President Donald Trump wants to end the war with Iran and reopen the Strait of Hormuz, the narrow Persian Gulf waterway through which roughly one-fifth of the world's oil normally flows. A growing chorus of US politicians is denouncing the emerging terms, arguing the deal hands Iran billions while leaving it in control of the strait and a nuclear programme. Inside Iran, however, the mood is very different. Tehran is in no hurry to accept. American officials blame Iranian stubbornness, but the truth is that Iran's leaders simply do not trust Washington — and they have specific reasons for that distrust.
Iran has already had what one Iranian-American analyst calls a 'sordid' experience with Trump-era dealmaking: he withdrew from the 2015 nuclear agreement in his first term, and the US has twice launched strikes on Iran during the current round of negotiations. For Tehran, the lesson is that even signed agreements with Washington do not hold. The dominant view in Iran's political establishment is that the offer on the table is too good to be true. The aim, officials argue, is to lull Iran into lowering its guard while America prepares to finish the job.
Iran's Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps (IRGC) and its allies go further. They believe the credible threat of war is Iran's only real deterrent against future attack, so any deal that trades away that threat is a strategic loss, not a gain. So far, the war has cost the United States roughly $29 billion and 143 American lives, and the global economic damage has been far greater. Trump has dismissed this as 'short-term pain' that is 'OK' if it means denying Iran nuclear weapons. From Tehran's perspective, changing his mind by inflicting more pain on the US and the world economy is the only way to ensure the president is ready for serious talks.
Not every Iranian agrees with this confrontational logic, but Iran itself is playing a heavy price. Other Iranian leaders talk of controlling the Strait of Hormuz and keeping a stockpile of highly enriched uranium as the key to deterrence. They believe any durable deal must include economic compensation for war damage and lasting sanctions relief — without those, lifting US secondary sanctions (penalties on third countries that do business with Iran) is essentially impossible, since Washington cannot politically compel European or Asian countries to ignore them. That is what makes a lasting deal so unlikely.
Here's the catch. Tehran might agree to open the strait, freeze part of its nuclear programme, and accept a ceasefire — but it will not give up the deeper sources of its leverage. Iran is now convinced that the ability to shut down Hormuz is a major deterrent, especially if Yemen's Houthis join in a future conflict and squeeze trade through the Red Sea too. Control of the strait would also let Iran collect fees on commercial traffic, providing welcome economic relief and pressuring countries worldwide to push the US to ease secondary sanctions. The more the US insists on Iran giving up enrichment and handing over its uranium stockpile, the more Tehran becomes convinced that America's real aim is to remove Iran's deterrence through diplomacy so that the next war can be fought against a weaker adversary.
A short-term ceasefire would be welcome news for the global economy. But it should not be confused with peace. By keeping control over a diluted enrichment programme, Iran would be only weeks away from nuclear breakout. A larger, lasting deal that addresses Hormuz and Iran's nuclear programme — the structural issues, not just the symptoms — will be far more difficult to attain.
Imagine being offered a ceasefire after three months of war — and concluding that signing it would actually make the next war worse. That's Tehran's bet right now.
After roughly three months of open war between the United States and Iran, President Trump has been pushing a deal that would reopen the Strait of Hormuz, freeze Iran's nuclear programme, and pause hostilities. On paper, it looks generous: billions in potential sanctions relief, a lifted naval blockade, and an off-ramp from a conflict that has spiked global oil prices.
But Vali Nasr — a Johns Hopkins professor and longtime Iran analyst — argues in the Financial Times that Tehran sees the offer as a trap. Iranian officials read the 'generous' terms as a Trojan horse designed to disarm them cheaply, so Washington can hit them harder later from a position of greater weakness.
The disagreement isn't really about the price tag of peace — it's about what each side thinks the deal is FOR. Two parallels help:
If you've noticed gas prices, grocery costs, or airline tickets jumping this spring, the Strait of Hormuz is a big reason why. And if you're thinking about college, careers, or where the next decade of US foreign policy is headed — whether toward de-escalation or a wider Middle East war — this negotiation is the hinge. The outcome shapes everything from military recruiting to oil-state economies to whether your generation inherits another forever-war.
Nasr's warning echoes a familiar pattern: the 2015 nuclear deal (JCPOA) was signed, then torn up by Trump in his first term — a precedent Tehran has not forgotten. The second-order effects to watch: whether Iran builds toward nuclear 'breakout' as insurance, whether Yemen's Houthis stay in the fight, and whether Gulf states like Oman get squeezed between Washington and Tehran over Hormuz tolls. A short-term ceasefire is possible. A durable peace looks much further away.