Tehran’s core dilemma is internal: nuclear, missile, and proxy capabilities have become identity rather than instruments. Survival hinges on de-sanctifying these tools and restoring tactical agility; otherwise, whether it tries to compromise or hold out, the risks only rise.
On 13 October 2025 (21 Mehr 1404), while Donald Trump flew to Israel and then joined the Sharm el-Sheikh meeting on Gaza, an Arab outlet called Iran a “present absentee.” Absent, because President Masoud Pezeshkian and Deputy Foreign Minister Abbas Araqchi skipped the summit. Present, because Trump kept bringing up Iran en route, at the Knesset, and later in Egypt, and Israeli officials repeatedly invoked Iran in Jerusalem ceremonies. In addition, and behind closed doors in Trump’s long meeting with Israel’s prime minister, “what to do about Iran” was almost certainly discussed.
B-2 bombers and “peace with Iran”
Trump mixes hard threats with talk of “peace with Iran,” praising “midnight hammers” and the beauty of B-2 bombers while dangling diplomacy. This isn’t just personal flair; it’s a pressure tactic that creates strategic ambiguity: if you can’t predict whether a concession will be rewarded or punished, you hesitate; if you fear punishment, you over-comply. This has made Iran’s calculus harder: every step could trigger either talks or a hit, so the safe move is to absorb more cost upfront.
This mixed signaling also fits a larger U.S. shift toward long-term competition with China. Iran’s file is nested inside that architecture: pressure is applied not only to coerce Tehran but to show allies and competitors that Washington can rapidly toggle between coercion and engagement. That environment—fluid signals, fast cost shifts, and audience management beyond the Middle East—is one Tehran is poorly equipped to navigate.
Tehran’s deadlock: when means become ends
Strategy is the destination; tactics are the tools. Over three decades, Iran’s tools—its nuclear program, missile forces, and regional non-state allies—have been elevated into “strategy.” Budgets, decision-making, and political legitimacy are tied to them, making change or trade-offs extremely costly. The result: economic and security stability are routinely sacrificed to preserve the tools themselves.
Since UN Security Council Resolution 1929 (June 2010), followed by tougher sanctions and covert attacks on sites and scientists, treating the nuclear program as a “deterrent tactic” has clearly reduced—rather than increased—Iran’s security and economic stability. Instead of reclassifying it as an adjustable tool, the state drew it closer to the ultimate goal and made it untouchable. Politicians who tried cost-benefit pragmatism met resistance and were sidelined.
The proxy network followed a similar arc. What began as a supposedly cheap lever became expensive after the Syrian uprising and civil war—and later the Gaza war. With overlapping fronts (Gaza, Iraq, Lebanon, Syria, the Red Sea) and new punitive and deterrent mechanisms, Tehran’s bills climbed and its diplomatic room shrank.
States—especially those with modest power that operate at a regional level—don’t go looking for fights. They’ll often pay a side cost to get their caravan safely past proxy roadblocks. A non-state proxy in Yemen can, with a $10,000 drone, strike Aramco and inflict billions in damage on Saudi Arabia. Rationally, Riyadh may decide to pay that proxy’s leader something to stop the stone-throwing.
“Disrupt and extract” used to work. Why not now?
For years, the Islamic Republic played “disrupt and bargain”: keep things at neither peace nor war—apply controlled pressure, avoid full-scale conflict, and prevent a return to normal. That tactic sometimes worked because the international order had clearer red lines. Today those lines are blurred: the old order is fraying, a new one isn’t set, and mixed signals from Washington, Brussels, and regional capitals make miscalculation costlier.
The key point is that no one knows how far the United States is willing to go—or how much it will pay—to pursue its long-term strategy of competing with and containing China. The U.S.—and Trump in particular—prefers to keep that ambiguity in place, at least until it feels its position is firmly anchored.
Meanwhile, sanctions, anti-money-laundering rules, and higher shipping/insurance risks have choked off the financial workarounds that once made this approach viable.
Why “heroic flexibility” doesn’t buy relief
The Islamic Republic is highly vulnerable right now and unsure how to handle Trump. In past crises, Tehran’s go-to was “heroic flexibility” — the JCPOA model of making a major tactical concession to avoid a strategic defeat. That move yields little today. Washington’s posture has shifted from “maximize gains at minimal cost” to “maximize gains regardless of cost.” In practice, the U.S. isn’t seeking a partial deal; it wants the full bundle: zero uranium enrichment, dismantling proxy networks, and strict limits on ballistic missiles.
Tehran also struggles to adopt a new approach because it has treated its key instruments — the nuclear program, missiles, and proxy ties — as identity markers rather than negotiable tools. Once tools become identity, trading or scaling them back is seen as a threat to internal cohesion, not ordinary policy adjustment. That is why the current choice — bend or stand firm — feels existential.
A good example is the nuclear file. Using the program as the main path to “security stability” has backfired since 2010 (1389). It’s long been clear this tactic won’t secure lasting stability for the Islamic Republic. So why insist on it? Why rely on a single instrument — and let the instrument overshadow the strategic goal?
Trump, meanwhile, bluffs and acts: he can change tone, order a night strike, then send a warm letter. Systems that treat instruments as adjustable can ride out that turbulence. Systems that treat instruments as identity read every tweak as betrayal. That’s Tehran’s bind: any “softening” triggers identity suspicion; any “hardening” quickly drives up costs (as the 12-day war of 2025 showed).
The question that remains
Even if the U.S. president—or Washington’s tone—changed tomorrow, Tehran would hit the same wall. Its key tools (nuclear, missiles, proxies) have been turned into sacred symbols, and the system panics at any attempt to adjust them. So the real issue in the Trump era isn’t “soft vs. hard.” It’s whether the Islamic Republic—and a Supreme Leader treated as infallible—can stop treating these tools as holy, return to normal policy trade-offs, and relearn tactical flexibility inside a clear strategy. Until that happens, both choices—bend or stand firm—are just different paths to higher risk.
