Monday, June 29, 2026

US–Iran: A ceasefire Washington reads as a concession

The post-war MoU with Iran is being sold as a compromise. In practice, it is a narrow deal shaped by the need to end a war that could not be sustained.

The framework that halted the 2026 war with Iran has been read across much of Washington as a giveaway. Critics on the right treat the memorandum of understanding (MoU) as a reward handed to a country that should have been left to absorb the consequences of the fighting. 

The comparison that has traveled furthest places the sanctions relief alongside the 2015 nuclear accord, as if Tehran has been readmitted to the global economy in a single step.

That reading does not hold. Washington made concessions to end the war and restore traffic through the Strait of Hormuz. The arrangement reflects those priorities. What Iran receives is narrower than the public debate suggests, and much of it remains uncertain in both scope and duration. The terms set out in the MoU fall into three distinct categories.

What Iran actually receives

The first covers the benefits Iran will gain in practice. These amount to access to roughly $12 billion of its own funds held abroad, along with a waiver allowing it to sell oil and oil products during a 60-day negotiating window. 

Iran was already selling that oil, much of it to China, so the waiver does not open a closed market. What it does is narrow the sanctions discount Iran has been forced to accept on each barrel, which has already shrunk to $1 a barrel, and make it easier to bring the proceeds home. The gain is real, but it is counted in margins rather than in any return to the world economy.

There is also a political dimension to this access. The ability to bring funds home without the same level of friction matters for domestic stability, particularly after a period of sustained pressure on the economy. Yet even here, the effect should not be overstated. These are Iran’s own funds, released under conditions that can shift quickly, and the broader sanctions architecture remains intact.

The second category includes concessions that are temporary and reversible. The clearest is the withdrawal of US forces from Iran’s periphery. That move carries weight, but its durability is uncertain. The record of the US President Donald Trump administration weakens confidence in any commitments it makes, and the drawdown was partly inevitable. 

The US cannot sustain that level of deployment in the region indefinitely. Some retrenchment would have come regardless of any agreement.

Even the release of frozen assets can be reversed in practice. Former US president Joe Biden's administration unfroze around $6 billion in Iranian funds, only to refreeze them under domestic and Israeli pressure. Episodes like this have eroded American credibility over time. A concession that can be undone with a signature is discounted before it is even tested, and that discount shapes how Tehran reads the present framework.

Reversibility now sits at the center of the talks. The familiar point that Iran and the US do not trust one another has been repeated for years, but the character of that mistrust has shifted. During the 2013 to 2015 negotiations, Iranian officials questioned whether Washington would uphold its commitments over time. 

What has changed is the character of the mistrust. Iranian officials in that period doubted American fidelity over the long run, whereas they now begin from the assumption that Trump will actively look for ways to abrogate its commitments before the ink is dry on any agreement. 

Diplomatic credibility matters in ways Trump never appreciated. A concession that can be undone with a signature is discounted heavily before it is even weighed, and that discount falls hardest on the parts of this framework that matter most.

The third category concerns what has not been committed at all. The removal of sanctions and the creation of a $300 billion investment fund are not present obligations. They are conditional statements tied to the conclusion of a broader nuclear deal within the 60-day window.

In fact, the $300 investment fund idea, originally proposed by the GCC countries during last year’s negotiations in Oman, is still a highly abstract concept. 

Despite the White House claiming money has been committed, the structure and parameters of the fund are unclear and are likely still in the initial planning phase. Whether a fund like this will attract $300 billion, a figure of unknown providence, or whether it will ever exist at all is highly speculative. 

After the 2015 Joint Comprehensive Plan of Action (JCPOA), despite US assurances and a far better geopolitical climate, global investors were hesitant to even lend Iran money outside of a one-year repayment timeline. They feared that the deal breaking down would prevent Iran from repaying them. It does little for the politics of the agreement that its most eye-catching line items are the ones being held back. 

The nuclear file returns

Less attention has been paid to what Iran may offer in return. Beyond the downblending of its stockpile of highly enriched uranium, the picture remains unclear. That uncertainty is itself part of the story, reflecting both the pace of the negotiations and the political constraints on all sides.

In the round of talks that preceded both the recent war and the earlier 12-day conflict, Iran signaled a willingness to suspend enrichment for a number of years. It also indicated a return to enrichment capped at 3.67 percent under close inspection by the International Atomic Energy Agency (IAEA), along with a zero stockpiling provision. The details are technical, but such a framework would significantly reduce proliferation risks and extend the time required for any potential breakout.

There is no guarantee that the same terms are on the table now. Majlis Speaker Mohammad Bagher Ghalibaf stated that “We will not return to pre-war conditions.” Although his remarks focused on the Strait of Hormuz, they have been read more broadly as a signal that Tehran expects a different balance in any renewed agreement. 

Foreign Minister Abbas Araghchi has also indicated that “as of now, no decisions have been made” and that Iran's approach to concessions needs to be established by the Supreme National Security Council and achieve the approval of the supreme leader. 

Even so, a deal that includes elements of earlier proposals, such as a multi-year suspension of possibly 10 years or more, and limits on stockpiling, would represent a significant outcome for Washington. It would allow the Trump administration to argue that it secured deeper concessions than those achieved under former US president Barack Obama, even if the path to that outcome has been shaped by a far more volatile set of circumstances.

That claim would not erase the consequences of earlier policy. When the US withdrew from the nuclear deal, it released Iran from constraints on research and development. Iran has since advanced its enrichment capabilities, including the development and deployment of more efficient centrifuges. The objective that once guided American policy, keeping Iran at least a year away from sufficient material for a nuclear weapon, is no longer achievable in the same form.

Comparisons with the Obama-era agreement, therefore, require care. The 2015 deal suspended secondary sanctions on a broad and open-ended basis. It enabled Iran to re-engage with global markets and regain access to assets abroad, estimated at over $100 billion. Trade expanded, financial channels reopened, and Iranian businesses gained room to operate within a more predictable environment.

The current framework does not offer anything comparable. Its economic impact is far smaller and more tightly defined, and it does not alter the underlying structure of sanctions in a lasting way.

A more useful comparison lies with the Joint Plan of Action, the interim agreement that preceded the 2015 deal. The present terms are more generous than the earlier arrangement, for a clear reason. Washington needed to secure the reopening of the Strait of Hormuz and stabilize energy flows. That requirement shaped the concessions on offer, and it explains why the terms appear uneven when measured against broader strategic ambitions.

A deal shaped by limits

There is no certainty that the 60-day window will produce a lasting agreement. The same reversibility that weakens American commitments also limits Iran’s incentives to make binding concessions, and both sides are operating within tight political constraints.

The MoU follows a military campaign that killed senior Iranian figures and thousands of civilians. It emerges from a context in which Washington does not hold decisive leverage, despite its military reach. Any expectation of symmetry in the outcome rests on an assumption that does not match the balance of forces or the costs already incurred.

The agreement should be read in that light. It reflects an attempt to contain the consequences of a war that did not produce a decisive outcome. The decision to pursue the conflict set the parameters within which diplomacy now operates, narrowing the space for more ambitious objectives.

For policymakers in Washington, the question is not how many concessions have been exchanged, but what the arrangement achieves in practice. Goals such as overthrowing the Iranian government, forcing capitulation, or removing Iran from regional influence were never realistic. The present moment offers a narrower opportunity, shaped by the limits exposed during the conflict.

The US has a real opportunity to address the Iranian nuclear issue permanently and reform its relationship with Iran at a time when president after president has made clear that US national security imperatives lie elsewhere in the world. 

Trying to lock up as many Iranian assets in Qatari bank accounts or obstruct Iranian petrochemical sales for as long as possible should not be the measure of diplomatic success.

That requires a degree of consistency that has been lacking in recent years, as well as a willingness to accept outcomes that fall short of maximalist goals.

The MoU does not resolve these questions. It creates space in which they might be addressed, while also exposing the limits of what can be achieved in the current moment. Whether that space is used will depend on decisions that have yet to be made, and on whether both sides are prepared to move beyond the patterns that have defined their relationship for decades.

Rails of power: Inside the race to redraw West Asia’s trade map

 Rails of power: Inside the race to redraw West Asia’s trade map As chokepoints come under strain, the Hejaz Railway and Development Road are driving a new challenge to US-backed corridors.

Global trade runs through a few narrow chokepoints – Hormuz, Suez, Bab al-Mandab. When they come under pressure, the shock travels far. War has brought that into focus. Now the shift is toward land routes.

At the center of this shift is the proposed New Hejaz Railway, paired with Iraq’s Development Road Project linking the Persian Gulf to Europe via Turkiye. Together, they point to a reordering of how goods move across West Asia. 

The focus is shifting toward overland routes that bypass exposed maritime chokepoints, with wider implications for the region’s political economy.

From a geostrategic standpoint, the project aims to insert itself into the architecture of global trade corridors, not merely complementing existing routes but competing with them.

A corridor across contested ground

The main line of the New Hejaz Railway is designed to connect Turkiye, Syria, Jordan, and Saudi Arabia, forming a continuous axis with access to Europe and Africa. A branch from Aqaba would provide an outlet to the Red Sea, while access to the Indian Ocean would remain tied to the Bab al-Mandab chokepoint.

The line extends to the holy city of Mecca, but notably stops short of Jeddah. The absence of a second Red Sea outlet reflects the political realities of the Horn of Africa and Yemen. Somaliland’s alignment with Israel, Ethiopia’s close ties, and the presence of Ansarallah-aligned forces in Yemen all complicate any expansion along that route.

More consequential may be the southeastern extension. Branching off from Saudi Arabia, it would terminate at Oman’s Port of Duqm. This would establish a direct rail–sea corridor linking Europe to South Asia, Southeast Asia, and Oceania – effectively repositioning the southeastern Arabian Peninsula as a gateway between continents.

War reshapes the logic of trade

Conflict has accelerated the push for alternative corridors. Escalation following the US-Israeli war against Iran, the risk of spillover into Gulf states, and the persistent threat to the Hormuz–Bab al-Mandab–Red Sea axis have exposed the fragility of existing routes. The closure – or even partial disruption – of these chokepoints carries global consequences.

Saudi Arabia’s East–West Pipeline offers a preview of this logic in practice. Running 1,200 kilometers from Abqaiq to Yanbu, with a capacity of 7 million barrels per day (bpd), it bypasses Hormuz entirely. The same principle now extends beyond energy to goods ranging from petrochemicals to food.

The financial capacity exists to act on this shift. Gulf sovereign wealth funds, controlling assets estimated at $5 trillion, are expected to prioritize infrastructure investment in the lead-up to 2030. Without coordinated financing – particularly between Turkiye and Saudi Arabia for reconstruction in Syria – the railway itself remains aspirational. With it, the project becomes plausible.

Rebuilding the missing links

The proposed railway would stretch roughly 3,200 kilometers, running from Istanbul through Eskisehir, Konya, Adana, Aleppo, Damascus, and Amman before reaching Mecca. Travel time is projected at around 24 hours.

Transport ministers from Turkiye, Syria, and Jordan have already signed a trilateral memorandum of understanding (MoU) aimed at developing rail, road, and logistics connectivity across the three countries.

The immediate task is reconstruction. Syria’s network remains damaged by war, while Jordan must build new north–south connections linking the Syrian border to Aqaba. Track gauge differences – 1,050 millimeters in parts of Syria versus the standard 1,435 millimeters – require standardization. Without it, integration remains incomplete.

Turkiye has already reopened a rehabilitated 350-kilometer railway corridor along its Syrian border, a route Ankara sees as an integral component of the planned Development Road connecting the Persian Gulf to Europe.

Beyond Mecca, toward strategic competition

The section beyond Mecca carries the project’s broader ambition. After more than a century, Turkiye and Saudi Arabia have agreed to revive the line and integrate it with routes leading to the Arabian Sea.

The immediate aim is to move Gulf energy and industrial goods to Europe without passing through Hormuz or Suez. The larger objective is more disruptive. The corridor is positioned as a counterweight to the India–Middle East–Europe Economic Corridor (IMEC), which has been promoted with US backing as a southern alternative to China’s Belt and Road Initiative (BRI). 

In this sense, the railway is not simply about logistics. It is part of a contest over who shapes the next phase of Eurasian connectivity.

Oman at the center of the shift

If the corridor materializes, its most critical node may be Oman.

Duqm Port, envisioned as the ocean gateway of the New Hejaz Railway, sits at the heart of Oman’s Vision 2040 strategy. Designed to bypass Hormuz entirely, it has the depth and capacity to host the world’s largest container ships.

Its technical specifications underline its ambition. With an 18-meter basin, a 19-meter approach channel, and the ability to handle vessels of up to 20,000 TEU, Duqm is built for scale. Its commercial quay stretches 1,600 meters, with capacity for millions of containers and significant bulk cargo.

Salalah and Sohar reinforce this positioning. Salalah has expanded to 6.5 million TEU and ranks among the world’s most efficient ports. Sohar continues to scale up capacity and storage. Together, they anchor Oman’s bid to become a central node in Indian Ocean trade.

This positioning carries added weight at a moment when the Strait of Hormuz is once again under strain, reinforcing Oman’s role not just as a logistics hub, but as a gatekeeper to one of the world’s most sensitive maritime chokepoints.

The powers that can block it

The project’s scale and ambition are likely to draw resistance, particularly from countries aligned with IMEC – including India, the UAE, Israel, Cyprus, and Greece – who stand to lose strategic positioning if trade shifts away from their routes.

More decisive, however, are the positions of four major actors: the US, EU, China, and Russia.

For Washington, IMEC complements the Abraham Accords, linking Gulf states and Israel through shared economic interests. For the EU, recent trade agreements with India strengthen the logic of that corridor, offering diversification away from both the US and China.

India, in turn, sees IMEC as a pathway to compete with China over the long term.

These overlapping interests create a structural incentive to slow, reshape, or obstruct the New Hejaz Railway.

China and Russia weigh opportunity against risk

For Beijing, the railway could compete with the BRI’s Middle Corridor, yet it could also be absorbed into it.

Integration remains possible, particularly if linked with the Development Road Project from Iraq’s Grand Faw Port. In that scenario, the corridor becomes less a rival and more an extension.

The fact that both projects could bypass IMEC strengthens their appeal from China’s perspective.

Russia faces a similar duality. A future normalization with Europe could reopen direct trade, but shifting flows southward may alter volumes. At the same time, expanded links could provide Moscow with indirect access to the Indian Ocean, offsetting some of those losses.

Map of the old Hejaz Railway.

Map of the old Hejaz Railway.

Iran as the missing piece

Any corridor that bypasses Hormuz inevitably raises questions about Iran’s role.

Reducing reliance on the strait risks diminishing Tehran’s strategic leverage. At the same time, excluding Iran entirely would limit the project’s reach and resilience.

The likely outcome lies in integration. Ankara and Riyadh would need to offer Tehran a stake – whether through linked routes, shared infrastructure, or broader coordination.

Including Pakistan may also be part of this equation, reflecting emerging alignment between Ankara, Riyadh, and Islamabad.

The focus falls less on Iran itself than on the IMEC corridor, which is backed by the US, EU, and Israel. Undermining that framework would sit comfortably with Tehran’s interests, so long as it is not pushed to the margins in the process.

Why the Development Road matters

The New Hejaz Railway does not stand alone. Its viability depends on integration with Iraq’s Development Road Project.

Running from Grand Faw Port through Iraq into Turkiye, the project is designed as a 1,200-kilometer logistics corridor combining high-speed rail, highways, and energy infrastructure. Often described as a “dry canal,” it offers a land-based alternative to maritime routes.

Grand Faw Port, already partially operational, has been built to accommodate the largest cargo vessels. Its depth exceeds that of the Suez Canal, positioning it as a major entry point for Asian goods.

Transit times point to the scale of the shift. A shipment from Shanghai to Rotterdam via Suez takes around a month. Through Faw and the Development Road, projections suggest that journey duration could be reduced to roughly two weeks.

Rather than competing with China’s BRI, the corridor could reinforce it from the south, providing redundancy and flexibility.

If combined with the New Hejaz Railway and the Middle Corridor, the result would be a layered network capable of absorbing shocks across multiple chokepoints.

COMPARISON OF TWO COMPETING CORRIDORS

Feature / Criterion

Development Road & New Hejaz Railway

IMEC Corridor

Route structureContinuous land and rail corridor from Basra to Europe via TurkiyeIndia–UAE (sea) → Saudi Arabia–Jordan–Israel (rail) → Greece (sea)
Logistical efficiencyCargo is transferred only once (in Basra), reducing costs and delaysRequires multiple transfers between ships and trains, increasing costs
Geopolitical riskSupported by political alignment between Turkiye and Iraq and Gulf financingDisrupted by the Gaza war and regional instability
Political sustainabilityBased on shared regional economic development goalsFaces public opposition in Arab states due to cooperation with Israel

OPERATIONAL AND COST PERFORMANCE MATRIX

Corridor

Completion / Readiness

Estimated Transit Time (Asia–Europe)

Cost / Freight Advantage

Key Geopolitical Risks

Middle Corridor85%+ operational; Marmaray and Baku–Tbilisi–Kars active12–15 daysModerate; multiple customs crossings increase costsCaspian Sea capacity limits, bureaucracy
Development RoadPartially under construction; Grand Faw Port phase one completed15–18 daysHigh; cheaper and faster than SuezSecurity risks and financing challenges in Iraq
IMECIn the design/political phase; slowed by Gaza war16–20 daysHigh; advantage in large-scale maritime transportMilitary and political instability in West Asia
New Hejaz RailwayIn the concept/planning stage; fragmented outside Gulf segmentsLonger, regionally focused transitLow; primarily focused on regional tradeInternal Syrian instability, border closures