IMAGE: TOM WILLIAMS/CQ-ROLL CALL, INC./GETTY IMAGES
THE LAST time an American president assembled a naval force this large in the Middle East, it was to invade Iraq. That was nearly 23 years ago. Today two carrier groups, scores of fighter jets and bomber aircraft, refuelling tankers and antimissile batteries sit within striking distance of Iran. The warning from Donald Trump to the ayatollahs is: capitulate or else.
On February 26th American and Iranian negotiators will meet in Geneva. The talks are a final attempt to defuse a crisis that has been building since Mr Trump withdrew from the nuclear deal in 2018. Since then Iran has gone from a country with a monitored, limited enrichment programme to one with stockpiles of near-bomb-grade uranium and a history of kicking inspectors out. The president’s demand is zero enrichment. Iran’s foreign minister, Abbas Araghchi, insists on his country’s “right” to make nuclear fuel. Between those positions, a war may hang.
Yet a curious proposal has emerged in recent days, one that could give both sides something to claim as victory. Rafael Grossi, the head of the UN’s nuclear watchdog, has floated the idea of permitting Iran to produce tiny amounts of enriched fuel—not for bombs but for medical isotopes. The Tehran Research Reactor, a creaking facility first supplied by America to the shah under “Atoms for Peace”, already does this. Enlarging that programme would let Iran save face by continuing to enrich. Mr Trump could declare that he has shuttered every facility that could produce a weapon.
Whether either side bites is another matter. Iran has spent billions building a vast industrial programme; scaling it back to a medical-research effort would be a humbling retreat. Mr Trump for his part has made maximalist noises about “zero enrichment”. His envoy, Steve Witkoff, repeats the line. But the president has also told advisers that if diplomacy fails—or if an initial targeted strike does not concentrate Iranian minds—he is prepared to order a much larger assault later in the year. The goal would be to help topple the supreme leader, Ayatollah Ali Khamenei.
That is a stretch. Military planners point out that you cannot topple a regime of 90m people with bombs alone, however precise. Recently Vice President JD Vance pressed the chairman of the Joint Chiefs and the CIA director on the risks and complexity of any strike. The military has raised concerns about what a protracted conflict would do to stretched naval assets and antimissile defences. Plans for commando raids on deeply buried nuclear facilities have been shelved as too dangerous.
European officials who met their Iranian counterparts in Munich last weekend came away doubtful that military pressure would force a surrender. The nuclear programme has become a symbol of resistance, they argue, not just a strategic asset. And American bombs have a habit of unifying even deeply unpopular regimes against an external foe. The protesters whom Iranian security forces killed by the thousands last month would not necessarily cheer an American attack.
For now all eyes are on Geneva. Mr Araghchi says there is still “a good chance” for diplomacy. But the armada is not steaming towards Switzerland. If the talks fail Mr Trump will have to decide whether to make good on his threat—and whether bombing Iran would weaken the regime or merely hand it a new reason to fight. The medical-isotope proposal offers a sliver of space. In a crisis defined by red lines and ultimatums, a face-saving fudge may be the most radical option of all. ■
