Washington's Iran hawks — including some Democrats and former Biden administration officials — are denouncing the Trump administration for agreeing to upfront sanctions relief and other confidence-building measures in its preliminary deal, or memorandum of understanding (MoU), with Tehran.
But their criticism leaves one obvious question unanswered: what is their alternative other than another round of war?
Trump did not arrive at these concessions because he suddenly discovered the virtues of diplomacy. He tried war first.
The campaign was extraordinary: roughly 13,000 sorties in less than 40 days, making it one of the heaviest air assaults in modern history. Its targets extended well beyond military facilities to include steel factories, pharmaceutical companies, universities, schools, water infrastructure, police stations, and other sites intended to cripple the Iranian state and force capitulation.
It didn't work.
Iran did not collapse. It fought back. It inflicted significant costs on U.S. bases and regional partners, shut the Strait of Hormuz, and emerged with much of the military infrastructure underpinning its asymmetric military capabilities still intact. Its missile and drone forces survived in substantial numbers, its underground military infrastructure largely endured, and, according to multiple reports, it is already rebuilding faster than expected.
The significance of this extends well beyond the battlefield.
For decades, Washington's greatest source of leverage over Tehran was the ever-present threat of the “military option.” That card has now been played. Yet even this unprecedented military campaign has failed to compel Iranian capitulation or fundamentally alter Tehran's strategic calculus.
It is precisely because the military option failed to force political change in Iran — and because the closure of the Strait of Hormuz imposed mounting costs on Washington and the global economy — that the Trump administration was left with little choice but to return to serious diplomacy. And serious diplomacy was always going to require upfront concessions from the United States.
Why? Because it was Washington, not Tehran, that repeatedly destroyed the foundation of trust between the two nations.
The United States withdrew from the 2015 nuclear deal, the Joint Comprehensive Plan of Action (JCPOA), despite Iran's compliance. It reimposed sweeping sanctions. In the past year, It has twice launched surprise military attacks on Iran. Moreover, despite the criticism now coming from some Democrats, even the Biden administration recognized this reality. In 2023, after failing to revive the JCPOA, the Biden administration negotiated a “de-escalation” understanding that required facilitating access to billions of dollars of Iranian assets frozen in South Korea. Those funds were transferred to Qatar as part of a confidence-building process intended to create space for broader diplomacy.
But after the October 7, 2023, attack by Hamas and Islamic Jihad on southern Israel, Washington blocked Iran's access once again.
The lesson in Tehran could not have been clearer: American promises are reversible, American commitments are contingent, and sanctions relief promised today can be withdrawn tomorrow. In that context, the burden inevitably falls on Washington to rebuild confidence through concrete, verifiable steps rather than assurances alone.
None of this requires accepting Tehran's worldview. But it does require recognizing that its negotiating position follows a coherent strategic logic shaped by repeated American reversals and years of escalating confrontation.
From Tehran's perspective, its two greatest sources of leverage today are the status of its nuclear program — including its stockpile of highly enriched uranium — and its control of shipping through the Strait of Hormuz.
Giving those up in exchange for promises of future sanctions relief would mean surrendering its strongest bargaining chips while relieving pressure on Washington.
Shipping would normalize. Energy markets would stabilize. U.S. petroleum reserves and military inventories would recover. The political pressures created by the conflict would ease ahead of the U.S. midterm elections. And if Washington once again chose war over serious diplomacy, Iran would have forfeited much of the leverage that could have deterred it.
That is the nightmare scenario Iranian officials are trying to avoid.
This is why Tehran insists on strict sequencing, verifiable implementation, and tangible economic benefits before negotiating away the leverage it still possesses. Far from being an obstacle to serious diplomacy, these confidence-building measures are what make diplomacy possible after a decade of broken agreements, “maximum pressure,” and ultimately war.
Indeed, if a comprehensive nuclear agreement is to emerge from these talks, it will almost certainly require even more upfront U.S. implementation, not less.
This brings the debate back to Washington’s critics. If they oppose the confidence-building measures necessary to make diplomacy possible, they need to explain what they propose instead. Iran is not going to surrender its remaining leverage for American promises alone. Demanding that it do so is not a serious negotiating strategy; it is a way of ensuring deadlock.
And deadlock will not preserve the status quo. It would mean drifting back into the aimless, maximalist limbo of “maximum pressure,” only now under far more dangerous conditions. Iran has demonstrated its ability to impose costs through the Strait of Hormuz, regional actors have little appetite for another confrontation, and Washington’s coercive playbook has already failed to produce either capitulation or a durable settlement.
Critics are free to argue that this path is preferable to the compromises required for diplomacy. But they should make that case honestly. After maximum pressure and war have both failed, opposing the steps needed to make negotiations succeed is, in practice, an argument for returning to the very strategy that has produced years of instability, mounting costs, repeated crises, and a steady erosion of the U.S. position in the region.