U.S.-Iran Negotiations

Iran's missile programme and drone arsenal constitute one of the Middle East's principal security determinants. Before the outbreak of military hostilities in February 2026, Iran possessed the region's largest stockpile of ballistic missiles. Estimates varied, placing its inventory at between 2,500 and 6,000 long-range missiles capable of striking deep inside Israel at speeds approaching 17,000 kilometres per hour. This coincided with Tehran consolidating its position as a leading developer of drones, particularly the various Shahed models, the Karrar series, and the latest Kaman variant unveiled in January 2026.   The strategic significance of these capabilities became evident during the war, when they became a top priority for U.S. and Israeli strikes. Production facilities, storage sites, and launch platforms were targeted in an effort to degrade Iran's deterrent capabilities and neutralise the threat they posed to Israel. This military escalation was consistent with the pre-war U.S. position, which had signalled its intention to prevent Tehran from acquiring ballistic missiles and stressed the need to incorporate this issue into the nuclear negotiations. In practice, this was reflected in the simultaneous targeting of the infrastructure underpinning both the missile and nuclear programmes.   However, the launch of the negotiation process introduced a new strategic dimension to the issue through the Islamabad Memorandum. Contrary to expectations that Iran's military capabilities would be incorporated into the initial agreement, both the missile and drone programmes were excluded from the preliminary understanding.   The Trump administration subsequently announced a departure from its previous position, stating that it was not seeking to prevent Tehran from rebuilding its missile capabilities, citing Iran's sovereign right to self-defence. This shift reflects a strategic trade-off based on temporarily overlooking the missile programme in exchange for containing the nuclear programme and restricting the funding of armed groups across the region.   This exclusion is not merely a procedural feature of the negotiations. Rather, it raises fundamental questions about the trajectory of the sixty-day transitional period and the strategy each party is likely to pursue thereafter. This situation requires an assessment that goes beyond measuring battlefield losses to understand how these capabilities have evolved from mere weapons systems into a fundamental pillar of the regional balance of power, imposing themselves on regional strategic calculations. This issue was written on July 2, 2026

The Strait of Hormuz is no longer merely a disputed maritime passage, nor simply a recurring flashpoint between Iran and the United States. It has instead evolved into a central arena for testing the meaning of sovereignty in the region. While Washington continues to regard the strait as an international waterway governed by the principle of freedom of navigation, Iran’s Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps treats it as a sovereign zone under its direct administration, subject to military rules imposed through effective ground control. Accordingly, the core of the crisis no longer centres on the question, "Is the strait open or closed?" Rather, the more consequential question has become: what is the future of the strait in light of the ongoing negotiations?   Recent developments, particularly following the Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps’s threat to close the Strait of Hormuz in response to what it described as violations of the terms of the memorandum of understanding, especially about the Lebanese file just days after the memorandum was signed, reveal that the issue has not been resolved but has instead grown more complex. The memorandum treated the strait as a technical issue that could be managed through arrangements governing passage and transit to prevent friction. The Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps, by contrast, approached it as a symbol of sovereignty, power, and the right to set the rules. This divergence rendered the understanding itself incapable of resolving the underlying dispute, because the disagreement between the two sides lies not in procedural details, but in who holds the authority to determine those procedures in the first place.   Although the United States and Iran agreed to reopen the Strait of Hormuz immediately after signing the preliminary agreement, this does not necessarily mean that maritime traffic will return to pre-war levels. Implementing this provision presents complex challenges related to the mechanism for reactivating the shipping corridor, the arrangements required to resume vessel traffic, and the restrictions that may persist during the sixty days allocated to negotiate the final agreement. These challenges are further compounded by the dispute over which party will assume responsibility for regulating and managing maritime traffic through the strait. Taken together, these obstacles suggest that reopening the strait may prove one of the most complex aspects of the agreement, particularly given the ongoing divergence between the American and Iranian visions for the future control of this strategic waterway.   The crisis surrounding the Strait of Hormuz, therefore, cannot be understood merely as a dispute over borders or the passage of ships; it is fundamentally a crisis of authority: the authority to set the rules, to impose exceptions, and to exercise the final say in determining whether this waterway remains open, closed, or conditionally accessible. For this reason, the question of the strait should no longer be viewed as a secondary file within the broader Iran–United States conflict. Rather, it should be recognised as one of the most consequential issues shaping and redefining the very concept of sovereignty, both within Iran itself and in the evolving structure of relations between regional and international powers.