By Asghar Ali Mubarak
There is a peculiar, almost theatrical unreality to watching the world hold its breath over a ceasefire that does not quite exist, mediated by a country scrambling to keep its own diplomatic furniture from floating away. Pakistan, for a brief moment, finds itself at the center of global attention. Islamabad is preparing for a second round of talks between Washington and Tehran with the kind of frantic energy that precedes either a breakthrough or a breakdown. The problem is that no one can say which, because the two-week ceasefire brokered by Pakistan is due to expire on April 22, and the Strait of Hormuz, that slender blue artery through which a fifth of the world’s oil flows, has just been slammed shut again.
Let us be honest about what we are witnessing. This is not diplomacy. This is two exhausted boxers leaning on each other in the fifteenth round, each whispering threats into the other’s ear while pretending to negotiate. President Donald Trump, from the White House podium, declares that good talks are taking place and then, in almost the same breath, announces that the United States has “completely destroyed Iran’s top leadership, navy, and air force.” He speaks of Qassem Soleimani as though his targeted killing had been the final word in a long argument, rather than the opening of a much uglier chapter. He says Iran cannot blackmail the US anymore, and then he says you can call it a forced regime change. That is not a negotiating position. That is a confession.
And yet, the talks are expected to proceed. According to Asghar Ali Mubarak, a senior Pakistani diplomatic analyst, the second round is looming even as the ceasefire clock ticks down. The contradiction is so stark it would be comical if the stakes were not so terrifying. Iran, through its semi-official Tasnim news agency, has made its position quietly but unmistakably clear: no new round has been approved. The impasse, according to sources, is a direct result of the US naval blockade announcement and what Tehran calls unnecessary and excessive demands. Iran will not participate in long and fruitless talks, officials have said. That is a reasonable position dressed in the language of ultimatum.
Meanwhile, the Strait of Hormuz has become a mirror of the absurdity. Iran had, for a merciful moment, allowed a certain number of commercial ships to pass daily after the Pakistan-brokered ceasefire began. But then the ceasefire in Lebanon faltered, and Iran suspended the agreement. Then it was reactivated. Then, on Saturday morning, Iran’s Central Military Command closed the strait again, citing the continued US naval blockade. Saeed Khatibzadeh, Iran’s Deputy Foreign Minister, has emphasized that no date is set for renewed talks because finalizing the negotiation framework is the current priority. That is diplomatic language for: we do not trust you enough to sit down.
Ebrahim Azizi, head of Iran’s National Security Commission, has framed the strait’s closure as a direct consequence of US and Israeli actions. Iranian authorities have gone so far as to declare US naval actions piracy. That word is worth sitting with. Piracy. It is the accusation of the weak against the strong, but it is also a reminder that international law, when it is trampled by one party, becomes a rhetorical weapon in the hands of the other. And yet, beneath all this noise, something else is happening. According to Axios, citing US officials, the two countries are in secret talks over a three-page deal. The terms are almost breathtaking in their simplicity: the United States is willing to release twenty billion dollars in frozen Iranian funds in exchange for Iran dismantling its stockpile of enriched uranium.
Iran has two thousand kilograms of enriched uranium, including four hundred and fifty kilograms enriched to sixty percent. The US wants it gone. Iran wants money. The negotiations have reportedly moved from six billion to twenty billion, but the deeper sticking point is the nuclear material itself. The US wants it transferred out of the country. Iran wants to down-blend it at home. The compromise under discussion involves sending some to a third country and disposing of the rest under international supervision. Iran has been asked to voluntarily suspend enrichment for twenty years; it has agreed to only five.
However, hope is a fragile thing when parked next to a naval blockade. Senior clerics in Iran have taken a harder tone, with Allama Ahmad Khatami reminding his congregation that a nation does not negotiate on the basis of humiliation. President Trump, for his part, hints at good news without providing any. The only genuine good news, so far, is that oil prices have dropped ten percent in global markets. That is not peace. That is just the market betting on the lesser of two evils. The second round of talks will likely happen. Whether they will mean anything is another question entirely. Because when one side announces a naval blockade and the other closes a strait, what exactly are they negotiating? Not peace. Just the terms of the next crisis.
(The writer is a senior journalist covering various beats, can be reached at editorial@metro-morning.com)
