Iran signals willingness to reopen Strait of Hormuz as US-Iran talks resume at UN

On the sidelines of the UN General Assembly in New York, Iranian foreign minister Abbas Araghchi sat down with US special envoy Steve Witkoff for three hours of talks—the first direct contact between the two countries since June, when Iran's vice president met with US officials in Switzerland to hammer out a preliminary understanding. Donald Trump announced the meeting on Tuesday, signaling that another round would follow soon. The conversation, brokered by Qatari diplomats, carried weight because it suggested both sides were still willing to talk, even as the rhetoric from the main stage grew sharper.

What emerged from those closed-door discussions was a significant shift in Iran's negotiating position. A senior Iranian official disclosed to Reuters and the Japanese news agency Kyodo that Tehran was prepared to reopen the Strait of Hormuz—one of the world's most critical oil shipping routes—within seven days, provided the United States took reciprocal steps to lift its military blockade of Iranian ports and ease the economic sanctions strangling the country's currency reserves and driving inflation. This represented a notable retreat from Iran's previous stance. Just weeks earlier, Tehran had laid out seven stringent preconditions for reopening the waterway, including a complete end to what it called the US war "on all fronts" and a sweeping commitment to cease all hostile actions. The new position, the official claimed, had been approved by Iran's supreme leader, Mojtaba Khamenei, and the country's supreme national security council.

Yet the cracks in Tehran's unity were already visible. Some Iranian media outlets aligned with the Islamic Revolutionary Guards Corps flatly denied that any new position had been adopted, a public contradiction that exposed the simmering dispute between hardliners and moderates over whether negotiations served Iran's interests. The IRGC itself issued a statement asserting there was no contradiction between holding talks and waging war simultaneously—a position echoed by Mohammad Ghalibaf, Iran's chief negotiator, in remarks delivered online to parliament. This internal friction was not incidental; it reflected genuine disagreement about whether the US could be trusted and whether any deal would hold.

On the American side, Trump's language oscillated between threat and possibility. In his address to the General Assembly, he posed a stark choice to Iran: "Do I drive them into hell with no chance of survival and no hope of future greatness or generations?" He also said he expected Iran to strike a deal immediately after the US midterm elections, suggesting he believed the country wanted to negotiate. Yet his public framing—calling Iran the number one terror organization on Earth, demanding that other nations isolate it economically, and warning Turkey and Iraq they would face sanctions if they did not comply with his directives—undercut any signal of good faith. The mixed messaging from both capitals suggested the two sides remained far apart on fundamentals.

The practical obstacles were substantial. Any agreement would require Iran and Oman to establish a new commercial shipping route through the Strait of Hormuz that would pass largely through Iranian waters. Saudi Arabia wanted a seat at the table, but Iran insisted the arrangement could only be endorsed by the two countries whose territory bordered the waterway. The Gulf states had not backed such a deal, and their hesitation mattered. Meanwhile, Trump's economic pressure was mounting: the US blockade on Iranian oil exports was destabilizing Tehran's finances, creating domestic pressure on the government to find a way out.

The UN General Assembly itself became a stage for competing visions of the Middle East's future. When Trump finished his speech, most of the Iranian delegation walked out. Later, Turkish President Recep Tayyip Erdoğan's description of Gaza as "the world's largest graveyard" and "the most inhumane and shameful concentration camp of our time" prompted an Israeli walkout. Jordan's King Abdullah spoke of forced displacement as a war crime. Eight Gulf foreign ministers issued a joint statement calling on Israel to fulfill its commitments under the Gaza ceasefire agreement and rejecting any expulsion of Palestinians. The diplomatic landscape was fractured, with multiple crises competing for attention and leverage.

What remained unclear was whether the window for a deal would hold open. History suggested that Iranian offers, however appealing on first reading, often became more complicated once the details emerged. The low profile kept by Iran's supreme leader—normally the final arbiter in internal disputes—made it harder to know whether the moderates or hardliners would ultimately prevail in Tehran. Trump's threat of annihilation, delivered from the world's most prominent stage, was not the language of someone preparing to make concessions. Yet the fact that talks were happening at all, that Iran had softened its preconditions, and that both sides had agreed to meet again suggested neither was ready to abandon the possibility of negotiation entirely. The next few weeks would determine whether that possibility could be transformed into something real.