Ceasefires are widely framed as moments of respite: temporary halts to violence that create space for diplomatic dialogue. But in some cases, these pauses reveal a far more consequential truth: which side has actually emerged with the upper hand from a conflict. The newly negotiated ceasefire between the United States, Israel, and Iran appears to be one of these pivotal moments.
On the surface, every party involved is publicly claiming victory. Former U.S. President Donald Trump has hailed the agreement as a “total and complete victory,” positioning it as proof that Washington achieved all its core strategic objectives. For its part, Iran’s leadership has characterized the ceasefire as a major strategic win, with the country’s Supreme National Security Council formally approving the deal on the condition that all offensive operations end.
Beneath these competing public narratives, however, lies a deeper reality: the terms and framework of the ceasefire indicate that Iran has left the conflict not weakened, but significantly strengthened. Even after the assassination of much of the country’s senior leadership during the hostilities, the regime’s ability to quickly appoint replacements and maintain internal institutional cohesion demonstrates resilience, not imminent collapse.
Crucially, this ceasefire was not imposed on Iran after a decisive military defeat. It was negotiated, and its core parameters were shaped by Iran’s own conditions, with tangible gains for Tehran. Tehran’s ten-point proposal served as the opening framework for talks, rather than a pre-drafted agreement forced on Iran from outside. Iran’s demands extend far beyond ending active hostilities. They include targeted sanctions relief, access to billions of dollars in frozen overseas assets, international support for post-conflict reconstruction, and continued Iranian influence over the Strait of Hormuz. The proposal also calls for a full withdrawal of U.S. military presence from the Middle East and an end to Israeli offensive operations in Lebanon.
The Strait of Hormuz, the vital chokepoint through which roughly one-fifth of the world’s global oil supplies transit, has been reopened under Iranian oversight — a clear signal of where strategic leverage now resides in the region. Control over the strait is not just a strategic military advantage; it is a major economic asset. Reports indicate Iran has proposed continuing to collect transit fees that it implemented during the conflict, creating a steady new revenue stream at exactly the moment the country requires funding for post-war reconstruction.
In practice, a conflict that saw sustained bombing targeting Iranian infrastructure may now leave Tehran with new financial tools to rebuild and potentially expand its regional influence. This paradoxical outcome is not unprecedented: military offensives are designed to erode an adversary’s operational capabilities, but when they fail to deliver a decisive political victory, they often open new pathways for the targeted state to gain power. Iran entered this conflict already hardened by decades of pressure. Years of sweeping international sanctions forced the regime to build systemic resilience by diversifying economic and political networks, strengthening core state institutions, and developing asymmetric military and strategic strategies.
Far from breaking this system, the war has accelerated its evolution. Instead of collapsing, Iran has demonstrated its ability to disrupt global energy markets, absorb sustained large-scale military strikes, and force major powers to negotiate on terms that include significant economic concessions.
This is where the disconnect in U.S. public messaging becomes most apparent. While Trump has framed the ceasefire as a total victory, a key detail tells a different story: though the temporary reopening of the Strait of Hormuz (Trump’s central public demand in recent weeks) is part of the deal, ongoing negotiations will be built around Iran’s ten-point framework, not the original U.S. 15-point plan that centered on dismantling Iran’s nuclear and missile programs. This shift is a clear indicator that Washington was seeking a quick exit from escalating conflict.
For Iran, meanwhile, the leadership has held a consistent line: it will reject temporary arrangements unless they deliver permanent structural changes, including sanctions relief and formal security guarantees. For Washington, the ceasefire halts dangerous escalation and calms volatile global energy markets. For Tehran, it locks in the strategic leverage gained from its control of the Strait of Hormuz. This asymmetric outcome means the ceasefire is not a neutral pause in fighting; it is a turning point that could cement a major shift in regional power dynamics.
The most impactful dimension of this shift is economic. The war sent shockwaves through global commodity markets, with oil prices swinging sharply in response to supply disruptions. But the ceasefire introduces a new, Iran-friendly dynamic: if sanctions are eased as negotiated, Iran will regain access to global energy markets at a time of sustained global demand. Combined with potential new transit revenues from the Strait of Hormuz and international reconstruction funding, this creates the conditions for a meaningful Iranian economic rebound. In the end, the war risks delivering the exact opposite of its intended outcome: instead of weakening Iran economically, it may have significantly strengthened the country’s position.
This outcome raises a larger, foundational question: what does this ceasefire reveal about the nature of global power in the 21st century? For decades, U.S. influence in the Middle East has been built on unchallenged military dominance and coercive economic pressure. This conflict demonstrates that both pillars of U.S. power are now under significant strain.
Militarily, the U.S. and Israel have demonstrated overwhelming conventional military capability, yet failed to achieve a decisive outcome that would eliminate Iran’s core power. Iran has retained all its core strategic capacities, maintained internal cohesion, and leveraged its geographic and economic position to shape the terms of de-escalation.
At the same time, the international legitimacy of the U.S. and Israel has eroded considerably. The contested justifications for the war, the high civilian death toll, and the lack of broad international support have weakened both countries’ global standing, even among their traditional closest allies. U.S. soft power, a longstanding cornerstone of its global leadership, has been further diminished. Trump’s increasingly inflammatory and abusive social media posts have alienated even Washington’s closest partners, the majority of whom remained publicly silent in the face of U.S. threats to escalate the conflict.
Economically, Iran’s proven ability to influence, and potentially monetize, global energy flows gives it a form of structural power that military force alone can never neutralize. The result is this striking paradox: a war launched to contain Iranian power has instead reinforced and expanded it.
It remains early days for this ceasefire. Agreements can collapse, negotiations can stall, and open conflict can reignite at any time. But if the deal holds, even temporarily, it marks a critical turning point in global geopolitics. This is not because it ends the long-running conflict between Iran and the U.S.-Israeli bloc; it is because it reveals a new reality of how modern wars are won and lost. Victory today is no longer defined solely by battlefield dominance. It is determined by outcomes that are economically sustainable, politically legitimate, and strategically durable.
Measured by these new metrics, Iran is clearly well positioned to emerge as the ultimate winner of this conflict. The U.S. and Israel may have demonstrated conventional military superiority, but Iran has demonstrated a far more consequential capacity: the ability to endure external pressure, adapt to hostile conditions, and convert that pressure into tangible strategic leverage.
That is why this ceasefire matters far beyond the end of one phase of conflict. It marks the moment when a war designed to weaken Iran instead left it stronger, while simultaneously exposing the fundamental limits of the hard power used by the alliance that sought to contain it. This analysis comes from Bamo Nouri, an honorary research fellow in the Department of International Politics at City St George’s, University of London, and Inderjeet Parmar, a professor of international politics at the same institution.
