Iranian and US negotiators are due to meet in Islamabad this weekend to try to cement a two-week ceasefire agreed after nearly six weeks of fighting. The talks are high-stakes and fragile: exchanges of fire between Israel and Hezbollah continue, and Tehran has not fully reopened the Strait of Hormuz, a vital route for oil and gas shipments.
Publicly, Iran has approached the negotiations cautiously, but inside the country the picture is more complex. Wartime conditions have created an appearance of unity, yet signs of internal tension are growing. Some hard-line factions appear to believe Iran can press its advantage and should continue confrontation rather than compromise. Those favoring a truce risk being portrayed domestically as appeasers.
A statement from Iran’s Supreme National Security Council after the ceasefire announcement urged all sides to avoid sowing division, signaling leadership concern about fractures within the system. Historically, the supreme leader’s office could resolve such disputes, but the situation is murkier now. Mojtaba Khamenei, who succeeded his father as supreme leader after the latter was killed in an airstrike on the first day of the war, has remained out of public view, heightening uncertainty about who can act as an effective arbiter. Observers warn that without a clear unifying authority, tactical disagreements could escalate into broader instability.
The most obvious risk to the ceasefire comes from hard-line elements who see continued conflict as politically useful. A political activist formerly aligned with reformists told DW the government fears hard-liners could adopt a rigid stance and further weaken a state already low on organizational capacity. Authorities have reportedly distributed weapons among loyalist forces amid fears of public unrest, and mobilizations on the streets have included very young participants, making compromise politically harder to justify at home.
Iran’s past also offers a warning. After the Iran–Iraq war in the 1980s, supporters of ending the conflict were stigmatized for years as those who had prevented victory, even though the then supreme leader accepted a ceasefire, calling it a “poisoned chalice.” That historical reflex—viewing compromise as weakness—remains a potent obstacle.
At the same time, there are powerful interests in the system that favor keeping the ceasefire. Activist Reza Alijani said Pakistan’s public role and China’s behind-the-scenes diplomacy helped nudge Tehran toward the deal, but he argues the decisive pressure came from Iran’s own limitations. Iran still has military capacity, Alijani said, but lacks the economic resources to sustain a long war. That economic constraint, he believes, has widened a divide between the military wing and the political-executive apparatus, complicating decision-making.
Voices inside the establishment have also sought to link Israel’s ongoing attacks in Lebanon to any Tehran–Washington understanding, a dynamic that could be intended to weaken the chances of a deal. Whether deliberate or not, such statements risk undermining negotiations.
For a ceasefire to become a durable peace, experts say the Islamabad talks must move beyond short-term crisis management. Babak Dorbeiki, formerly deputy for social and cultural affairs at Iran’s Strategic Research Center, argues that lasting peace requires Tehran to abandon ideological confrontation, participate in a regional security framework, and redefine internal interests so regime survival no longer depends on external tension. He cautions, however, that some elements of the leadership view external confrontation as a way to consolidate domestic power.
In short, a fragile truce may hold only if an Iran–US agreement is accompanied by buy-in from all influential factions within the Islamic Republic and a shift in strategic priorities from confrontation to stability.
Edited by: Srinivas Mazumdaru