Neither war nor peace has seeped into every part of her life.
Parliament Speaker Ghalibaf's negotiating team reports significant progress on frozen assets and nuclear issues, but hardline MPs sharply criticize what they call 'surrenderism' and violations of red lines. Iranians experience prolonged anxiety in a 'neither war nor peace' state, with currency traders and ordinary citizens hedging against deal collapse while fearing agreement could entrench the current system.
- Parliament Speaker Ghalibaf leads Iran's negotiating team; hardline MPs accuse him of violating Supreme Leader's red lines
- Iran demands guaranteed access to $12 billion in frozen assets in first phase of any deal
- Israeli soldier Staff Sgt. Noam Hamburger, 23, killed by Hezbollah drone strike near northern border
- Special cyberspace body voted 9-2 to restore international internet access; court temporarily suspended implementation
- Mojtaba Khamenei described Israel as 'cancerous tumor' nearing 'final stages' of existence
As Iran and the US pursue nuclear negotiations with reported progress, internal Iranian political divisions deepen between hardliners opposing concessions and moderates supporting talks, while uncertainty grips ordinary citizens.
In the windowless rooms where diplomats gather, Iran and the United States are edging toward something that might become a deal. On Friday, President Trump announced he was heading to the Situation Room to make a final decision on an emerging arrangement, after acknowledging that parts had already been agreed. The timing felt fragile. Just a day earlier, the US military had struck an Iranian drone facility near the Strait of Hormuz, and Iran's Revolutionary Guards had responded by targeting an American base believed to be in Kuwait. The pattern was familiar: a step forward, a step back, the whole thing balanced on a knife's edge.
Back in Tehran, the news of progress split the parliament into warring camps. Lawmakers aligned with Parliament Speaker Mohammad Bagher Ghalibaf, who is leading Iran's negotiating team, spoke cautiously of breakthrough. Fada-Hossein Maleki, a member of parliament's National Security Commission, described "significant quantitative and qualitative progress" and claimed that most of Iran's proposals had been accepted. The main worry, he said, was Trump's unpredictability. Ghalibaf's recent trip to Qatar had focused on frozen Iranian assets, and Maleki suggested it had produced positive results. But the hardliners heard something entirely different in these same reports. Ebrahim Rezaei, spokesman for the National Security Committee, went on television to ask why Iran should even commit to not building nuclear weapons. Ruhollah Izadkhah accused Ghalibaf of shutting parliament out of the process. Abolfazl Aboutorabi claimed that the Supreme Leader's core red lines—on the Strait of Hormuz, the nuclear issue, and compensation—had been violated. He dismissed the proposed $300 billion reconstruction fund as "a lollipop," a trick to get Iran to reopen the strait in exchange for promises with no teeth.
The criticism went deeper than parliamentary theater. Parisa Nasr, a market specialist, wrote online that negotiators had turned Iran's strategic assets into bargaining chips, then burned those cards, and now were dragging the country into what she called a "colonial surrender agreement." On social media, ordinary Iranians voiced their own doubts. Some argued that even a signed agreement would not prevent future war. Others feared that a durable settlement would entrench the current system and extinguish hopes for political change. One user wrote that the people who had come into the streets in January and been killed had been used as bargaining chips and then discarded once the deal was done. Another predicted that both sides would use any temporary calm to prepare for the next round of conflict, which might resume within months.
For people living in Tehran and other Iranian cities, the prolonged uncertainty had become its own kind of exhaustion. Sima, a resident of the capital, described the feeling of living in a "neither war nor peace" situation as something that had seeped into every part of her life. She had lived through moments when a deal seemed imminent, only to have everything collapse within hours and the threat of war escalate again. The clashes in the Persian Gulf and near Bandar Abbas the night before had made her feel as though she could hear planes and missiles overhead. On Iranian news websites, reports on gold and currency prices dominated the headlines. With inflation soaring and the national currency weakening, many Iranians had turned to buying foreign currency and gold as a hedge. But a temporary agreement, especially one that brought sanctions relief, could sharply reduce the value of those investments if markets suddenly fell. Morteza, an engineer in Tehran, had converted all his savings intended for a home into US dollars several months ago. He believed an agreement could improve the economy, but the uncertainty kept him awake at night. He remembered his father's losses after the Iran-Iraq war ended, when Iran accepted a ceasefire resolution and many people suffered huge financial losses.
Meanwhile, the new Supreme Leader, Mojtaba Khamenei, was hardening Iran's public posture. In a Hajj message, he described Israel as a "cancerous tumor" nearing the "final stages" of its existence, praised the October 7 attacks, and repeated his father's prediction that Israel would not survive beyond 2040. The statement came as Hezbollah sharply increased attacks on Israel's northern border, including explosive drone strikes near civilian communities. The parallel escalation raised a question: was Tehran trying to strengthen its hand in negotiations with Washington, using Hezbollah as leverage while publicly hardening its stance toward Israel? Sarit Zehavi, founder of the Alma Research and Education Center in Israel, told reporters there was no doubt the attacks were ordered by Tehran. She argued that Iran was using Hezbollah as pressure on the Americans, either to extract concessions or to prolong negotiations while the Islamic Republic rebuilt. The escalation was already costing lives. Zehavi's cousin's son, Staff Sergeant Noam Hamburger, 23, had been killed the previous week by a Hezbollah drone strike near the northern border, weeks before he was due to complete his military service. "In the process people are being killed," Zehavi said.
Back in Iran, another internal battle was unfolding over internet access. A special cyberspace body created by President Masoud Pezeshkian had voted to restore international internet connectivity to its pre-January 2026 status. The vote was nine to two. But within hours, an administrative court temporarily suspended implementation of the order, raising questions about the legal future of the reopening. The IRGC-affiliated Fars News agency had first questioned whether the administration had the authority to issue such an order, arguing that because the restrictions had been imposed by the Supreme National Security Council, only that same body could reverse them. Hours later, Fars softened its position, describing the reopening as a necessary "technical and security" decision. But the dispute revealed deeper fractures. Peyman Jebelli, head of Iran's state broadcaster, and Mohammad-Amin Aghamiri, secretary of the Supreme Council of Cyberspace, had been among the strongest opponents of restoring internet access. Aghamiri's opposition was particularly notable because he had been appointed by the president, yet he remained firmly opposed to reconnecting the country to the global internet.
On the financial front, intense talks were ongoing in Doha over Iran's frozen assets. Parliament Speaker Ghalibaf, Foreign Minister Abbas Araghchi, and Central Bank Governor Abdolnaser Hemmati had made a highly publicized visit to the Qatari capital on Monday, fueling speculation that discussions focused heavily on the frozen assets issue. An informed source told reporters that Tehran had demanded guaranteed access to $12 billion in frozen assets during the first phase of any arrangement. The current focus appeared to center on roughly $6 billion in Iranian assets that had been transferred from South Korea to Qatar in 2023 under a US-Iran prisoner exchange deal, then re-frozen after October 7. Some commentators suggested that Qatar could initially transfer the money to Iran before later being reimbursed by the United States, allowing Washington to avoid directly paying Tehran while still meeting one of Iran's principal demands. But the IRGC-linked Tasnim news agency reported that Tehran had made clear it would reject any preliminary arrangement lacking a concrete first step by Washington on the assets issue. "Iran will not allow the issue of asset release to be reduced to vague and unreal promises," a source told Tasnim, citing past American violations. Despite the tensions, Mashallah Shamsolvaezin, a member of President Pezeshkian's Media Council, expressed cautious optimism, suggesting the frozen-assets dispute could be resolved within 48 hours. Yet hardline figures continued to insist on preserving what they described as Iran's management of the Strait of Hormuz, a demand that critics said had repeatedly helped sink fragile diplomatic openings between Tehran and Washington.
Notable Quotes
Iran will not allow the issue of asset release to be reduced to vague and unreal promises.— Informed source cited by IRGC-linked Tasnim news agency
There is no doubt they are doing that under the order of Tehran. They are using Hezbollah as leverage of pressure on the Americans.— Sarit Zehavi, founder of Alma Research and Education Center
The Hearth Conversation Another angle on the story
Why does it matter that Ghalibaf is leading the negotiations instead of, say, the foreign minister?
Because Ghalibaf is Parliament Speaker—he has institutional weight. But more than that, he's aligned with a particular faction. When hardliners attack him, they're not just attacking a negotiator. They're attacking the whole moderate camp's vision for where Iran should go.
And the frozen assets—why is that the sticking point right now, not the nuclear program itself?
Because it's concrete. The nuclear stuff is abstract, technical, years away. But $12 billion in frozen money? That's real. That's what Iran needs to survive economically right now. If you can't get that, why would you agree to anything else?
The people in the streets buying gold and dollars—are they betting the deal fails, or hedging against it succeeding?
Both. They don't trust either outcome. If there's no deal, the currency collapses. If there is a deal, sanctions relief floods the market and their gold becomes worthless. They're trapped.
What does Mojtaba Khamenei's rhetoric about Israel actually accomplish?
It signals to the hardliners that he's not soft, not weak. But it also gives him cover if the negotiations fail. He can say, "Look, I never backed down." And it gives Hezbollah political cover to keep fighting.
Is Hezbollah actually taking orders from Tehran, or is it acting independently?
The evidence suggests orders. The timing is too perfect—escalating exactly when the talks are most fragile, exactly when Iran needs leverage. But Hezbollah also has its own reasons to fight. The line between coordination and shared interest is blurry.
Why would Iran want to prolong negotiations if it's already weak?
Because time buys you something. You rebuild, you reposition, you see what the Americans will actually do. And if talks collapse, you've at least bought months where you weren't being attacked.