Summary
Iran is struggling to reconcile its desire for political and economic stability with a strategy built on military threats, regional leverage, and strategic uncertainty. President Pezeshkian acknowledges that prolonged instability prevents effective governance, yet influential factions remain committed to maintaining pressure on Israel, the United States, and regional actors. Meanwhile, rising living costs, unreliable subsidies, healthcare expenses, and aviation challenges are intensifying domestic pressures. The central challenge is whether Tehran can secure a favorable diplomatic settlement without surrendering the leverage that also perpetuates its instability.
Key Takeaways
- Iran faces a growing contradiction between diplomatic resolution and military escalation. President Masoud Pezeshkian wants to end the prolonged state of "no war, no peace," but Tehran continues to use threats against Israel, control over the Strait of Hormuz, and nuclear ambiguity as bargaining tools. These tactics strengthen Iran's negotiating position while prolonging the uncertainty damaging its economy.
- Regional escalation risks undermining Iran's diplomatic relationships. Threats to Saudi Arabia, Gulf shipping, and regional infrastructure could transform potential mediators into opponents. Meanwhile, disagreements over withdrawing from the Nuclear Non-Proliferation Treaty (NPT) expose divisions between Iranian hardliners seeking stronger deterrence and pragmatists concerned about provoking military intervention.
- Ordinary Iranians are increasingly bearing the economic and social costs. Delayed government payments are making food subsidies unusable in some areas, hospitalization expenses are reportedly increasing, and aviation restrictions are contributing to higher ticket prices. Despite attempts to promote national unity, tensions over compulsory hijab, internet restrictions, and personal freedoms persist.
Pezeshkian Wants to Emerge from the Fog, but the System Is Still Preparing for War
The most important statement of the weekend did not come from a military commander, but from President Masoud Pezeshkian. In a speech on October 24, he said Iran must move beyond a prolonged state of “no war, no peace,” because it is impossible to plan for a country amid permanent uncertainty. His remarks came during a discussion of the population census, resource allocation, and data quality, but their significance extends much further. In effect, Pezeshkian linked the security conflict to the government’s ability to manage the economy: it is impossible to plan a budget, determine the scale of subsidies, invest in infrastructure, or make long-term decisions when the government does not know whether, a month from now, it will be managing normal life, a blockade, or another war. This is not a public call for concessions, but it is an acknowledgment that the ambiguity Tehran uses as leverage against its adversaries has also become a burden on the country itself.
Yet the following morning offered no clear path out of that intermediate state. Iranian media reported, citing secondary sources, that U.S. Central Command had prepared strike options against Iran and submitted them to the secretary of defense. There is no evidence that Donald Trump approved any action, no timetable, and no reliable information about targets or scope, so the report is best viewed primarily as an indication of how the Iranian public is once again being placed in a state of readiness for escalation. At the same time, the pragmatic press is also attempting to assess the risk through the lens of domestic politics in Israel and the United States, arguing that elections in both countries could influence the calculations of Netanyahu and Trump. This, too, is interpretation rather than a substantiated forecast, but it shows that the discourse within Iran is not uniform: alongside those portraying another confrontation as almost the inevitable next stage, there are also those who argue that the threat is shaped by political interests and is therefore not necessarily unavoidable.
The Threat Against Israel Is Expanding, and Hormuz Remains a Bargaining Chip in a Broader Regional Settlement
Against this backdrop came one of the sharpest threats of the recent period. Ebrahim Azizi, chairman of parliament’s National Security and Foreign Policy Committee, published a message in Hebrew stating that Iran could render Israel uninhabitable in less than an hour if its security or national interests were harmed. The publication of the threat itself can be verified, but not the military capability it attributes to Iran. Its primary significance is therefore psychological: it is aimed both at the Israeli public and at the Iranian public, which the establishment is seeking to convince that the previous war did not weaken deterrence, but instead accelerated the replenishment of stockpiles and capabilities.
The same message also appears in reports about the expansion of missile stockpiles, new weapons, and warnings against allowing American vessels to return to the Gulf. This review contains no independent data that would make it possible to measure Iran’s stockpiles, readiness, or ability to prevent an American naval presence, but the repetition of these messages serves a clear purpose: while Pezeshkian says it is impossible to remain forever between war and peace, the security establishment wants to ensure that any departure from this intermediate state is not interpreted as weakness.
The Foreign Ministry is also continuing its effort to broaden the discussion beyond the issue of navigation itself. Esmail Baghaei argued that regional meetings cannot focus solely on freedom of navigation, but must address what Iran defines as the root causes of insecurity in the Gulf and Hormuz: the American presence, Israeli activity, and pressure on Tehran. This means that, from Iran’s perspective, Hormuz is not a transportation problem to be solved technically. It is a bargaining chip within a broader regional settlement. As long as Tehran retains the ability to disrupt shipping or make it more dangerous, it wants the restoration of normal conditions to come in exchange for political and security changes, rather than merely as a response to international pressure.
Saudi Arabia Is Shifting from a Venue for Mediation to One That Is Itself Bearing the Cost of Escalation
The difficulties inherent in this strategy are becoming increasingly apparent in Saudi Arabia. Iranian media reported this morning on another attack attributed to Ansarallah in the Riyadh area. The Saudi-led coalition said the drone was intercepted, while the Houthis warned airlines and employees not to use King Khalid International Airport, which they define as a military target. Here, too, there is no basis for verifying the full claims made by either side or the damage caused by previous operations, but the continuation of the threat itself allows Tehran to portray the war against it as a confrontation that cannot be confined to Iran’s shores. If the pressure spreads to Riyadh, airports, energy facilities, and air traffic, then the countries of the region are also forced to pay a price for the continuation of the conflict.
But this is leverage that could also work in the opposite direction. Saudi Arabia and the Gulf states were among the actors that tried to keep mediation channels open between Tehran and Washington. The more they themselves become direct targets of attacks, the more they may shift from the position of mediator to that of a party with a clear interest in applying pressure on Iran and its partners. Reports of a large oil slick off Umm al-Quwain also illustrate how the war is beginning to generate damage that cannot be measured solely by the number of missiles or ships involved. The source and extent of the spill remain uncertain, but concerns about damage to fishing, beaches, and ecosystems add a new dimension to the regional cost of the confrontation. The Gulf is not merely an energy corridor. It is also a shared environmental and economic space, and any disruption there can quickly become a problem for several countries at once.
On the Nuclear Issue, Iran Is Also Trying to Speak in Two Languages
The debate surrounding the Treaty on the Non-Proliferation of Nuclear Weapons once again illustrates the tension between the desire to preserve legal tools and the temptation to escalate the threat. On the one hand, Iran joined 11 other countries in a statement opposing attacks or threats of attack against nuclear facilities under IAEA safeguards. From Tehran’s perspective, international oversight is not merely a constraint. It is also a legal asset: if the facilities are monitored and, according to Iran, used for civilian purposes, it can argue that attacking them would undermine nuclear safety and the entire non-proliferation regime.
On the other hand, the Stability Front is calling for withdrawal from the NPT. Within Iranian discourse, this idea has drawn sharp criticism. Ahmad Zeidabadi warned that withdrawal would not give Iran a nuclear weapon or effective deterrence overnight, but it would provide Israel and the United States with a new argument for military action. In his view, even if a complete infrastructure were already in place, the path to a weapon would still require time, so leaving the treaty at the height of the crisis could strip Iran of legal protections before providing it with military deterrence.
This is not a marginal disagreement. Iran wants to use the safeguarded status of its facilities to argue that they must not be attacked, while at the same time parts of the hardline camp want to undermine the framework that gives them that very status. It is difficult to obtain the full benefits of both approaches simultaneously. The debate over the NPT is therefore really part of a broader argument over Iranian strategy: does greater ambiguity and further escalation deter the adversary, or do they make it easier for that adversary to build legitimacy for an attack?
On the Street, the Regime Is Trying to Broaden the Definition of “Unity”
One of the most interesting signs of internal change comes from the debate over the hijab. Asadollah Badamchian, chairman of the central council of the conservative Motalefeh Party, confirmed that women wearing only partial head coverings are also taking part in nighttime gatherings, alongside women who adhere to hijab rules. Rather than portraying those women as standing outside the national camp, he sought to turn their presence into evidence that the war had created a form of unity broader than the social divisions of recent years.
This is a significant rhetorical adjustment. For years, women who did not comply with the dress code were portrayed as part of a cultural crisis, as a manifestation of Western influence, and at times even as a security risk. Now, at least within parts of conservative discourse, they can become part of a narrative of national unity. This does not mean that the state has abandoned enforcement of the dress code or that the dispute has been resolved. The Interior Ministry itself acknowledged that the street gatherings included behavior it defines as offensive and destructive, and said that the authorities intend to intervene. It did not specify who did what, so there is no basis for treating every gathering as an anti-government protest, but it is clear that, from the authorities’ perspective as well, the street is not the uniform and harmonious space that some conservative framing seeks to portray.
At the same time, commentary continues to argue that compulsory hijab, internet restrictions, and limits on cultural activity do not create a more religious or stable society, but instead deepen the social crisis. These are opinion pieces, not measures of public opinion, but the very fact that the debate continues during wartime is significant. The war may have temporarily broadened the language of unity, but it has not erased the longstanding questions surrounding personal freedom, the internet, and the extent of state intervention that can be imposed without paying a price in public trust.
The Assistance Exists on the Screen, but Stores Will Not Always Accept It
The gap between policy on paper and life on the ground is particularly evident in food cards. A local investigation in Shahroud described a situation in which most stores had stopped accepting the Kalabarg food credit because the government was delaying payments to merchants. A family of four may see in the system that it has a credit balance of four million tomans, but if a store is unwilling to honor it, the assistance exists only in the government’s records. This is a local report, and it cannot be assumed that the situation is the same throughout the country, but it exposes a fundamental failure: welfare policy does not end when the government credits an account. It ends only when the citizen can actually use the money at the checkout.
The value of the assistance is also eroding rapidly. According to one account, four million tomans that once allowed a family to purchase a certain amount of meat now buys far less. The government may therefore succeed in the first two stages and fail in the third: allocating assistance and recording eligibility in the system, but failing to ensure that stores are paid and that purchasing power is preserved. This is precisely the kind of failure Pezeshkian is referring to when he says that planning is impossible amid uncertainty. A subsidy system also requires the ability to forecast budgets, payments, and prices.
The problem is even more acute in the healthcare system. The chairman of the Social Security Retirees Association claimed that a change in subsidies for agricultural inputs had resulted in a charge of 700,000 tomans per night for food for hospitalized patients, meaning that a ten-day hospitalization could add seven million tomans to a patient’s bill. The full text of the decision and the position of the insurance companies were not presented, so there is no basis for concluding that this amount applies uniformly across the healthcare system. But the claim itself illustrates how a reform intended to correct one line in the budget can move through the pricing chain and ultimately appear on the bill of a patient who has no direct connection to currency policy or livestock-feed subsidies.
Even a Plane That Never Took Off Tells the Same Story
Civil aviation is dealing with the same problem of passing on costs. The Civil Aviation Organization prohibited the sale of tickets for flights operated by MD aircraft that did not meet engine-related safety requirements, after saying that airlines had received warnings and extensions for years. Airlines warn that the measure will reduce the number of available seats, increase prices, and hurt employment. The authority responds that a shortage of aircraft is not a reason to permit the operation of planes that fail to meet safety requirements.
It is a genuine dilemma. Sanctions, exchange rates, and difficulties obtaining spare parts make it harder for airlines to renew their fleets. But using aging aircraft to keep prices lower is not a reasonable solution if it increases the risk to passengers. A day earlier, reports had already indicated an increase of about 40 percent in ticket prices, partly because of fuel costs, exchange rates, and the termination of foreign-currency allocations under previous terms. Here, too, the state has no cost-free solution: if it tightens safety requirements, tickets become more expensive and capacity declines; if it relaxes them, it transfers the risk to passengers.
And this is essentially the same problem recurring in almost every area. The government can change a subsidy mechanism, but someone will pay the difference. It can protect aviation safety, but someone will pay the price of a smaller fleet. It can retain Hormuz as leverage, but the uncertainty itself imposes a cost on the Iranian economy.
Iran Wants a Resolution, but Is Still Unwilling to Give Up the Tools That Prolong the Waiting
Pezeshkian’s statement about the need to move beyond a state of “no war, no peace” therefore ties together all of the morning’s stories better than any military threat. The president is not describing only a diplomatic problem. He is describing a situation in which budgets, subsidies, airlines, healthcare systems, and businesses must operate without knowing what their working environment will look like a month from now.
But the system is still unwilling to give up the tools that create part of that uncertainty. Hormuz remains a source of leverage. Senior officials continue to issue direct threats against Israel. The hardline camp is once again raising the possibility of withdrawing from the NPT. Regional partners continue to expand the circle of threats to include Saudi Arabia. Each of these tools is intended to increase the price the adversary will pay if it refuses to accept Tehran’s terms. At the same time, each makes it harder for the Iranian government itself to guarantee a return to normality.
The paradox becomes clearer as time passes. Iran wants to end the waiting, but it still believes that waiting under pressure is the way to secure a better deal.
From the outside, this looks like a bargaining strategy. From the inside, ordinary citizens encounter it in a store that will not accept their food card, in a rising hospitalization bill, and in a more expensive airline ticket.
Pezeshkian is already saying that Iran cannot remain there forever. The question now is not whether Iran wants to emerge from the fog, but which card it will be willing to put down in order to do so.
Pezeshkian Wants to Move Beyond “No War, No Peace,” but Iran Continues to Raise the Threat Level
Iran’s president acknowledges that the country cannot continue to operate in a permanent state of waiting between war and a settlement, but Tehran is still unwilling to give up its leverage over Hormuz, is escalating its threats against Israel, and is contending with reports of the possibility of further American escalation. Inside the country, the cost is already becoming more tangible: food cards that cannot be used, rising hospitalization bills, higher airfares, and a system forced to decide how much longer it can afford to pay for strategic ambiguity.
Pezeshkian Wants to Emerge from the Fog, but the System Is Still Preparing for War
The most important statement of the weekend did not come from a military commander, but from President Masoud Pezeshkian. In a speech on October 24, he said Iran must move beyond a prolonged state of “no war, no peace,” because it is impossible to plan for a country amid permanent uncertainty. His remarks came during a discussion of the population census, resource allocation, and data quality, but their significance extends much further. In effect, Pezeshkian linked the security conflict to the government’s ability to manage the economy: it is impossible to plan a budget, determine the scale of subsidies, invest in infrastructure, or make long-term decisions when the government does not know whether, a month from now, it will be managing normal life, a blockade, or another war. This is not a public call for concessions, but it is an acknowledgment that the ambiguity Tehran uses as leverage against its adversaries has also become a burden on the country itself.
Yet the following morning offered no clear path out of that intermediate state. Iranian media reported, citing secondary sources, that U.S. Central Command had prepared strike options against Iran and submitted them to the secretary of defense. There is no evidence that Donald Trump approved any action, no timetable, and no reliable information about targets or scope, so the report is best viewed primarily as an indication of how the Iranian public is once again being placed in a state of readiness for escalation. At the same time, the pragmatic press is also attempting to assess the risk through the lens of domestic politics in Israel and the United States, arguing that elections in both countries could influence the calculations of Netanyahu and Trump. This, too, is interpretation rather than a substantiated forecast, but it shows that the discourse within Iran is not uniform: alongside those portraying another confrontation as almost the inevitable next stage, there are also those who argue that the threat is shaped by political interests and is therefore not necessarily unavoidable.
The Threat Against Israel Is Expanding, and Hormuz Remains a Bargaining Chip in a Broader Regional Settlement
Against this backdrop came one of the sharpest threats of the recent period. Ebrahim Azizi, chairman of parliament’s National Security and Foreign Policy Committee, published a message in Hebrew stating that Iran could render Israel uninhabitable in less than an hour if its security or national interests were harmed. The publication of the threat itself can be verified, but not the military capability it attributes to Iran. Its primary significance is therefore psychological: it is aimed both at the Israeli public and at the Iranian public, which the establishment is seeking to convince that the previous war did not weaken deterrence, but instead accelerated the replenishment of stockpiles and capabilities.
The same message also appears in reports about the expansion of missile stockpiles, new weapons, and warnings against allowing American vessels to return to the Gulf. This review contains no independent data that would make it possible to measure Iran’s stockpiles, readiness, or ability to prevent an American naval presence, but the repetition of these messages serves a clear purpose: while Pezeshkian says it is impossible to remain forever between war and peace, the security establishment wants to ensure that any departure from this intermediate state is not interpreted as weakness.
The Foreign Ministry is also continuing its effort to broaden the discussion beyond the issue of navigation itself. Esmail Baghaei argued that regional meetings cannot focus solely on freedom of navigation, but must address what Iran defines as the root causes of insecurity in the Gulf and Hormuz: the American presence, Israeli activity, and pressure on Tehran. This means that, from Iran’s perspective, Hormuz is not a transportation problem to be solved technically. It is a bargaining chip within a broader regional settlement. As long as Tehran retains the ability to disrupt shipping or make it more dangerous, it wants the restoration of normal conditions to come in exchange for political and security changes, rather than merely as a response to international pressure.
Saudi Arabia Is Shifting from a Venue for Mediation to One That Is Itself Bearing the Cost of Escalation
The difficulties inherent in this strategy are becoming increasingly apparent in Saudi Arabia. Iranian media reported this morning on another attack attributed to Ansarallah in the Riyadh area. The Saudi-led coalition said the drone was intercepted, while the Houthis warned airlines and employees not to use King Khalid International Airport, which they define as a military target. Here, too, there is no basis for verifying the full claims made by either side or the damage caused by previous operations, but the continuation of the threat itself allows Tehran to portray the war against it as a confrontation that cannot be confined to Iran’s shores. If the pressure spreads to Riyadh, airports, energy facilities, and air traffic, then the countries of the region are also forced to pay a price for the continuation of the conflict.
But this is leverage that could also work in the opposite direction. Saudi Arabia and the Gulf states were among the actors that tried to keep mediation channels open between Tehran and Washington. The more they themselves become direct targets of attacks, the more they may shift from the position of mediator to that of a party with a clear interest in applying pressure on Iran and its partners. Reports of a large oil slick off Umm al-Quwain also illustrate how the war is beginning to generate damage that cannot be measured solely by the number of missiles or ships involved. The source and extent of the spill remain uncertain, but concerns about damage to fishing, beaches, and ecosystems add a new dimension to the regional cost of the confrontation. The Gulf is not merely an energy corridor. It is also a shared environmental and economic space, and any disruption there can quickly become a problem for several countries at once.
On the Nuclear Issue, Iran Is Also Trying to Speak in Two Languages
The debate surrounding the Treaty on the Non-Proliferation of Nuclear Weapons once again illustrates the tension between the desire to preserve legal tools and the temptation to escalate the threat. On the one hand, Iran joined 11 other countries in a statement opposing attacks or threats of attack against nuclear facilities under IAEA safeguards. From Tehran’s perspective, international oversight is not merely a constraint. It is also a legal asset: if the facilities are monitored and, according to Iran, used for civilian purposes, it can argue that attacking them would undermine nuclear safety and the entire non-proliferation regime.
On the other hand, the Stability Front is calling for withdrawal from the NPT. Within Iranian discourse, this idea has drawn sharp criticism. Ahmad Zeidabadi warned that withdrawal would not give Iran a nuclear weapon or effective deterrence overnight, but it would provide Israel and the United States with a new argument for military action. In his view, even if a complete infrastructure were already in place, the path to a weapon would still require time, so leaving the treaty at the height of the crisis could strip Iran of legal protections before providing it with military deterrence.
This is not a marginal disagreement. Iran wants to use the safeguarded status of its facilities to argue that they must not be attacked, while at the same time parts of the hardline camp want to undermine the framework that gives them that very status. It is difficult to obtain the full benefits of both approaches simultaneously. The debate over the NPT is therefore really part of a broader argument over Iranian strategy: does greater ambiguity and further escalation deter the adversary, or do they make it easier for that adversary to build legitimacy for an attack?
On the Street, the Regime Is Trying to Broaden the Definition of “Unity”
One of the most interesting signs of internal change comes from the debate over the hijab. Asadollah Badamchian, chairman of the central council of the conservative Motalefeh Party, confirmed that women wearing only partial head coverings are also taking part in nighttime gatherings, alongside women who adhere to hijab rules. Rather than portraying those women as standing outside the national camp, he sought to turn their presence into evidence that the war had created a form of unity broader than the social divisions of recent years.
This is a significant rhetorical adjustment. For years, women who did not comply with the dress code were portrayed as part of a cultural crisis, as a manifestation of Western influence, and at times even as a security risk. Now, at least within parts of conservative discourse, they can become part of a narrative of national unity. This does not mean that the state has abandoned enforcement of the dress code or that the dispute has been resolved. The Interior Ministry itself acknowledged that the street gatherings included behavior it defines as offensive and destructive, and said that the authorities intend to intervene. It did not specify who did what, so there is no basis for treating every gathering as an anti-government protest, but it is clear that, from the authorities’ perspective as well, the street is not the uniform and harmonious space that some conservative framing seeks to portray.
At the same time, commentary continues to argue that compulsory hijab, internet restrictions, and limits on cultural activity do not create a more religious or stable society, but instead deepen the social crisis. These are opinion pieces, not measures of public opinion, but the very fact that the debate continues during wartime is significant. The war may have temporarily broadened the language of unity, but it has not erased the longstanding questions surrounding personal freedom, the internet, and the extent of state intervention that can be imposed without paying a price in public trust.
The Assistance Exists on the Screen, but Stores Will Not Always Accept It
The gap between policy on paper and life on the ground is particularly evident in food cards. A local investigation in Shahroud described a situation in which most stores had stopped accepting the Kalabarg food credit because the government was delaying payments to merchants. A family of four may see in the system that it has a credit balance of four million tomans, but if a store is unwilling to honor it, the assistance exists only in the government’s records. This is a local report, and it cannot be assumed that the situation is the same throughout the country, but it exposes a fundamental failure: welfare policy does not end when the government credits an account. It ends only when the citizen can actually use the money at the checkout.
The value of the assistance is also eroding rapidly. According to one account, four million tomans that once allowed a family to purchase a certain amount of meat now buys far less. The government may therefore succeed in the first two stages and fail in the third: allocating assistance and recording eligibility in the system, but failing to ensure that stores are paid and that purchasing power is preserved. This is precisely the kind of failure Pezeshkian is referring to when he says that planning is impossible amid uncertainty. A subsidy system also requires the ability to forecast budgets, payments, and prices.
The problem is even more acute in the healthcare system. The chairman of the Social Security Retirees Association claimed that a change in subsidies for agricultural inputs had resulted in a charge of 700,000 tomans per night for food for hospitalized patients, meaning that a ten-day hospitalization could add seven million tomans to a patient’s bill. The full text of the decision and the position of the insurance companies were not presented, so there is no basis for concluding that this amount applies uniformly across the healthcare system. But the claim itself illustrates how a reform intended to correct one line in the budget can move through the pricing chain and ultimately appear on the bill of a patient who has no direct connection to currency policy or livestock-feed subsidies.
Even a Plane That Never Took Off Tells the Same Story
Civil aviation is dealing with the same problem of passing on costs. The Civil Aviation Organization prohibited the sale of tickets for flights operated by MD aircraft that did not meet engine-related safety requirements, after saying that airlines had received warnings and extensions for years. Airlines warn that the measure will reduce the number of available seats, increase prices, and hurt employment. The authority responds that a shortage of aircraft is not a reason to permit the operation of planes that fail to meet safety requirements.
It is a genuine dilemma. Sanctions, exchange rates, and difficulties obtaining spare parts make it harder for airlines to renew their fleets. But using aging aircraft to keep prices lower is not a reasonable solution if it increases the risk to passengers. A day earlier, reports had already indicated an increase of about 40 percent in ticket prices, partly because of fuel costs, exchange rates, and the termination of foreign-currency allocations under previous terms. Here, too, the state has no cost-free solution: if it tightens safety requirements, tickets become more expensive and capacity declines; if it relaxes them, it transfers the risk to passengers.
And this is essentially the same problem recurring in almost every area. The government can change a subsidy mechanism, but someone will pay the difference. It can protect aviation safety, but someone will pay the price of a smaller fleet. It can retain Hormuz as leverage, but the uncertainty itself imposes a cost on the Iranian economy.
Iran Wants a Resolution, but Is Still Unwilling to Give Up the Tools That Prolong the Waiting
Pezeshkian’s statement about the need to move beyond a state of “no war, no peace” therefore ties together all of the morning’s stories better than any military threat. The president is not describing only a diplomatic problem. He is describing a situation in which budgets, subsidies, airlines, healthcare systems, and businesses must operate without knowing what their working environment will look like a month from now.
But the system is still unwilling to give up the tools that create part of that uncertainty. Hormuz remains a source of leverage. Senior officials continue to issue direct threats against Israel. The hardline camp is once again raising the possibility of withdrawing from the NPT. Regional partners continue to expand the circle of threats to include Saudi Arabia. Each of these tools is intended to increase the price the adversary will pay if it refuses to accept Tehran’s terms. At the same time, each makes it harder for the Iranian government itself to guarantee a return to normality.
The paradox becomes clearer as time passes. Iran wants to end the waiting, but it still believes that waiting under pressure is the way to secure a better deal.
From the outside, this looks like a bargaining strategy. From the inside, ordinary citizens encounter it in a store that will not accept their food card, in a rising hospitalization bill, and in a more expensive airline ticket.
Pezeshkian is already saying that Iran cannot remain there forever. The question now is not whether Iran wants to emerge from the fog, but which card it will be willing to put down in order to do so.