The Day-After Dilemma

Since the announcement of a ceasefire between the United States and Iran, negotiations over the text of a potential agreement have remained stalled. Every time signs of a breakthrough appear on the horizon, new obstacles emerge, delaying the signing of the long-awaited deal.

In reality, the ongoing diplomatic struggle between Tehran and Washington reflects far more than disagreements over Iran’s nuclear program, the Strait of Hormuz, or the release of frozen Iranian assets. At its core lies a deeper dispute over what Iran should look like on the day after the conflict ends. The United States appears determined to ensure that post-war Iran emerges economically weakened, politically constrained, and strategically diminished.

Washington’s insistence on securing Iran’s stockpile of highly enriched uranium is not merely a technical or non-proliferation issue. It is also an attempt to dismantle one of the most powerful symbols of the Islamic Republic’s political identity. For decades, the Iranian leadership has portrayed itself as a regime that resisted American pressure in the name of national independence and the pursuit of indigenous nuclear capabilities. After enduring sanctions, isolation, and military attacks that damaged significant portions of its strategic infrastructure, surrendering its enriched uranium to its principal adversary would carry profound symbolic consequences.

For Tehran, ending the conflict without a nuclear project would mean losing an important component of the political legitimacy upon which the regime has built much of its domestic and external narrative. Its discourse has long been centered on resistance to the “Great Satan” and the development of independent strategic capabilities. If dismantling the nuclear program becomes a condition for ending the war, the symbolic cost could be as significant as the strategic one. This helps explain why Iranian officials remain particularly resistant to transferring enriched uranium to Washington.

The conflict has therefore evolved into a struggle over the shape of the post-war order—a struggle fundamentally different from wars that ended with unconditional surrender, such as the Second World War. The United States has not deployed ground forces to invade Iran as it did in Afghanistan and Iraq, where it overthrew existing governments and attempted to engineer political systems for the post-conflict era.

The results of those experiments remain instructive. The political structures established in both countries proved fragile. In Iraq, the post-war order underwent profound transformation, while in Afghanistan the American-backed system ultimately collapsed, paving the way for the return of the Taliban. These experiences highlighted the limits of Washington’s ability to design and control the political landscape of the “day after.”

Because a US-Iran confrontation is unlikely to resemble a third world war, and because Iran is unlikely to suffer a defeat comparable to that of Saddam Hussein’s Iraq or Taliban-ruled Afghanistan, the battle over the symbolism and realities of the post-war period remains central to the negotiating deadlock. Iran insists that the future will be shaped by Iranian hands, while the United States seeks to influence—and, where possible, define—at least part of that future.

The settlements that eventually emerge from this conflict are unlikely to have much to do with international law. The war itself has unfolded largely outside the framework of international legitimacy. Consequently, the post-war order may move in one of two directions.

The first possibility is the consolidation of a world governed increasingly by the logic of power—where might determines right and the strongest actors impose their will, a dynamic many critics associate with President Donald Trump’s approach to international affairs.

The second possibility would involve a fundamental reassessment of the international system itself. Such a path would require substantial reform of the United Nations and a renewed effort by defenders of international law to confront what they see as systematic violations of legal norms by major powers, including the United States and Israel. Under such a framework, accountability would apply universally. Iran—or any other state—would face consequences for using force to interfere in the affairs of others, but so too would the world’s most powerful nations. The law would be applied equally, without exceptions or immunity.

Ultimately, the real dispute between Washington and Tehran is not only about how the war ends. It is about who gets to define what comes next.

Originally published in Al Masry Al Youm.