabilize the domestic situation.

Tehran also believes it has gained leverage through the closure of the Strait of Hormuz. Reports have emerged that Iran seeks transit fees of roughly $2 million per ship. If such a system were implemented across normal shipping volumes—a major assumption—it could theoretically generate tens of billions of dollars annually.

A fragile truce

Shortly after the announcement, parliamentary speaker Mohammad Bagher Ghalibaf—who now leads Iran’s negotiating team—said that three provisions of the ceasefire framework had already been violated: Israeli attacks on Lebanon, Iran’s enrichment rights, and the incursion of a hostile drone into Iranian airspace.

Complicating matters further is the structure of the mediation effort itself. Pakistan, as a non-Arab Muslim state with working relations with both Washington and Tehran, appears a logical intermediary.

But Islamabad’s influence appears limited. Netanyahu’s rejection of Prime Minister Shehbaz Sharif’s remark that the ceasefire included Lebanon was a telling moment.

The absence of GCC powers and Lebanon also represents a structural weakness of the negotiations, as these actors remain deeply embedded in the conflict.

However, the decisive issue in the coming talks is likely to be the nuclear question. The central contradiction between Washington’s demand for zero enrichment and Tehran’s insistence on maintaining enrichment rights appears difficult to bridge. The fate of Iran’s existing uranium stockpile remains equally uncertain.

The Lebanese front presents another potential flashpoint. For Tehran, any perceived abandonment of Hezbollah would signal the collapse of the Axis of Resistance. Recent rhetoric from Iranian officials about defending Lebanese Shiite communities indicates that this front retains the capacity to derail the ceasefire.

The ceasefire therefore represents neither the end of the conflict nor the beginning of a durable peace. It is more accurately a pause within an ongoing confrontation.

The war did not generate the decisive pressure necessary to impose a lasting settlement. Both sides now hope to translate battlefield outcomes into diplomatic leverage. But based on what is publicly known, the negotiations appear unlikely to deliver the decisive achievements either side seeks.

The truce that emerged after six weeks of war remains fragile, even as diplomatic signals from Washington, Tehran and Islamabad suggest the meeting is likely to go ahead.

Amid the uncertainties and the mistrust, it was perhaps unsurprising that Iran’s ambassador to China, Abdolreza Rahmani Fazli, publicly expressed hope that Beijing could act as a guarantor of the process. The suggestion followed reports that China maintained contact with both Washington and Tehran during the diplomatic push that helped produce the ceasefire.

Yet when asked directly about such a role, China’s foreign ministry avoided any commitment, saying only that Beijing hopes “all parties can properly resolve disputes through dialogue and negotiation” and will maintain communication with those involved.

This episode reflects a broader pattern in China’s response to the war: exerting influence while avoiding commitment.

Beijing is engaged, but only up to a point. It maintains economic ties with Iran, continues to purchase its oil, and provides forms of support that help sustain the Iranian economy under pressure. Yet none of this amounts to the kind of backing Tehran would need in an existential conflict. There are no security guarantees, no military involvement, and no willingness to absorb significant strategic risks.

China’s limited readiness to intervene reflects both its capabilities and its priorities. Its actions are ultimately directed toward ensuring that the conflict does not disrupt its broader strategic agenda at minimal cost. Contributing to de-escalation can serve that objective, but only insofar as it advances clearly defined interests.

When the conflict began on February 28, Beijing was relatively well positioned to absorb the initial shock with the strategic reserves it had built up throughout 2025, the increasing electrification of its economy, and its vast domestic coal resources. It also soon became clear that Tehran could withstand the initial decapitation strikes.

At the same time, China’s regional strategy has increasingly shifted toward the monarchies across the Persian Gulf, reinforcing its preference for a balanced and non-committal posture.

The conflict also presents certain strategic opportunities. As the United States diverts military resources and political attention to the Middle East, pressure on China in the Indo-Pacific decreases. The war also offers insights into US military capabilities and operational patterns.

These advantages, however, depend on the conflict remaining limited. A prolonged war—such as the one that loomed when President Donald Trump warned that a “whole civilization will die”—poses significant risks.

China is poorly positioned to weather a global recession with ease. Exports remain essential for sustaining industrial output, growth and employment. A decline in external demand, combined with disruptions to key industrial and agricultural inputs, would therefore undermine a critical pillar of its economy.

Beijing wants stable relations with Washington, not least to buy time to strengthen its economy against future US pressure. In addition, the question of how to protect or evacuate the hundreds of thousands of Chinese nationals in the region would become increasingly urgent if the conflict escalated further.

It was under these conditions that China chose to act. On the one hand, it vetoed a Bahrain-sponsored resolution at the UN Security Council that—even in revised form—could have provided legal cover for further attacks against Iran. On the other, it helped create a diplomatic off-ramp to a US president in clear need of one.

China’s role in the crisis thus highlights both the reach and the limits of its influence. Beijing has demonstrated an ability to shape outcomes at critical junctures, but it remains unwilling to assume the responsibilities of a security provider. Its actions are highly context-dependent: had Washington shown no interest in de-escalation, or had diplomatic openings not emerged, China’s ability to intervene would likely have been far more limited.

The Chinese leadership, in other words, is not seeking to resolve the conflict as much as to manage its consequences. It intervenes not to build a lasting order, but to prevent outcomes that would damage its broader strategic agenda.

As long as that calculation holds, Beijing will remain an influential—but ultimately cautious and constrained—actor in Middle Eastern security.

For me, the question was not abstract. I came from a country where, for more than half a century, leaders had repeatedly threatened to weaponize the Strait. As an energy correspondent, I wanted to understand whether the region had built credible alternatives, or the world was still exposed to a risk it preferred to ignore.

Routing oil supplies away from the Strait of Hormuz has been a recurring topic in the Middle East, especially since the “tanker wars” of the 1980s. Regional governments had long been reviewing and funding contingency plans to deal with a possible closure of the Strait and to reroute their oil and petroleum exports.

Yet most of these plans never moved beyond paper, even after cabinet approvals. Those that did remained underfunded, and the volumes they could carry were a drop in the bucket compared to the total flow through the Strait of Hormuz.

Analysts I spoke to at the time believed such plans were not economically feasible in the absence of a real disruption. The reality was that regional countries were reluctant to commit billions of dollars to precautionary infrastructure that might never be needed.

And even if disruption did occur, many of them believed it would be short-lived — that the United States would intervene militarily and reopen the waterway quickly.

The alternative routes

As a result, projects remained limited in scope. Saudi Arabia’s East-West Pipeline carried oil to the Red Sea, but its capacity increases remained modest relative to the scale of Hormuz. The UAE’s Fujairah terminal bypassed the Strait, but remained geographically too close to be fully secure.

Other routes were even more constrained. The Iraq–Turkey pipeline faced political disputes between Baghdad and the Kurdish region over oil rights and territory. The Iraqi Pipeline through Saudi Arabia (IPSA), built by Saddam Hussein in 1989 to bypass Hormuz, has been largely inactive since 1990. Plans for a pipeline to Jordan’s Aqaba port depended on fragile Iraqi-Jordanian relations.

Deep-seated rivalries across the region prevented the implementation of most cross-border projects. The alternative plans were small, and governments were so reluctant to share information that I abandoned the article.

Two winners

Only two countries took the threat seriously.

China diversified its energy sources over the past decade and worked to reduce its dependence on the Strait of Hormuz.

The second was Iran, which built the Goreh–Jask pipeline to bypass the strait altogether, and also invested heavily in its ability to affect alternative routes.

Tehran repeatedly reminded regional countries that these alternative routes were vulnerable. The 2019 attacks on oil tankers near Fujairah, the 2019 drone strike on Saudi Arabia’s East-West pipeline, and the 2023 attacks by the Houthis on shipping lanes in the Red Sea were direct challenges to efforts to secure alternative export routes.

The US-Israeli war against Iran in March was a sobering reminder to the global economy that the world had long neglected one of its most critical chokepoints.
Iran managed to wipe out trillions of dollars from global markets by closing the Strait and added inflationary pressure to economies already under strain.

The price of securing the Strait was now much higher than the price of alternative projects would have been if they had been taken seriously.

Alternative routes were a partial answer at that time, but now they are no answer at all. During the US-Iran war, the region began to realize that a lasting solution lies not in infrastructure, but in a new regional security framework that limits the weaponization of the Strait of Hormuz.