In recent weeks, the United States’ behavioral pattern toward Iran has reflected less a linear move toward a final decision and more a calculated, attritional strategy of “managing suspension”—a condition in which neither war nor peace is chosen, and the region is intentionally kept in a state of ambiguous limbo. The concurrent deployment of military equipment to the region, Trump’s deliberately ambiguous remarks about talks, and the guided media confrontation inside the United States are all pieces of the same puzzle. The goal of this puzzle is to expand Washington’s room for maneuver without assuming responsibility for a final choice. Trump’s recent interview, in which he spoke about plans to talk with Tehran while simultaneously emphasizing the movement of “large and very powerful ships,” is the essence of this strategy. Here, the threat is not a prelude to war but a tool to impose the narrative of negotiations from a position of strength. Trump wants any potential diplomatic path to be perceived not as the result of a shift in the balance of power, but as the outcome of a prior American show of force. More precisely, the warships serve less of an operational function than a psychological and narrative one.

This pattern cannot be understood without reference to the failed experience of the “maximum pressure” campaign during Trump’s first term. At that time, U.S. policy was built on the accumulation of demands and unlimited conditionality—a model that turned negotiation into a tool of coercion rather than dispute resolution. The architecture of that approach effectively targeted every component of Iran’s power and blocked the path to dialogue from the outset. Now, however, there are clear signs of a tactical retreat from that model. In Trump’s new presidential term, Washington appears to have stepped back from the maximalist package and narrowed its focus to three compressed but highly contentious axes: the nuclear issue, missile capabilities, and Iran’s regional role. This reduction does not signal a moderation of ultimate objectives, but rather an attempt to convert unworkable pressure into negotiable pressure. The gradual removal of issues such as regime change or the human rights file from overt public messaging reflects not a change in belief, but a prioritization aimed at escaping deadlock.

At the same time, America’s real limitations in entering a broad military confrontation are becoming increasingly evident. Recent remarks by Marco Rubio during a congressional hearing, emphasizing the uncertain political and security consequences of military action against Iran and the inability to control its aftermath, exposed the gap between bluff and reality. These comments amounted to an indirect acknowledgment that the military option—contrary to its simplified media portrayal—is neither low-cost nor manageable. When a key U.S. foreign policy figure speaks of uncertainty about “the day after a conflict,” it signals that the decision-making structure has yet to reach a conclusion.

In this environment, the role of the media as a complementary arm of the suspension strategy becomes more pronounced. The media polarization in the United States is not accidental. Networks such as CNN, by highlighting the costs of war, the risk of regional instability, and uncontrollable consequences, operate along an anti-war spectrum. In contrast, Fox News, by focusing on military power, the necessity of deterrence, and threat-centered narratives, operates along a more hawkish spectrum. This duality is not a genuine disagreement, but a tool to keep both options alive simultaneously in public opinion. The result is the deliberate preservation of a state of suspension that allows the U.S. government to adjust its course according to circumstances without paying the cost of a strategic shift.

On the other side, Iran has sought to avoid falling into the trap of this managed suspension and to seize the conceptual initiative. The Iranian foreign minister’s emphasis on the country’s “legal rights” is a deliberate effort to move the dispute from the terrain of military threat to that of law and obligations. This reframing shifts psychological pressure from Tehran to Washington: if the United States claims to seek talks, it must demonstrate how prepared it is to accept Iran’s established rights.

At the same time, some unofficial reports indicate that during the Iranian foreign minister’s visit to Turkey on Friday, in addition to meeting his counterpart, he will also hold talks with senior Turkish officials. This diplomatic activity may signal the activation of complementary channels and the design of a new playing field to regain the initiative at this sensitive moment—an effort to break the monopoly of the American narrative and widen political maneuverability in the region.

Overall, the current scene should be understood as one of “calculated decision-avoidance.” By recognizing the costs of war and its unpredictable consequences, the United States keeps the military option as a looming threat while refraining from executing it. The media feeds this suspension, and politicians reinforce it through ambiguity. In such conditions, the core struggle is not over whether a war will begin, but over imposing the framework through which reality itself is interpreted—a framework that will ultimately determine who is seen as responsible for crossing the line from diplomacy into the next, far more costly phase.