Washington came to the negotiations with the same old ultimatums but Tehran feels it now has the power to set the terms

The US-Iran talks in Islamabad ended exactly as they were bound to end under the current balance of power - without a deal, without a handshake, without even the faintest sense that the two sides have moved closer to a durable peace.

Nearly 21 hours of talks, an unprecedented level of representation, extraordinary security measures in the Pakistani capital, the high hopes of mediators, and the jitters of global markets changed none of the essentials. What now lies between Washington and Tehran is no longer mere political distrust, but an entire layer of military memory, and that layer proved stronger than diplomatic protocol. It would have been a surprise if the talks turned out any different.

Talks about the past, not the future

From the outside, the talks looked historic. They marked the highest-level direct US-Iran contact in decades. The American delegation was led by Vice President J.D. Vance and included Steve Witkoff and Jared Kushner. Iran was represented by Parliament Speaker Mohammad Bagher Ghalibaf and Foreign Minister Abbas Araghchi. Pakistan, for all practical purposes, turned Islamabad into a sealed security zone, while the Serena Hotel became a fortified diplomatic venue. Yet it was precisely this contrast between the historic form and the emptiness of the results that revealed the true essence of the moment. Formally, the two sides were talking about the future. In substance, they were arguing about the past and about the right to dictate the terms of the present. The US demanded Iranian concessions on non-proliferation, the nuclear program, and freedom of navigation through the Strait of Hormuz. Iran responded with demands for reparations, the unfreezing of assets, recognition of its regional interests, and a broader de-escalation that would also extend to Lebanon. That alone showed that the parties had not come to Pakistan in search of compromise, but to stake out their outer limits.

The central reason for the breakdown lies in a word that appeared almost routinely in official statements, yet in reality explains everything: Trust. Iran spoke openly of its absence, while the American side effectively confirmed that absence through the rhetoric of ultimatum. When Vance declared after the talks that the US had presented Tehran with its "best and final offer," it sounded less like an invitation to peace than an attempt to dress up the failure of diplomacy in the language of American superiority. For Tehran, this tone was unacceptable from the outset. Iran entered these negotiations convinced that Washington had repeatedly shown its willingness to combine diplomacy with coercion, and to use pauses to regroup. This is why the Iranians approached Islamabad with extreme caution. Under these conditions, the talks were not an instrument of reconciliation, but merely a way of testing whether the other side was capable of stopping, even temporarily. Tehran's conclusion, judging by the outcome, was negative.

From this follows a second, deeper reason for the failure - the US entered these negotiations from a position of strategic urgency. US President Donald Trump needed a pause far more than the White House cared to admit. This was evident both in the substance of Pakistan's mediation efforts and in how quickly Washington agreed to a two-week suspension of bombing. Formally, Trump insisted that no deal was necessary and that the US retained the upper hand regardless. But political logic suggested the opposite. The war, which began on February 28, 2026, did not bring a quick or unambiguous resolution. It hit energy markets, logistics, insurance, fertilizers, helium supplies, and inflation expectations. The economic shock is already forcing the International Monetary Fund and the World Bank to prepare more pessimistic forecasts on growth and inflation. The longer the confrontation drags on, the less room for maneuver the White House retains, both at home and abroad.

Political consequences for the US

The legal dimension only deepens this trap. Under the US War Powers framework, the president must notify Congress within 48 hours, and in general, the unauthorized use of armed forces in hostilities is limited to 60 days, after which specific congressional approval is required unless a separate authorization exists. This does not mean that every military operation stops automatically on the dot, but it does mean that the political corridor for a prolonged war without congressional backing narrows sharply. For Trump, this is especially sensitive because there is nothing close to a consensus on Iran within the American political class. More than this, the issue has already generated new tensions over presidential authority and the role of Congress. The Iranians, of course, see this vulnerability no worse than American lawyers do. When one side understands that the other is not merely fighting against military constraints, but against domestic political time as well, the incentive to make concessions falls sharply.

The US has also found itself in a political deadlock because it failed to turn its campaign against Iran into a broad international coalition. Even among NATO allies and close partners, support proved limited, and to a significant extent, non-military. NATO Secretary-General Mark Rutte himself acknowledged that some European allies had "failed the test" in the Iran war, while the British leadership separately emphasized that it had not taken part in the strikes, even while offering other forms of support. These signals mean that Washington failed to present its line as unquestionably legitimate and broadly Western. American power works best when it appears not merely as the power of the US, but as the institutional power of an entire bloc. In the case of Iran, this did not happen. And when allies hesitate, the adversary gains an additional sense of time and space.

Inside the US, the situation is no less difficult. The longer the war affects oil prices, gasoline prices, shipping costs, and inflation expectations, the weaker the argument becomes that coercion can deliver peace and stability quickly. Markets are already reacting to the collapse of the talks as a warning of a potentially prolonged energy shock. Reuters reports new nervousness on Gulf stock exchanges and notes that the conflict has already dealt a serious blow to the global economy and pushed oil prices higher. For Trump, this is particularly dangerous for political reasons. His electoral logic has always rested on the image of a leader who lowers costs for the ordinary American, not one who drags the country into an expensive foreign adventure with unpredictable prices at the pump and a new wave of inflation. That is why even the threats to resume strikes now sound more like those of a leader trying to preserve an image of toughness while the material consequences of that toughness are hitting his own political base.

Iran sets the price of de-escalation

Against this backdrop, it is especially important to understand why Iran entered Islamabad with a stronger negotiating position than many had expected at the start of the war. On paper, the US and Israel should have possessed a decisive military advantage. But the political reality of war is often determined by who succeeds in imposing an unfavorable form of conflict on the other side. By closing and effectively controlling the passage through the Strait of Hormuz, Tehran transformed itself from an object of pressure into an actor capable of influencing the global economy almost in real time. Hormuz and the conditions of navigation became one of the central knots in the negotiating deadlock. While the US speaks of freedom of navigation, Iran speaks of control, coordination of passage, and the right to levy charges. This is a dispute over who, after six weeks of war, has the right to define the price of de-escalation. And it is precisely here that Iran has shown that the price for the US is exceedingly high.

No less important is the internal dimension of Iran's position. AP reports that in Tehran, the collapse of the talks produced a mixture of disappointment and demonstrative resolve, while some public reactions boiled down to the view that Iran should not squander at the negotiating table the gains it has secured on the battlefield. This is a crucial psychological shift. A campaign that, in the design of the US and Israel, was supposed to weaken Iran and perhaps fracture it internally has thus far produced the opposite effect - the consolidation of a significant share of Iranian society around the state and the idea of resisting external pressure. For the authorities in Tehran, this means greater room for a hard line. Iran emerged from this phase of escalation unbroken. And in Middle Eastern politics, that is already half the victory.

Israel has no interest in peace

The Israeli factor also deserves particular attention. Even setting aside every conspiratorial exaggeration, the open evidence of recent days shows that the Israeli leadership has displayed no real interest in swiftly closing the conflict on terms that would allow Washington and Tehran to move toward a stable compromise. On the contrary, Israel's line remains maximally hard. Parallel to the Islamabad talks, Israeli strikes in Lebanon continued, while Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu publicly stressed that the campaign is not over. For Iran, this is a direct signal - even if the Americans are ready to discuss a pause, their closest regional ally and effective co-author of the pressure campaign remains interested in a continued military scenario and does not want Tehran and Washington to stabilize relations. Here the US problem is twofold. First, Tehran does not believe Washington is truly capable of restraining Israeli escalation. Second, even if part of the American establishment would like to stop, it cannot do so without costs in its relationship with Netanyahu's right-wing coalition. Iran therefore logically proceeds from the worst-case scenario and feels no urgency to yield.

A dead end

In this sense, Islamabad became not a venue for peace, but a mirror reflecting the full contradiction of the American line. On the one hand, the White House threatens new strikes and a naval blockade, and gives 'final offers'. On the other, the very fact of the two-week ceasefire, Pakistan's intensive mediation, and the rush to diplomacy show that the US has neither free hands nor a clear exit strategy. After the failure of the talks, AP and Axios reported further hard-line statements from Trump and new American moves around Hormuz. Yet every statement now works in two directions. It may intimidate Iran, but it also reminds everyone that Washington has not achieved the essential goal - it has not broken the will of its adversary, has not reopened the strait on its own terms, has not assembled a full coalition, and has not secured a sustainable diplomatic outcome. In this situation, the threat of force ceases to be an instrument for solving the problem and becomes instead a symptom that fewer and fewer instruments remain.

This is why saying the US is now trapped in a political deadlock is a fairly precise description of the present reality. Continuing the war is dangerous because of law, economics, allies, and internal division. Ending the war on acceptable terms is difficult because Iran does not see itself as the defeated party and is demanding not mercy, but a price. A return to old formulas is impossible because the war has changed the very structure of bargaining. The Trump administration wants to speak at once in the language of coercion and in the language of dealmaking, but after February 28, 2026, these two languages no longer fit together. To Tehran, the American promise of peace appears too reversible, too dependent on domestic political calculation, and too vulnerable to Israeli pressure. This is why the Iranians are demanding more and speaking more harshly. They believe they have paid far too high a price for their current position to exchange it now for yet another set of guarantees that may evaporate at the first new crisis.

What comes next is perhaps the bleakest question of all. Formally, the diplomatic channel has not yet been completely destroyed. Pakistan will clearly try to preserve at least the remnants of a negotiating infrastructure, because it has invested enormous political capital in the present pause. But there is so far no structural basis for a rapid breakthrough. If Trump truly demands that Iran halt its nuclear program, hand over enriched uranium to the American side, and fully reopen Hormuz without substantial reciprocal political guarantees, then that will not be a roadmap to peace, but merely a repetition, in updated language, of the same ultimatum logic that already led to the collapse in Islamabad. Iran, by all appearances, will not accept these terms - which means the risk of the war returning to a hot phase is indeed very high.

Ultimately, this is the principal lesson of Islamabad. The negotiations did not fail because of a single disputed clause, a single harsh remark, or even one sleepless night at the Serena Hotel. They failed because an entire American way of conducting Middle Eastern policy has reached its limit - first apply pressure, then offer compromise from a position of strength, and then wonder why the other side does not believe in the sincerity of the offer. Whatever one thinks of Iranian policy, Iran no longer feels that it is the side obliged to hurry. The US, for all its military power, for the first time in a very long time, looks like the side that is in a hurry. The Islamabad talks were the collapse of the American illusion that it still holds a monopoly over the terms on which wars in the region can be brought to an end.

(RT.com)