Iran Guards say two ships seized in Hormuz after ceasefire extension

The report, published on Wednesday, focused on the Strait of Hormuz not only as an energy chokepoint but as a critical corridor for submarine cables serving countries around the Persian Gulf, including the UAE, Qatar, Bahrain, Kuwait and Saudi Arabia.

It argued that several major cable systems pass through or near the waterway and said the southern side of the Persian Gulf depends far more heavily than Iran on maritime internet routes.

Rather than reading as a neutral technical explainer, the article appeared to frame those cables, landing stations and data hubs as strategic pressure points in the conflict.

Tasnim also drew attention to the concentration of cloud and data-center infrastructure in states on the southern side of the Persian Gulf, especially the UAE and Bahrain, effectively sketching a map of assets whose disruption could carry major economic and communications consequences.

That warning carries added weight because digital infrastructure has already come under attack in this war.

Recent reporting said Iranian drone strikes hit Amazon Web Services facilities in the UAE and Bahrain, underlining the physical vulnerability of commercial cloud infrastructure in the Persian Gulf.

The Tasnim article suggests Iran-linked media are signaling that undersea cables and regional data hubs now sit alongside ports, shipping lanes and energy facilities in the conflict’s widening map of pressure points.

It said Farid headed a non-military defense management committee at one of the country’s sensitive organizations, without naming it, and had shared information including organizational structures, security arrangements and infrastructure.

Rights groups had earlier said Farid was arrested in 2023 and had been working at the Atomic Energy Organization of Iran. They said he was first held in Tehran’s Greater Tehran prison before being transferred to Evin prison.

Iran Human Rights had reported last year that he was “initially sentenced to 10 years in prison” and, after a retrial, “sentenced to death on charges of spying for Israel.”

The judiciary said Farid had connected internal servers to infected files on instructions from a Mossad officer and enabled outside access to systems using USB devices.

It added that Farid confessed during the case process to transferring information and had been promised payment and help to leave the country.

Rights groups have raised concerns about the use of forced confessions and due process in Iran.

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  Iran family says executed nuclear scientist confessed after threats to mother

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  Iran executes nuclear engineer accused of spying for Israel - rights group

Atomic-linked executions

Iran has carried out several executions in recent months in cases tied to its nuclear sector and alleged links to Israel.

In October, rights group Hengaw said Iran executed Javad Naeimi, described as a nuclear engineer working at the Natanz facility, after convicting him of spying for Israel.

The group said he was hanged in Qom Central Prison and that the execution was carried out in secrecy. Iranian state media reported the execution of a man on espionage charges at the time but did not identify him.

Hengaw said Naeimi had been arrested in February 2024 and sentenced to death after what it described as an opaque judicial process, adding that he was subjected to torture and coerced confessions during interrogation.

In August, Iran executed nuclear scientist Rouzbeh Vadi on similar charges. The judiciary said he had been recruited by Mossad and transferred classified information.

A relative told Iran International that Vadi confessed only after severe torture and threats against his mother, and said the case relied on a televised confession. Rights groups have long raised concerns about the use of forced confessions in such cases.

Following heightened tensions with Israel and the US, Iranian authorities have stepped up arrests, trials and executions in espionage cases, drawing criticism from rights groups and UN experts over due process.

Earlier this month, Israel targeted facilities in Mahshahr and Asaluyeh, Iran’s two principal petrochemical centers, which together account for roughly three-quarters of the country’s output.

According to commercial sources who spoke on condition of anonymity, several petrochemical products have become acutely scarce, particularly polymer grades used in food packaging, plastics and basic manufacturing.

The shortages have forced authorities to explore emergency import options, even as logistical and geopolitical constraints complicate procurement.

The scale of disruption is still being assessed, but industry sources say the impact on domestic supply chains has been immediate.

Najmeh Jamshidi, editor-in-chief of Energy Press, previously reported, citing senior executives at petrochemical complexes, that restoring damaged units and associated infrastructure could take anywhere from six months to two years, depending on the extent of damage.

One source said Russia declined Iran’s request to supply certain polymers, citing a sharp rise in global petrochemical prices linked to disruptions in the Strait of Hormuz. According to the source, Moscow is prioritizing domestic supply to prevent further inflationary pressure in its own market.

Ilham Shaban, head of the Caspian Oil Studies Center, said Russia itself is facing constraints, as some of its petrochemical facilities have been damaged in Ukrainian attacks. This has further limited the country’s ability to meet external demand, particularly for higher-value polymer products.

Before the recent disruptions, Iran exported about 30 million tons of petrochemical products worth roughly $15 billion annually, with polymers accounting for around 12 percent of that volume.

In response to the supply shock, Iranian authorities have moved to ban exports of several petrochemical goods in an effort to stabilize the domestic market.

Another commercial source said Iran has approached Azerbaijan as a potential supplier of polymers, but the country’s limited production capacity makes it unable to significantly offset Iran’s shortfall.

Azerbaijan is also expected to prioritize maintaining its established export markets in Europe and Turkey.

Some of Iran’s Arab neighbours have the scale to potentially offset part of the supply gap. Saudi Arabia alone has about 19 million tons of annual polymer production capacity, while the United Arab Emirates and Qatar are also major exporters.

However, given Iran’s recent attacks on these countries during the conflict, they are unlikely to assist in covering Iran’s shortages.

At the same time, disruptions affecting shipping routes through the Strait of Hormuz over the past two months have pushed global polymer prices up by about 50 percent.

The combination of domestic supply disruptions and tightening international markets has deepened shortages, raising concerns about broader impacts on downstream industries and the availability of consumer goods.

For two decades, the United States sought a durable nuclear settlement with Iran. Each failure strengthened the Islamic Republic. It deepened ties with Russia and China, expanded proxies from Iraq to the Red Sea, and built a missile and drone arsenal while burying key infrastructure underground—beyond inspection and reach.

The revelation of the Pickaxe Mountain facility in June 2025 ended ambiguity. In Washington and Jerusalem, red lines hardened into a single demand: effective surrender of Iran’s military-nuclear-industrial complex.

For all intents and purposes, the Khamenei–IRGC refusal of American–Israeli demands precipitated the February 28–April 8, 2026 conflict—the 40-day war. To outsiders, Tehran’s refusal appeared reckless. The regime, however, believed too much had been invested—in blood and treasure—to retreat without resistance.

With President Trump’s April 8 ceasefire declaration, a new round of diplomacy began in Islamabad (April 11–12, 2026). It lasted twenty-one hours and yielded nothing. Vice President Vance stated plainly that Iran had rejected American terms.

Reports indicated that senior IRGC figures, including Vahidi and Zolghadr, vetoed any concession. Authority was fractured; Ghalibaf’s delegation could not bind the state. The collapse exposed internal divisions and set the pattern ahead.

Tehran signalled its readiness to escalate—threatening to close the Strait of Hormuz, recover concealed arsenals, with strikes on Gulf monarchies’ energy infrastructure.

Trump ordered a naval blockade of Iranian ports. As both sides manoeuvred behind the scenes, Tehran’s April 17 declaration that the strait remained open was swiftly overtaken, as Washington seized upon it as evidence of capitulation while maintaining the blockade. Trump nevertheless indicated that talks would continue.

Yet Vice President Vance’s planned return to Islamabad has now been placed on hold after Tehran failed to respond to American negotiating positions. The diplomatic track is no longer merely fragile—it is suspended.

Even if revived at short notice, the underlying reality remains unchanged: any Iranian delegation would face the same internal veto, and any concession would deepen recent humiliations—the decapitation of senior leadership and the degradation of strategic infrastructure.

It is at sea that the confrontation sharpens.

Washington maintains that its blockade is a lawful belligerent measure under the law of armed conflict at sea, subject to effectiveness, proportionality, and notification as reflected in customary law and articulated in the San Remo Manual (1994).

Tehran, by contrast, operates under narrower constraints. Though not party to the UN Convention on the Law of the Sea (1982), it remains bound by customary international law.

Transit passage through the Strait of Hormuz—Articles 37–44 of UNCLOS—cannot be suspended, even in armed conflict, as affirmed in the Corfu Channel case (1949) and reflected in the 1958 Territorial Sea Convention. Any attempt to mine or disrupt the strait would violate both the law of the sea and the law of armed conflict at sea and fail the tests of necessity and proportionality under Article 51.

What once served Tehran as deterrence now operates as constraint. Geography, turned against it, has become Washington’s leverage.

That leverage is already being applied through calibrated force. The recent strike on the Toska vessel, confined to the engine room, demonstrated how force may be applied with precision and restraint at once. Restraint, therefore, has been calculation, not limitation. This is not indiscriminate destruction but controlled degradation.

During the 40-day war, US–Israeli strikes targeted steel, gas, and petrochemical hubs with precision. They may resort to that practice again.

There is precedent. During Operation Allied Force in Kosovo in 1999, NATO struck power plants, depriving Serbia of over seventy per cent of its electricity. The logic was calibrated escalation in the service of coercion.

Should negotiations fail, the next rungs are visible: precision strikes on power grids, bridges, and transport arteries. The Kosovo template may yet be reprised in the Persian Gulf.

Over the past year—across Ukraine, Gaza, and in dealings with China—President Trump has demonstrated a consistent posture: he neither retreats nor entertains settlements that suggest humiliation.

Lest we forget the chorus that once insisted President Trump would refrain from a prolonged conflict—that oil shocks would stay his hand, that he would restrain Israel, or that he would contrive accommodation with Tehran.

Events have ruthlessly overtaken these assumptions, leaving in their place a single, unambiguous note: the President now declares that the blockade “is absolutely destroying Iran” and will not be lifted until there is a “deal”—one he insists will be “far better” than the JCPOA.

Across the divide, Ghalibaf answers in a discordant key, rejecting negotiations “under the shadow of threats” while signalling preparation for escalation.

Trump is dividing and conquering on two fronts. He drives a lethal wedge between Ghalibaf’s faction—seeking a face-saving accommodation—and hardliners such as Vahidi and Zolghadr who command the instruments of force.

If Ghalibaf prevails, Trump imposes his terms and claims victory. If the hardliners purge him, they will be branded irredeemable extremists, and what remains of the regime will be subjected to decisive force. In either outcome, the structure of pressure favours Washington.

This is coercive diplomacy in its classical form. It draws from Thomas Schelling’s The Strategy of Conflict and Arms and Influence, fused with what Jeffrey Sonnenfeld describes as Trump’s “divide and conquer” doctrine—his so-called Ten Commandments.

A public commitment device raises audience costs and forces a stark binary: agreement or refusal. The “threat that leaves something to chance”—brinkmanship—is fully engaged. Each rung narrows retreat and magnifies miscalculation.

Contrary to prevailing punditry, the 40-day war has turned Tehran and Washington into adversaries locked in a contest of endurance. Attacks on regional energy infrastructure have eroded tolerance, while American resilience has diminished Iran’s deterrent card. What once compelled caution now invites pressure.

Vice President Vance’s journey to Islamabad has now been halted. If no credible Iranian response emerges, detonation will follow—not in metaphor, but in action. The United States and Israel may then treat the remaining IRGC leadership as beyond restraint—men whose decisions invite elimination rather than negotiation.

The outcome now narrows to a single choice: acceptance—or detonation.

Amir-Mohammad Shahkarami, an eighth-grade student, vanished as security forces suppressed demonstrations in Shahre Qods, located west of Tehran. For two months, his family faced a series of conflicting reports from Iranian authorities regarding his safety.

On January 10, two days after he went missing, the boy's mobile phone was turned on. Government agents used the device to contact the family and tell them he was alive. Officials at the local judiciary later supported this account, telling the parents that the teenager was in custody and that a court had already issued a sentence against him.

The family also tried to find information through the Department of Education, but officials there labeled his file as "confidential" and refused to speak.

A 'finish-off' shot

After 60 days of silence, forensic officials finally called the family to identify a body. The body of the 14-year-old was delivered to the family.

When the family examined the body, they found a gunshot wound to the temple, a type of injury often described by rights groups as a "finish-off" shot. Large bruises also covered his chest and side.

Patterns of deception

The teenager’s death highlights the uncertainty facing many families of young detainees who disappeared during the January protests. Despite the assurances given to his parents in the weeks following his disappearance, the physical evidence on his body pointed to a violent death.

Rights groups have documented cases where Iranian authorities provide families with false information about the health or legal status of detained relatives to delay public reporting or to manage the fallout of deaths in custody.

The Iranian government has not explained why various state agencies told the family the boy was alive and sentenced while he was either already dead or facing terminal abuse in custody.