How Iran’s infighting consistently derails diplomacy

“I think in order for talks to actually lead to something meaningful, they will have to include certain things,” Rubio said, listing Iran’s ballistic missile program, its support for armed groups across the region and its treatment of its own citizens, alongside the nuclear issue.

“I’m not sure you can reach a deal with these guys,” he added. “But we’re going to try to find out.”

That position has been widely criticized by Iranian opposition figures and activists, who say engaging Tehran so soon after a deadly nationwide crackdown risks normalizing mass violence.

More than 36,000 protesters were killed during the January crackdown, according to Iran International’s Editorial Board, with many more detained and facing harsh punishment, including lengthy prison sentences and possible executions.

Rubio appeared to respond to that criticism by emphasizing what he described as President Donald Trump’s willingness to engage diplomatically without conferring legitimacy.

“President Trump is willing to talk to and meet with and engage with anyone in the world,” Rubio said. “We don’t view meetings as even a little legitimization.”

The talks are expected to begin on Friday, but confusion continues to surround their scope, format and even location.

Rubio said US officials believed a forum in Turkey had been agreed upon, only to see Iranian statements disputing that account. “That’s still being worked through,” he said.

An Iranian official quoted by Reuters on Wednesday appeared to suggest that a shift in venue to Oman had been confirmed.

The official also contradicted Washington’s position on the scope of talks, insisting they would be limited strictly to Iran’s nuclear program and exclude its missile capabilities.

President Trump said earlier this week that “bad things will probably happen” if no deal is reached.

For nearly three weeks, millions inside Iran were cut off from the outside world as authorities imposed sweeping restrictions on internet access and international phone lines after the violent suppression of protests. For Iranians in the diaspora, the silence was devastating.

Many describe days and nights spent refreshing news feeds, replaying worst-case scenarios, and bracing for phone calls that never came. Even when limited connections were restored, the anxiety did not ease.

“Psychologically, not knowing what is happening—or whether family members are safe—keeps the body and mind in a prolonged state of stress,” Canadian-Iranian clinical counsellor Farnaz Farrokhi told Iran International.

A state of constant alarm

Farrokhi says many in the diaspora are experiencing “constant anxiety, compulsive news checking, feelings of helplessness and guilt, and emotional disconnection from loved ones.”

“What I’m seeing is the continuation of collective trauma, layered on top of long-standing emotional wounds from years of instability, loss, and fear,” she said, adding that many are also grappling with survivor’s guilt—being physically safe while loved ones are not.

For Narges, an IT specialist living in the Netherlands, the days of disconnection were unbearable.

“At work, my colleagues’ laughter and jokes were painful,” she said. “But I couldn’t—and didn’t have the right to—transfer my anxiety to them. I couldn’t interact the way I normally do.”

She took two days off, hoping rest would help. It did not.

“At home it was no better. Every time the phone rang, the doorbell sounded, or even a small object fell, I jumped. My heart would start racing.”

Trauma spilling into family life

For Taraneh, an Iranian living in Italy, the emotional toll extended to her six-year-old son.

“I try very hard not to let my son see the painful images—bodies piled together in black bags,” she said. “But sometimes I can’t hide my grief or my tears.”

Her son keeps asking why she is crying.

“I don’t have an answer that makes sense to him,” she said. “And not being able to explain my feelings makes me feel even worse.”

Even after limited international calls were allowed, communication remained fragile. Calls were brief, unstable, and often cut off without warning. Some families waited days for a single connection.

Fear of surveillance shaped many conversations. Families resorted to coded language, wary that saying too much could endanger loved ones.

“When my parents finally called, we could only cry. We didn’t know what to say to each other,” said Leila, a London-based Iranian expat. “We both knew about the massacre, but we couldn’t talk about it because there was every reason to believe our conversation wouldn’t stay private.”

“My mum said it had rained a lot there,” Leila recalled. “I knew she meant the bloodshed—not rain. It hadn’t rained at all.”

An open wound

For some, reconnection brought devastating news: learning days—or even weeks—later that relatives or friends had been killed, injured, or arrested.

“Today I saw the father of one of my child’s classmates at the school gate,” Germany-based mother Neda Soltani wrote on X. “He looked stunned. He burst into tears and said his cousin in Tehran had been killed—and he had only found out this morning.”

“Two Iranians stood there crying at the school gate,” she added. “Others just walked past.”

Farrokhi warns that without acknowledgement, safety, and the restoration of trust and communication, the psychological toll on the diaspora will continue to deepen.

“This is not just about grief,” she said. “It’s about living in a constant state of alarm—never knowing when the next rupture will come.”

US officials said American forces shot down an Iranian drone after it approached a US Navy aircraft carrier in the Arabian Sea, and later intervened when armed Iranian boats harassed a US-flagged merchant vessel transiting the Strait of Hormuz.

The incidents underscored the fragility of a diplomatic process that Washington and Tehran had suggested was back on track only a day earlier.

Iran’s foreign ministry sought to downplay growing uncertainty around talks expected later this week, saying discussions over the venue and timing were ongoing and should not be “turned into a media issue.”

Esmail Baghaei, the ministry’s spokesman, said Turkey, Oman and other regional countries had offered to host the talks, and thanked “friendly countries” for helping create conditions for diplomacy.

“In principle, the venue and timing of talks are not complicated issues and should not be used as a pretext for media games,” Baghaei said, adding that details would be announced once finalized.

Behind the scenes, however, Iranian officials appeared to be revisiting earlier understandings. Reuters and Axios reported that Tehran was seeking to move the talks from Istanbul to Oman and to limit discussions strictly to the nuclear file, excluding missiles and support for regional armed groups—issues that Washington and regional allies have said must be addressed.

Axios cited informed sources saying Iran was “walking back” agreements reached in recent days after other countries had already been invited to participate.

The Wall Street Journal reported that Iranian officials had also threatened to pull out of talks altogether, though it was not immediately clear what prompted the warning.

At sea, the confrontations continued. US Central Command said Iranian Revolutionary Guard forces harassed a US-flagged, US-crewed merchant vessel in the Strait of Hormuz, while a US fighter jet downed an Iranian drone that had approached a carrier strike group.

Iranian state-linked media said the drone was conducting a “routine and lawful mission” in international waters and that data had been transmitted successfully before contact was lost.

White House press secretary Karoline Leavitt said talks with US envoy Steve Witkoff were still scheduled, but stressed that military options remained on the table. “For diplomacy to work, of course, it takes two to tango,” she said.

Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu struck a harsher note, saying Iran “has repeatedly proven it cannot be trusted to keep its promises.”

As talks expected later this week faltered over venue and format,tensions in the Persian Gulf continued to rise.

On Tuesday, US forces shot down an Iranian Shahed-139 drone approaching a US aircraft carrier in the Arabian Sea, while armed Iranian boats attempted to stop a US-flagged oil tanker in the Strait of Hormuz.

White House spokeswoman Karoline Leavitt said hours later that talks between US envoy Steve Witkoff and Iran’s foreign minister Abbas Araghchi were “still scheduled” despite the escalatory events. “For diplomacy to work, of course, it takes two to tango,” she added, warning that a military option remained on the table.

Together, these developments capture the defining contradiction of the moment: diplomacy is being pursued, but the conditions that might allow it to succeed remain elusive.

Familiar pattern

Iran’s leadership enters this phase struggling with military setbacks, economic collapse and mass protest that have narrowed its strategic options. The Islamic Republic’s capacity to absorb pressure—long central to its survival—has markedly diminished.

It is against this backdrop that diplomacy has resurfaced, haltingly. The pattern is familiar: engagement paired with coercive signalling, compromise floated even as escalation continues.

The analytical question, then, is not whether a negotiated outcome is possible. It is whether any agreement reached under such conditions can resolve the underlying conflict without accelerating regime destabilisation.

Washington’s publicly articulated demands extend well beyond nuclear fuel cycles. They include eliminating domestic enrichment, constraining Iran’s ballistic missile programme, and ending support for armed groups across the region.

Tehran’s dilemma

Taken together, these demands strike at the institutional and ideological foundations of the Islamic Republic, while implicitly challenging its reliance on internal repression to maintain control.

Compliance would generate a strategic paradox. Nuclear rollback would weaken deterrence; missile constraints would erode Iran’s asymmetric posture; proxy disengagement would dismantle its regional influence architecture; and ideological retreat would hollow out the revolutionary legitimacy that sustains clerical authority.

No historical precedent suggests the Islamic Republic can survive such cumulative disarmament intact. The more fully Tehran complies, the less viable the regime becomes.

The protests of late 2025 and early 2026—unfolding as the rial fell to historic lows—rapidly evolved into demonstrations rejecting clerical rule and calling for systemic change.

Wary neighbours

Regional reactions, particularly among Persian Gulf states, remain ambivalent. Some governments privately fear that an Iranian transition could introduce instability or renewed competition.

Yet history suggests a more complex picture. During the 1970s, within the Cold War security framework of the period, Iran functioned as a stabilising pillar of regional order rather than a source of disruption—an approach sharply at odds with the Islamic Republic’s subsequent reliance on proxy warfare.

For the United States, the strategic dilemma is increasingly constrained. Sustaining a large forward military posture—carrier strike groups, advanced air assets, missile defence systems, and logistics—carries steep financial and opportunity costs.

Conservative estimates place the monthly expense well above one billion dollars, at a time when Washington faces mounting pressures in East Asia, renewed instability in the Western Hemisphere, and competing domestic priorities.

Interactable problem?

These constraints are sharpened by signals from the White House, where. President Donald Trump has repeatedly asserted that the United States would come to the aid of Iranian demonstrators if violent repression continued.

Such statements are not cost-free. Repeated often, they risk transforming intervention from a contingency into an expectation, narrowing Washington’s room for manoeuvre should events move faster than policy can adapt.

A negotiated settlement that leaves Iran’s coercive capabilities partially intact risks repeating earlier cycles of temporary de-escalation followed by strategic relapse. Yet comprehensive Iranian compliance would likely accelerate regime fragmentation by stripping away the pillars that sustain clerical authority. Indefinite military pressure, meanwhile, is fiscally and strategically unsustainable.

President Trump therefore confronts not a binary choice, but a narrowing decision space shaped by volatility and exhaustion. Each available pathway carries consequences that extend beyond Iran itself, affecting US credibility, regional security, and the broader balance of power.

What distinguishes the present moment is not diplomatic momentum but strategic fatigue.

Negotiation still holds the possibility of de-escalation, but it no longer offers an obvious route to durable equilibrium. Instead, it points toward competing trajectories of erosion or escalation. How Washington manages this unstable phase will shape not only Iran’s future, but the strategic contours of the Middle East for years to come.

A quick look at the main headlines on the IRGC-linked Tasnim News Agency on Monday captured the mood in Tehran: “Possibility of Iran–US Negotiations Confirmed,” “Implications for America if War Spreads Across the Region,” and “With Trump’s Conditions, There Will Be No Negotiations.”

Together, they betray a system simultaneously preparing for talks, threatening escalation, and insisting negotiations are impossible.

Despite the government’s efforts to project calm beneath Tehran’s smog-covered skyline, a speech on Sunday by Supreme Leader Ali Khamenei only deepened the sense of foreboding.

Khamenei recounted a joke from his native province of Khorasan about a man boasting of how close he was to marrying the woman he loved. “Only two steps remain,” the man says. “I ask her father for her hand, and he replies: ‘How dare you!’”

Those seated around Khamenei, including his financial confidant Mohammad Mokhber, smiled uncertainly—perhaps only gradually realizing that, in Khamenei’s telling, the hopeful suitor was US President Donald Trump, and the disapproving father was Khamenei himself.

‘American graveyard’

For opportunistic politicians and commentators in Tehran, the message was unmistakable: recent claims by Foreign Minister Abbas Araghchi and security chief Ali Larijani about ongoing negotiations with Washington mattered far less than the Supreme Leader’s evident reluctance to engage.

On the central question—whether Iran is prepared to make concessions—Khamenei remains firmly unwilling to yield.

Hardliners, who had briefly lowered their volume in anticipation of a possible diplomatic opening, appeared to have received the memo and quickly returned to form.

In parliament, the cleric Mohammad Taghi Naghdali declared that Iran should not only close the Strait of Hormuz but also disrupt Europe’s shipping routes and gas export networks, while calling for reduced cooperation with the International Atomic Energy Agency.

The rhetoric soon veered into the absurd. The managing director of Tehran’s main cemetery, Behesht-e Zahra, claimed he had prepared 5,000 graves for US soldiers he believed would be killed on the first day of a war with Iran.

The statement was swiftly refuted by Tehran city councillor Jafar Tashakori, who warned that reckless remarks could trigger crises “far beyond domestic politics.”

Vested interests

Even seasoned analysts struggled to impose coherence on the moment. Political commentator Ali Bigdeli said no one could say with certainty whether war was coming, arguing that Iran’s only viable path forward lay in direct talks with the United States.

While Iran’s official position, articulated by Araghchi, is that any talks must be confined to the nuclear file, Bigdeli cautioned that Washington’s ambitions extend to Tehran’s missile program and its regional allies.

“Trump is not interested in a direct war with Iran,” Bigdeli told the moderate outlet Khabar Online. “But he is unlikely to leave the region with his armada without achieving something.”

Ebrahim Rezai, spokesperson for parliament’s National Security Committee, cited a briefing by IRGC Aerospace Force commanders to assert that any US attack would trap American forces in a regional war.

Yet another conservative figure, Hossein Naghavi Hosseini, cautioned that those beating the drums of war in Tehran were playing into Israel’s hands.

Taken together, the cacophony points less to confidence than to paralysis: a system torn between waiting for a signal from the top and being pulled in opposing directions by vested interests, each pressing for the outcome it prefers.