Wars are not the only catastrophe that can befall nations. Limbo is even more exhausting: “non-war and non-peace.” This is precisely the situation the region finds itself in today. Tensions between Iran and the United States persist, markets remain uneasy, and maritime trade is under pressure. No final decision is taken amid hesitation that stems not only from international calculations, but also from the dilemma facing the Iranian regime itself, which has yet to decide on a path.
Tehran wants an agreement that eases the suffocating economic pressures it faces. At the same time, however, it fears that such an agreement would signal its political and ideological retreat to the Iranian population, after decades of mobilizing its base around the idea of confronting the “Great Satan.” As a result, the Iranian leadership is reconfiguring its priorities such that it can claim that it has extracted a political or economic victory from Washington, even if that victory is largely symbolic. Iran wants money, control over Hormuz, the removal of the American presence, and to retain its proxy networks; the world seeks nuclear disarmament, freedom of navigation, and an end to Iranian interference in neighboring countries.
The country is genuinely exhausted. The economy is deteriorating, the currency has lost much of its value, job opportunities are shrinking, and the middle class, which once formed the backbone of Iran’s stability, has become increasingly strained and anxious. Iranian society is visibly seeking relief. That is why the Iranian negotiating team appears focused on securing the release of as many frozen assets as possible and obtaining sanctions relief. Those funds are no longer a political luxury; social implosion cannot be averted without them.
At the same time, Tehran continues to rely on its traditional pressure tactics. It waves the card of the Strait of Hormuz, manufactures legal justifications, draws false comparisons, and repeatedly reminds the world of its ability to threaten international shipping or vital facilities in the Gulf. It also clings to its political and military proxies in Lebanon, Iraq, and Yemen, as maintaining these networks allows Iran to wield influence in the region, and it raises the cost of any confrontation with its adversaries as Iran gambles on the outcome of the US Midterm elections.
However, none of these tools are as effective as they once were. Things have changed since the war. Gulf states have become more prepared to deal with threats, and the United States appears less eager to offer concessions. In fact, Washington behaves as though time is on its side, believing that sustained economic and psychological pressure will gradually wear down Iran’s domestic front, and that Republicans will continue to gain support in the process.
The clearest indication of the level of anxiety inside Tehran might be the regime’s inconsistent domestic approach. After allowing unrestricted internet access for a few hours, the authorities abruptly reversed the decision, reflecting fears around the speed with which discontented citizens communicated their anger. The authorities understand that modern communication tools are no longer merely technical conveniences; they have become mechanisms for sharing grievances, organizing protests, and breaking the psychological isolation that separates individuals from one another.
These apprehensions pose a greater threat to the regime than any foreign threat. History shows that closed ideological regimes rarely collapse because of military strikes. More often, they fall when they lose the ability to convince the population that additional sacrifice serves a purpose. Once citizens feel that their daily lives are deteriorating while the authorities continue repeating slogans, it begins to erode from within.
This helps explain Tehran’s current delay tactics. The regime does not yet possess a genuine settlement project, but it does not want a major explosion either. It postpones, signals, and tests reactions in the hope that time will provide a better opportunity. Yet time itself may become a heavy burden, because economic and social crises do not remain static; they accumulate and intensify.
The fundamental problem is that part of Iran’s political establishment still believes that crisis management can ensure its survival. The facts, however, suggest that people cannot endure hardship indefinitely. When suffering becomes a way of life, patience begins to erode.
The Iranian leadership appears to be betting on the international community’s fatigue as the crises remain unresolved, assuming that major powers may eventually prefer any agreement, even a flawed agreement, to ongoing tensions. This reading may not be entirely accurate, as experience has shown that the Iranian economy is more vulnerable to a war of attrition. Foreign companies remain hesitant, and youths are decreasingly convinced by the rhetoric of revolutionary mobilization and more concerned with their own future, living standards, and personal opportunities.
That is, continued tension imposes a growing domestic political cost on Iran. Every delay in reaching genuine solutions widens the gap between the state and society and reinforces the perception, among broad segments of the population, that their state’s priorities do not align with people’s everyday needs. Iranian citizens want a stable economy, better services, and greater openness to the world, while part of the official political discourse remains trapped in the battles and symbols of the past. Over time, this psychological gap between state and society becomes more dangerous than sanctions themselves.
In the end, no authority can indefinitely ignore the demands of a society that seeks a normal life. Eventually, the public will impose its own priorities.
To conclude: war destroys quickly; the absence of peace exhausts slowly.
