Iran has been the nemesis of several US presidents for a reason
Three months after launching a war against Iran with promises of regime change and total disarmament, Donald Trump finds himself at the negotiating table pursuing the kind of pragmatic compromise he once condemned. The arc is a familiar one in the long history of maximalist ambitions meeting the stubborn resistance of geopolitical reality — grand declarations giving way to quiet retreats dressed as victories. What began as a transformational campaign to reshape the Middle East now narrows toward a transactional ceasefire centered on reopening a strait, preserving oil flows, and containing a nuclear program that American strikes did not, in fact, destroy. The question history will ask is not whether the goals shrank, but whether the deal that emerges can hold.
- Iran retained 70 to 80 percent of its missile and drone arsenal, its regime survived targeted assassinations, and its new supreme leader is already predicting Israel's disappearance by 2040 — the picture of a nation that does not feel defeated.
- Global oil markets remain hostage to a closed Strait of Hormuz, with American gasoline prices rising and fertilizer shortages threatening food supplies, giving Tehran enormous leverage at the negotiating table.
- A memorandum of understanding brokered by Pakistani and Qatari mediators proposes a 60-day ceasefire extension, with Iran demanding a careful, step-by-step verification process before any nuclear talks can begin — a pace that tests Trump's patience and credibility.
- Trump's hawkish Republican allies — Graham, Cruz, Pompeo, and others — are sounding alarms that the emerging deal resembles the very Obama-era JCPOA Trump dismantled, threatening a political rupture within his own coalition.
- Rather than closing the deal, Trump keeps introducing distractions — demanding Iran sign the Abraham Accords, threatening an American ally in Oman — moves analysts describe as 'shiny objects' that undermine the trust Iran says it needs before signing anything.
Three months after launching strikes on Iranian targets with sweeping promises of regime change and nuclear disarmament, Donald Trump is negotiating the kind of compromise he once derided. The war began on February 28th with bold declarations — unconditional surrender, the destruction of Iran's military, the liberation of its people. The maximalist vision was unmistakable. The reality that followed was not.
Iran retained roughly 70 to 80 percent of its ballistic missiles and drone arsenal. Despite Israeli assassinations of senior leaders including Supreme Leader Khamenei, the regime held. His successor has already predicted Israel's end by 2040. A memorandum of understanding, brokered by Pakistani and Qatari mediators, now proposes a 60-day ceasefire extension and eventual nuclear negotiations — the very kind of transactional arrangement Trump's allies had always attacked as insufficient.
The retreat is visible in what Trump no longer says. Regime change has been quietly abandoned. His stated focus has narrowed to preventing Iran from acquiring a nuclear weapon — a goal he claimed to have achieved last June when American strikes hit Fordow, Natanz, and Isfahan. But Iran is believed to still hold roughly 970 pounds of highly enriched uranium, enough for ten weapons, dispersed underground. That stockpile exists partly because Trump withdrew from the JCPOA in 2018, the agreement that had verifiably constrained Iran's enrichment program.
Foreign policy analysts have watched with a mixture of vindication and unease. Robert Kagan called Trump's endgame a surrender he hoped Americans wouldn't notice. Others described him as trapped between two incompatible impulses — the transformational dream of toppling the Iranian regime and the transactional reality of simply constraining its behavior. His hawkish Republican allies, including Graham, Cruz, and Pompeo, fear the emerging deal will resemble the very agreement Trump once scrapped.
To obscure the retreat, Trump has introduced improbable new conditions — demanding Iran and Arab allies sign the Abraham Accords, threatening Oman over strait access fees. Analysts at Johns Hopkins note that Iran's hesitation is less about ideology than distrust: they fear a ceasefire is merely preparation for the next strike. Their strategy is deliberate and sequential — ceasefire, asset releases, troop withdrawal, blockade relief, and only then nuclear talks. The man who built his brand on closing deals has yet to demonstrate he can close this one.
Three months into a war he launched with sweeping declarations of victory, Donald Trump finds himself negotiating the very kind of compromise he once derided. The conflict that began on February 28th with strikes on Iranian targets and bold promises of regime change now appears headed toward a ceasefire agreement that would reopen the Strait of Hormuz—a waterway Iran closed at the war's outset, disrupting the flow of roughly one-fifth of the world's crude oil and sending American gasoline prices climbing while fertilizer shortages threatened food supplies across the country.
When Trump authorized those first strikes, he spoke of defending Americans against imminent threats and called on Iran's military and security forces to surrender. He urged the Iranian people themselves to seize the moment and overthrow their government. He declared that only unconditional surrender would suffice. He insisted, repeatedly, that Iran's air force, navy, and overall military capacity had been effectively destroyed. The maximalist vision was unmistakable: regime change, nuclear disarmament, the elimination of Iran's missile capabilities and regional influence. It was the kind of transformational ambition that had animated American foreign policy toward so-called rogue states for decades.
But the reality that emerged from weeks of stop-start negotiations tells a different story. According to analysts tracking the conflict, Iran retained roughly 70 to 80 percent of its ballistic missiles and drone arsenal. The regime itself, despite targeted Israeli assassinations of senior leaders including Supreme Leader Ayatollah Ali Khamenei, remained standing. His successor, Mojtaba Khamenei, has yet to appear publicly but was recently quoted predicting Israel would cease to exist by 2040—hardly the posture of a weakened or chastened adversary. A memorandum of understanding, brokered with help from Pakistani and Qatari mediators, now proposes a 60-day extension of the current ceasefire, during which negotiations would address the two-decade dispute over Iran's nuclear program.
The shift in Trump's stated priorities reveals the scope of the retreat. Regime change has been quietly abandoned as an unattainable fantasy. His focus has narrowed to preventing Iran from obtaining a nuclear weapon—a goal he claimed to have already achieved last June when American strikes targeted three nuclear facilities at Fordow, Natanz, and Isfahan. Trump said at the time that the bombing had obliterated Iran's uranium stockpile. In reality, Iran is believed to possess roughly 970 pounds of highly enriched uranium, potentially enough material for ten nuclear weapons, dispersed across underground locations. That stockpile itself exists partly because Trump withdrew from the Joint Comprehensive Plan of Action in 2018—the Obama-era nuclear agreement that had limited Iran's enrichment activities and which international inspectors had verified Iran was honoring.
Foreign policy analysts have watched this arc with a mixture of vindication and concern. Robert Kagan of the Brookings Institution wrote that Trump's endgame amounted to surrender, and that the president likely hoped Americans would not notice the magnitude of the defeat. Sina Toossi, an analyst with the Center for International Policy, noted the stark contrast between the maximalist aims Trump had publicly stated at the war's outset and the ceasefire he ultimately accepted. Robert Litwak, an international relations professor at George Washington University, described Trump as trapped between two incompatible approaches: the transformational goal of toppling the Iranian regime, which has proven impossible, and the transactional deal meant merely to constrain Iran's behavior—the very kind of pragmatic compromise that Trump and his allies had once attacked Obama for pursuing.
Trump's hawkish Republican allies have recognized the scale of the retreat. Senators Lindsey Graham, Ted Cruz, and Roger Wicker, along with former CIA director and Secretary of State Mike Pompeo, have all warned against an agreement that Trump said last weekend was 95 percent negotiated. They fear it will resemble the JCPOA he scrapped during his first term—a deal that hardliners in the United States had always viewed as inadequate precisely because it did not attempt to change the character of the Iranian regime itself.
To obscure his predicament, Trump has recently introduced improbable conditions. He has demanded that Iran and American allies including Saudi Arabia, Egypt, Jordan, and Turkey all sign the Abraham Accords, the agreement negotiated during his first presidency under which several Arab states formally recognized Israel. For Iran's vehemently anti-Zionist government, the idea is a non-starter. Saudi Arabia has conditioned any recognition on a Palestinian peace deal that remains a distant prospect. Last week, Trump threatened to "blow up" Oman, a U.S. ally, if it reached any agreement with Iran that imposed charges for passage through the strait.
Yet according to Vali Nasr, an international relations professor at Johns Hopkins University, Iran's reluctance to sign stems not from ideology or fractured leadership but from distrust rooted in Trump's record. The Iranians fear, Nasr explained, that any peace deal might simply be preparation for future hostilities—that Trump intends to use a ceasefire to lower Iran's guard before striking again. Their strategy, he said, is a careful step-by-step verification: agreement on a ceasefire in Lebanon, release of frozen assets, gradual withdrawal of American troops, incremental lifting of the blockade, and only then, if trust has been built, negotiations on the nuclear question. The problem, Nasr observed, is that Trump keeps introducing what he called "shiny objects"—the Abraham Accords, threats against Oman—that distract from the fundamental question: can the man known for the art of the deal actually close one?
Citações Notáveis
Trump's endgame is surrender, and the president no doubt hopes Americans won't notice the magnitude of this defeat.— Robert Kagan, Brookings Institution
He's in a box because a transformational outcome is not possible. Trump is being forced to implement a transactional deal that would be essentially a variant of the JCPOA.— Robert Litwak, George Washington University
The reason they don't sign is because they don't trust him. It has nothing to do with ideology or fractured leadership. It's because of his record.— Vali Nasr, Johns Hopkins University
A Conversa do Hearth Outra perspectiva sobre a história
So Trump went to war saying he wanted regime change, and now he's negotiating a ceasefire. What happened?
He discovered what several presidents before him learned the hard way: Iran is not an adversary that yields to military pressure alone. His initial strikes didn't destroy Iran's military capacity the way he claimed. The regime stayed intact. And the economic pain of the closed strait—the oil prices, the fertilizer shortages—created pressure on him to negotiate.
But couldn't he have just kept fighting?
Theoretically, yes. But the costs were mounting, and Iran had gained leverage by controlling that waterway. A ceasefire that reopens it became the most tangible thing he could achieve. It's pragmatic, but it's not what he promised.
His Republican allies seem upset about this deal.
They are. Because it looks like it will resemble the Obama-era nuclear agreement Trump spent his first term attacking. The irony is that Trump's own 2018 withdrawal from that deal is partly why Iran now has such a large uranium stockpile. He's being forced to negotiate something similar to what he destroyed.
Why won't Iran just sign the deal?
They don't trust him. They remember that he can announce an agreement and then walk it back on social media. They're worried he'll use a ceasefire to lower their guard before striking again. So they want verification—step by step, watching him follow through before they commit to the nuclear negotiations.
What's with these demands about the Abraham Accords and threatening Oman?
Those seem like distractions. Analysts think he's trying to obscure how far he's retreated from his original goals. The Abraham Accords demand is particularly unrealistic—Iran's government is vehemently anti-Israel, and Saudi Arabia has its own conditions. It's a way of appearing tough while actually negotiating a compromise.
So what does this mean for Trump politically?
He has to sell a transactional deal—one that merely constrains Iran's behavior rather than transforming the regime—to supporters who wanted transformation. That's a difficult sell, especially when the deal may not even be as rigorous as the agreement he scrapped.