On Day One, Israel and Iran bombed the “nuclear facilities” of Iran to “smithereens,” and declared that Iran had been set back by decades in its quest for a nuclear weapon. After sending the ball into the goal - between ever-shifting goalposts - removing the shirt, and running around the pitch in celebration, to the vociferous appreciation of supporters, the USA and Israel seemed convinced the match was won.

Yet, within months, the game took a different turn. The USA and Israel struck again, this time going far beyond facilities. They targeted Iran’s top leadership, degraded its military capacity, and, in the process, caused significant collateral damage to Iranian civilians. Iran, in turn, retaliated—counterattacking Israel and striking U.S. military bases across the Middle East—again with inevitable civilian costs.

Somewhere along the way, the USA appeared to realize it had scored a self-goal. Here you go—a bit different from what is going around.

Then, on a quiet morning, a pause in hostilities was announced. Interestingly, it was only the USA and Iran - not Israel, not the Arab states, not even the GCC - that sat across the table. Negotiations began, but seemed unable to move beyond the appetizers.

Two familiar bones of contention resurfaced. First, that Iran should not pursue nuclear weapons, something Iran, for decades, has consistently stated it does not intend to build. Second, the opening of the Strait of Hormuz for trade - ironically, a route that had remained open and functional before the conflict began.

And through all this, the Palestinians, on whose behalf Iran was often said to be taking positions, barely merited a mention, not even in passing.

Will the Ceasefire Hold? 

The situation now is that Iran is unlikely to agree to what it once agreed to years ago. And perhaps, from its perspective, the hesitation is not without reason. There may be a lingering question - if it does agree, what guarantees exist that the United States will not walk away again and resort to force? The fear may not just be of bombs, but of the erasure of a civilisation - millennia old - reduced, in rhetoric if not reality, to the “stone age.” Such language, even when meant as deterrence, is often perceived as arrogance, and rarely helps the cause it seeks to advance.

Even without the rhetoric, this was never going to be an easy negotiation. The last time Iran’s nuclear program was brought under a framework of control, it took weeks of sustained, patient engagement. What we see now suggests that far more than a nuclear arrangement is at stake. Which raises a question; was this entire build-up, played out before a watching world, ever meant to culminate in a serious agreement? Or was the table laid more for spectacle than for substance?

Lawmakers across the political aisle in the United States continue to express hope that there is room for further negotiations before the ceasefire frays. The irony is hard to miss. Those who possess the authority to act appear unwilling to do so, even when circumstances demand it.

The expectation, of course, is that both the United States and Iran will hold the ceasefire. Anything else, and the cost will not be confined to the region. The world - including those who initiated and escalated the conflict - will lose. And lose heavily.

There is also the question of the Strait of Hormuz. Threats of a blockade are not new. History offers a parallel, when Iran nationalised its oil industry under Prime Minister Mohammad Mossadegh, external powers responded with coercive measures of their own. In that light, any renewed attempt to control or restrict the Strait will inevitably be viewed by many as another assertion of power, an echo of an older, imperial instinct to dictate terms to others.

And then there is China. A major buyer of Iranian oil, it sits quietly in the background - watching, calculating. How it chooses to respond, or not respond, may well shape the next phase of this unfolding story.

Is there another way to end this war?

Playing now on a pitch unintended, perhaps even unforeseen, by the USA, the theatre shifts to the Strait of Hormuz. Here, the attackers may find themselves in unfamiliar territory. The risk is that reluctant nations, including China, could be drawn in.

Hypothetically, if that were to happen, where would Europe and NATO stand? They do not want war. Will they watch from the sidelines, along with India? One can already imagine the smirks - but a possibility remains a possibility.

Pressurising the US

Can the so-called “world powers” collectively exert enough pressure on the USA to take an off-ramp and return to diplomacy? And not just bilateral diplomacy, but one with a larger table - where more nations have a seat, lending credibility and balance to the process. Otherwise, the danger of the conflict spreading across the region, and possibly beyond, remains real.

At what point does global pressure become strong enough for the USA to take note? That remains an open question.

There is also the matter of political pressure within the United States. Beyond moments of rhetorical nationalism, much of the American public appears wary of a prolonged conflict. The lessons of Iraq and Afghanistan seem to linger. There appears to be little appetite for another extended engagement that risks becoming open-ended.

Which makes it important that the American public is spoken to clearly and straightly, about why this war was undertaken, and on what basis. If the foundations were shaped by misjudgment, exaggeration, or incomplete assessments, then that too may, at some stage, need to be acknowledged. For when the premise is uncertain, the outcomes rarely align with intent.

Strategic Objectives 

There are also questions being raised, quietly in some quarters - more openly in others - about whether broader strategic objectives are at play, including the possibility of regional influence being exercised through existing alignments. Whether such perceptions are accurate or not, they exist and they shape how actions are interpreted.

Political timelines may also weigh on decision-making. Electoral considerations, congressional dynamics, and leadership pressures could all influence the choices ahead. It is possible that public mood, media scrutiny, and opposition narratives will increasingly intersect with strategic decisions, making the path forward more complex than it already is.

In the next round of negotiations, if progress is to move beyond the aperitif and the starters, it will require a larger table, a much larger table. And perhaps, a more experienced hand, one that understands that in matters such as these, timing, patience, and proportion matter as much as power.

Wars may begin with power—but they end by exposing who never had control.

(The author is an Indian Army veteran and a contemporary affairs commentator. The views are personal. He can be reached at  kl.viswanathan@gmail.com )