M A Hossain,
The talks between the United States and Iran in Muscat have been greeted with the usual ritual of overinterpretation. Optimists see the faint outline of renewed diplomacy. Pessimists detect another episode of strategic theater. Both camps miss the point. These discussions are neither a revival of détente nor a prelude to a grand bargain. They are something narrower, colder, and in some ways more unsettling: a mechanism for managing escalation in a region where deterrence is fraying and clocks are ticking.
The history provides an important reminder. The United States and the Soviet Union communicated regularly throughout the Cold War, even during extremely tense moments. The solution to the Cuban Missile Crisis wasn't due to either party trusting the other, but because they spoke with each other regularly. The Muscat channel is in that tradition; it is not a bridge to restorations of friendships, but a means by which disasters are prevented.
The conditions for a comprehensive U.S.-Iran agreement simply do not exist. The nuclear deal of 2015 was possible because interests briefly aligned: Iran sought sanctions relief, the U.S. sought nonproliferation, and regional spoilers were momentarily sidelined. That alignment is gone. Tehran’s threat perception has deepened, Washington’s domestic politics have hardened, and the Middle East itself is more volatile than it was a decade ago. Against that backdrop, expecting Muscat to deliver a breakthrough misunderstands both sides’ incentives.
What does exist is a shared recognition of cost. Neither Washington nor Tehran believes that immediate confrontation would be clean, contained, or strategically decisive. Deterrence still operates, but it operates badly. Each side doubts the other’s restraint. Each assumes malign intent. That is precisely when miscalculation becomes most likely.
Oman’s role is therefore not incidental. Muscat has long specialized in low-visibility diplomacy, from secret U.S.-Iran contacts before the 2015 deal to regional mediation that rarely makes headlines. Its value lies in discretion. The talks allow messages to be passed without political ownership, red lines to be tested without public commitments, and pauses to be engineered without admitting weakness. In a region addicted to symbolism, that matters.
Iran’s participation should not be mistaken for moderation. From Tehran’s perspective, U.S. demands strike at the heart of its deterrence architecture. The nuclear program functions as strategic insurance, a hedge against regime-threatening pressure. Missile capabilities compensate for conventional inferiority. Regional networks provide depth defense, extending Iran’s reach beyond its borders. To compromise meaningfully on any of these would be, in Iranian eyes, to invite vulnerability.
Engagement, then, is tactical. It buys time. It dilutes pressure. It shifts the burden of escalation onto Washington. This is not new. During the Iran-Iraq War, Tehran accepted ceasefires and negotiations when expedient, only to resume pressure when conditions improved. Survival, not reconciliation, has always been the regime’s organizing principle.
For the United States, the logic is parallel but inverted. The talks preserve decision space. They demonstrate restraint to allies, Congress, and international partners. They establish that diplomacy was tried, which matters enormously if escalation later becomes unavoidable. In this sense, diplomacy functions less as a solution than as a prerequisite. Before force can be justified, process must be exhausted.
Israel complicates this equation. It acts as a strategic accelerator, not because it seeks a full-scale regional war, but because it views time differently. For Jerusalem, Iran’s nuclear progress is not an abstract future risk; it is a narrowing window. Israeli leaders, across political divides, have consistently framed the issue as approaching a point of no return. That framing exerts pressure on Washington, shortening diplomatic timelines and raising the cost of delay.
This tension—between escalation control and escalation momentum—defines the current moment. The United States wants to slow the clock. Israel wants to speed it up. Iran wants to obscure it. The result is a brittle equilibrium.
Three scenarios now shape the horizon. The first is managed de-escalation, and it is the most likely. Talks continue without agreement. Informal understandings limit escalation. Proxy activity remains calibrated rather than unleashed. Shipping lanes are harassed but not closed. Red lines are probed but not crossed. Stability persists, but it is stability without resolution, the kind that depends on constant vigilance and quiet coordination.
The second scenario is a limited military strike. A perceived diplomatic failure, an intelligence revelation, or an Israeli action could trigger a targeted operation—cyber, air, or covert. Iran would respond indirectly, activating proxies across multiple theaters while avoiding actions that force a direct U.S. response. Deterrence would be reset, but at a higher level of risk. History suggests such episodes rarely end where planners expect them to.
The third scenario is unintended escalation, and it is the most dangerous precisely because no one intends it. A misread signal. A proxy commander acting autonomously. A strike that goes further than anticipated. The First World War did not begin because Europe wanted annihilation; it began because systems failed under pressure. The Middle East today is saturated with those same pressures: compressed timelines, fragmented authority, and deep mistrust.
The greatest risk, then, lies not in deliberate war but in misjudgment. Leaders may believe they are signaling resolve when they are, in fact, signaling provocation. They may assume control over actors who operate on local logics and incentives. They may underestimate how quickly events can outrun intentions.
There are early warning indicators worth watching. The suspension or downgrading of the Muscat channel would suggest that escalation management is breaking down. Sudden shifts in U.S. or Israeli military readiness, especially if unexplained, would signal preparation for contingencies. Coordinated intelligence leaks about nuclear timelines often precede political decisions. Unattributed proxy escalations across multiple fronts may indicate either testing behavior or loss of central control.
None of this should be read as fatalism. Escalation can still be managed. Time can still be bought. But time is not neutral. It can be used to stabilize, or it can be used to prepare for conflict. The Muscat talks are about creating space. What fills that space remains an open question.
The uncomfortable truth is that the Middle East’s next shock is unlikely to announce itself with a declaration of war. It will emerge from ambiguity, from actions taken to avoid conflict that nonetheless make it more likely. Diplomacy, in this context, is not a path to peace. It is a holding pattern.
And holding patterns end. The Muscat talks are not about reconciliation. They are not about trust. They are about time. And in today’s Middle East, time is the most valuable—and the most fragile—strategic asset of all.
M A Hossain, political and defense analyst based in Bangladesh. He can be reached at: writetomahossain@gmail.com
This article published at :
1. The Jakarta Post, Indonesia: 11 Feb, 26
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