USA and Iran: some comments about a very complex negotiation

 

Power Without Credibility: The Improvisations of the US–Iran Crisis

Victor Ângelo

International Security Advisor. Former UN Under-Secretary-General Published on: 26 Jun 2026

Despite their political complexity, contradictions, and turbulence, the ongoing negotiations between the United States and Iran can be assessed positively. Following months of direct combat, a memorandum of understanding has been signed and a framework for a ceasefire established, with Pakistan and Qatar now acting as mediators. However, the crisis remains unresolved, and an objective analysis of its various dimensions reveals important lessons for international relations.

When the US initiated attacks against Iran in close coordination with Israel, they expected a swift resolution and the total surrender of their adversary. The outcome was quite different. Iran retaliated, disrupted traffic in the Strait of Hormuz, and demonstrated that it would not be defeated without imposing significant costs upon its attackers. The elimination of the Supreme Leader, Ayatollah Ali Khamenei, at the onset of the conflict did not precipitate the collapse of the Iranian regime that Washington had anticipated. The tactic of 'decapitating' the leadership proved fallible, contradicting certain military doctrines. Iran appointed a new leadership and maintained its capacity for resistance.

This demonstrated a failure on the American side to accurately evaluate the context, resulting in a severe impact on the political credibility of the White House—something far more difficult to rebuild than new arsenals. Credibility is not measured by the scale of military offensives. It stems from political coherence, adherence to commitments, and the trust a power inspires—above all, amongst its allies.

The withdrawal of the US from the JCPOA (the 2015 nuclear agreement), the chaotic departure from Afghanistan, and the erosion of pacts in Iraq were not isolated acts. To these, one might add the ambiguities surrounding aid to Ukraine and the future of NATO. All of this forms a pattern—and it is these patterns that other governments study when deciding upon the future of their defence alliances. For the Gulf States, the 2026 conflict confirmed the trend: an alliance with Washington is a matter of convenience and circumstance. These nations are now seeking to diversify their partnerships in order to reduce their strategic exposure. This is the direct consequence of a loss of trust.

The negotiations do not aim to secure a peace treaty. At best, the ongoing discussions will serve to maintain the status quo. For many, this will be perceived as a victory for Iranian strategy. In that event, the fear that kept numerous countries aligned with Washington will be weakened. When governments observe that a superpower presenting itself as the guarantor of their security cannot fully dictate its will to a country such as Iran, they may conclude that the time has come to seek alternatives.

The recent ASEAN summit with Russia in Kazan exemplified this shift. ASEAN member states—including Timor-Leste—signed a comprehensive cooperation plan with Russia extending to 2030, encompassing the realm of regional security. Despite reservations regarding Moscow’s conduct in Ukraine, Southeast Asian nations refused to accept the Western narrative that portrays Russia as a pariah state. The message emanating from ASEAN was unequivocal: they do not intend to subordinate their interests to a Western-led order that they view as increasingly incoherent and self-centred. When the conflict closed the Strait of Hormuz, Asian nations suffered genuine economic losses—and their interests were ignored by Washington.

For China, the lessons are equally apparent. Should Beijing employ its power in the South China Sea or Taiwan in a manner perceived by its neighbours as threatening, it could provoke a reaction akin to that faced by the US—allies becoming increasingly sceptical and reticent. China, much like the US, tends to conflate dominance with leadership. However, dominance imposes submission; leadership generates commitment. And it is commitment that endures.

Russia has realized to its own cost, and by observing the US in the Middle East, that a great power entangled in a protracted conflict suffers reputational damage and loses allies. To counter isolation and preserve influence, it is adopting various initiatives and attempting to forge new alliances—the Kazan summit and operations in the Sahel being prime examples.

There exists, however, an institution created precisely to limit instability and promote cooperation: the United Nations. The UN was born from the recognition that lasting peace cannot depend upon a single power acting of its own accord. A common framework is required—with shared rules, obligations, and consequences. A framework that establishes boundaries and allows the weakest to rely on something more solid than the goodwill and volatile moods of the powerful.

Military actions outside the rules of International Law do not merely damage the reputation of their perpetrators: they undermine the very system intended to ensure peace. Every time a power acts as though its highly subjective reading of the facts overrides universal norms, it weakens the institution upon which everyone relies.

Revitalizing the United Nations is not an idealistic ambition; it is a strategic necessity. It is vital to reiterate this truth. A UN with genuine authority to mediate conflicts and hold great powers accountable is not an obstacle to legitimate interests—it is the only reliable substitute for the continuous cycle of trust erosion that the crisis of 2026 has once again highlighted.

The verdict that emerges for those who observe international relations with a critical and independent mind is this: power exercised without principles, in an improvised manner, is like a disoriented weather vane, incapable of indicating the true course. A peace imposed by force and economic pressure is no peace at all—it is merely an interlude until the next confrontation. Lasting peace rests upon the recognition that all States, however diverse, strong or weak they may be, possess an equal right to security and sovereignty, and that the world must be governed by law, not by the will of the strongest.

Russia and Ukraine: War or Diplomacy?

 

G7 and Ukraine: More War or Investing in Diplomacy?

Victor Ângelo

International Security Advisor. Former UN Under-Secretary-General

Published on: 19 Jun 2026

The 2026 G7 summit in Évian once again placed Ukraine at the centre of the agenda. And it followed, essentially, a line already known since 2022: the reaffirmation of support for Kyiv, the condemnation of the Russian Federation, and promises of more weaponry. But this time, the final declaration sounded more like a ritual than a strategy. It was reduced to vague phrases. Behind the façade of cohesion, sanctions, and military commitments, the central question remained unanswered: how to transform support for Ukraine into a strategy that leads to the end of the brutal Russian aggression?

The leaders present praised Ukrainian resilience and promised to bolster arms production, vital for Ukraine's defence, especially air defence. However, the absence of a serious commitment to diplomacy was glaring. A clear statement was missing: peace is not merely a strategic necessity. Diplomacy is the only way out to prevent the situation from worsening and to revive hope in International Law and multilateral mechanisms.

Continuing the conflict indefinitely benefits no one. It drains resources that should be allocated to other urgent challenges and entails tragic human costs, alongside growing material expenditures that are increasingly difficult to mobilize.

The Toll on Nations

• For Ukraine: It is, above all, a threat to the very survival of the State. Each additional day of aggression means a further shattered economy, newly destroyed civilian infrastructure, and less tax revenue to sustain basic services—not to mention the most intolerable cost of all: the continuous loss of human lives. The longer the war drags on, the more difficult the rebuilding of the country becomes.

• For Russia: The continuation of its mistake exacerbates the erosion of its economy and society. The flight of skilled professionals and capital, technological shortages, and the rest, are all hidden behind a "war economy" whose logic is imperialist in nature. Ultimately, it is about ensuring the regime's survival, not the country's security. Industries and services linked to the war and the militarization of the economy have become the engines of GDP and employment. And Russian human losses are incalculable.

• For Europe: The cost is not abstract. The conflict has exposed our external dependencies regarding energy, cybernetics, security, and defence. And it is causing increasing budgetary pressure. Financing our sovereignty and supporting Ukraine's legitimate defence does not come cheap. Extraordinary funds must be found, competing with other priorities, while instability and inflation fuel a growing political fatigue. It is this fatigue that threatens to test the Western bloc's cohesion in the coming years—especially if public opinion begins to ask, quite rightly, what the plans and the timetable are.

The Risk of Escalation

There is yet another cost that rarely enters this accounting: the risk of an uncontrollable escalation. The longer the war drags on, the greater the likelihood of an isolated incident—a disproportionate response—dragging other actors into the conflict. It is precisely this risk that has been exposed in recent days.

While the Évian summit was taking place, a Russian frigate fired warning shots at a British yacht crossing the English Channel. The motive should not be dramatized—the vessel was sailing at a short distance from the frigate, and the shots can be justified as a warning signal to navigation. What matters is the symbolic significance. The incident with the frigate, which is navigating those waters in a back-and-forth manoeuvre intended to provide military protection to the phantom tankers seeking to bypass sanctions, highlights that the Russian frontline can easily expand to Western Europe.

Beyond the Baltic, the Black Sea, and the Arctic, the English Channel has become one of the most sensitive points of strategic friction between the West and Russia. It is the most congested maritime highway on the planet, where any Russian military manoeuvre inevitably intersects with civilian traffic. It now receives coordinated attention from the British and French navies, as well as NATO's naval deployments—but a miscalculation carries a high level of probability. In recent months, alongside NATO, the British and French navies have escalated their alert levels in the Channel in the face of Moscow's provocations: espionage by the Yantar ship in November, submarines in April, and the interception of vessels from the Russian phantom tanker fleet.

The Crossroads

Doubt remains as to whether the summit recognized that the Russian war in Ukraine has reached a crossroads: either it gives way to a negotiation process or it enters a spiral, a self-sustaining cycle where each side interprets the other's actions as a justification to escalate its own response.

Defending peace cannot mean Ukraine's capitulation, nor accepting a vague armistice that would merely freeze the aggression today until an inevitable new Russian invasion tomorrow. Rather, it demands the political courage to create the conditions for a verifiable ceasefire, with security guarantees, international monitoring mechanisms, and a political process capable of leading to a lasting peace.

This mechanism should function as an antechamber for genuine multilateral mediation. For this to be possible, we must articulate a narrative that has hitherto not existed—the clear guarantee that this is not about deciding Russia's internal destiny, but rather about reaffirming the primacy of International Law as the foundation of relations between States.

I must reiterate that diplomacy remains the only alternative to achieve peace. Therefore, I highlight the memorandum of understanding signed this Wednesday between the United States and Iran. It is a positive example, even bearing in mind that its implementation faces a minefield of obstacles:

• The ambiguous dimension of some points in the memorandum;

• US political instability;

• The interests of the Iranian Revolutionary Guard, which blatantly profits from the parallel economy created by the sanctions and resists any opening;

• The opposition of regional powers such as Israel, a country that views any concession to Iran as an existential threat.

But the memorandum and the negotiations that ought to follow can be seen as an example by the conflicting parties in Ukraine. Namely, they remind us that time is of the essence: without a concrete plan—a UN mandate, a verification mission, a reconstruction fund, and a timetable for negotiations—we risk perpetuating a conflict that no one can endure indefinitely.

Singapore could be the right place for a mediation between Russia and Ukraine

 The Russian war against Ukraine requires mediation beyond the Euro‑Atlantic framework

Victor Ângelo

Volodymyr Zelensky’s long open letter to Vladimir Putin on 4 June was not a conventional diplomatic initiative. It was another move in a hybrid war with no end in sight. By publicly calling for a ceasefire at the precise moment when Russia’s economic elite and figures from the Global South were meeting in St Petersburg, the Ukrainian president’s primary aim was not to persuade the Kremlin — and it was revealing that he published the letter before delivering it to its addressee, a gesture openly criticised by Putin’s inner circle. Zelensky sought to exploit visible tensions within the Russian system and to remind the international community that Kyiv continues to take the initiative while Moscow remains mired in a devastating war of attrition.

As a political gesture, Zelensky scored points. He again showed that Putin is more concerned with protecting his image and person than with the fate of his people. But wars on this scale do not end because an aggressor suddenly rediscovers the virtues of moderation. They end when military pressure, economic hardship and political isolation reduce the benefits of escalation and compel serious negotiation. The question is not whether Zelensky’s letter was timely. The question is how to turn pressure and stalemate into a mediation process that is not merely a delaying tactic.

In theory, that mediatory role belongs to the United Nations, which in practice has little or no capacity to alter the political calculations of a permanent member of the Security Council.

The alternatives display equally evident limits. Geneva, one of the locations proposed by Zelensky, has its neutrality challenged by Moscow because of Switzerland’s alignment with EU positions. Gulf states are preoccupied with the crises now besetting the Middle East. Turkey — whose mediation capacities were demonstrated in the Istanbul process of March 2022, when negotiations came closest to a result before collapsing — is a NATO member, a geopolitical space the conflict has already outgrown. India has strategic weight but lacks impartiality. New Delhi has consistently shown greater interest in preserving strategic ambiguity than in applying real pressure on Moscow, not least because it has significantly increased imports of Russian oil and purchases of military equipment and components for the development of its civil nuclear energy sector.

A credible host must satisfy four criteria simultaneously. First, political acceptability: it must be accepted, above all, by Moscow and Kyiv, and have political credibility in Washington and Beijing.

Second, legal latitude: the decisions of the International Criminal Court (ICC) cannot be ignored. The host country must provide a clear legal basis to receive senior Russian representatives without undermining the accountability framework the ICC defends.

Third, technical competence: extraordinarily complex issues are at stake — sanctions, frozen assets, security guarantees, reconstruction financing, energy corridors. Peace processes do not fail for want of rhetoric; they fail because guarantees are vague and violations go unsanctioned.

Fourth, structural discretion: public negotiations are fruitless. A host that cannot protect the confidentiality of working sessions will render the process impossible before it begins.

In light of these criteria, I look to Singapore and judge that it deserves more attention than it has received — but the argument requires precision, not mere faith. The country possesses a rare set of institutional conditions that make it a plausible — if not obvious — candidate to coordinate an international mediation.

Indeed, in terms of political acceptability, Singapore simultaneously maintains a strategic partnership with the United States and counts China as its largest trading partner, with decades of functional relations that include discreet channels of communication between Beijing and Western actors. This dual interdependence reveals a substantial capacity to act as a credible interlocutor.

Regarding the ICC, Singapore is not a State party to the Rome Statute. It could also suspend its own sanctions on Russia as an incentive to participate, without compromising the broader architecture of Western sanctions. And it could negotiate with Moscow to be removed from the Kremlin’s list of “hostile countries”. A process of this kind would require concessions that may at first seem unimaginable, but perhaps are not. Curiously, Singapore’s Prime Minister, Lawrence Wong, will visit the Russian city of Kazan next week as part of a Russia–ASEAN summit and will meet Vladimir Putin.

Singapore is one of the world’s major financial and international arbitration centres, with institutional capacity to deal with the most complex aspects of any peace process. Its record also shows it can manage confidentiality, logistics and security for high‑risk events — with exemplary diplomatic professionalism.

Just as Paris, Oslo or Doha became venues for diplomatic processes that transcended their geographic scale, the effectiveness of mediation often depends more on the conditions a host can offer than on its military or geopolitical weight. Singapore would remove the process from the fraught Euro‑Atlantic frame and rewrite it within a genuinely multilateral context.

Intellectual honesty requires recognising the limits. No country can force Russia to negotiate. Mediation will only begin when the Kremlin concludes that prolonging the aggression has become politically and economically unsustainable, and a military disaster. That moment may not be near. But it will come, and it is important to have a prepared and competent diplomatic architecture to initiate mediation.

Singapore would still have to accept the role. Washington, Beijing and other capitals should discuss the option and discreetly sound out the country’s political willingness, as well as the receptivity of Moscow and Kyiv. This mediation, when it occurs, must be handled with great circumspection and originality.

(Published in Portuguese in Diário de Notícias on 12/06/2026)

The Space Geopolitics

Superpowers, creative billionaires, and the dispute over outer space

Victor Ângelo 

International Security Advisor. Former UN Under-Secretary-General Published: 5 Jun 2026

Outer space is already a paramount issue in the competition between great powers. Consequently, the deserts of northwestern China, in Xinjiang and Gobi, attract very special attention. Satellite imagery reveals vast military complexes and an extensive network of many dozens, even hundreds, of rocket launch pads, bunkers, and enormous, heavily fortified structures. Built near nuclear silos—which house China’s longest-range intercontinental missiles—this infrastructure aims to guarantee an immediate retaliatory capacity should the country suffer a first strike.

This terrestrial fortress is only half the story. The bunkers excavated in the sand are intimately linked to Chinese surveillance satellites, together forming an integrated ground and space defence system. The assets concentrated in the desert depend directly on their orbital counterparts: the Huoyan-1 early-warning satellites. These "eyes of fire", capable of detecting the infrared signature of enemy missiles immediately after their launch, open a critical three-to-four-minute window, allowing the Chinese chain of command to order the firing of weapons stored in the silos before they can be destroyed.

We are in a different world from the old space race. In the late 1950s and the subsequent decade, the focus was on the national prestige and political image of the US and the USSR. The marathon of space competition has changed. Today, it is a high-speed and high-risk race.

Space is one of the great strategic priorities of the present. Much of what resides in low Earth orbit governs our daily lives: global logistics, financial synchronization, communications, disaster response, and encrypted military operations. The country that masters the technical standards, extracts the first cosmic resources, and controls the orbital infrastructure will obtain an ambivalent power over the global economy and planetary defence, capable of serving human progress as much as military hegemony and a global disaster.

The current space arena is thus a vital geopolitical dispute, marked by four distinct political approaches. Each power runs its own race.

European priorities are concentrated on the development of space infrastructure essential to ensure strategic communications, on the Galileo (GPS navigation) and Copernicus (continuous Earth observation) projects, on the tracking of orbital debris (see the reference to Kessler below), and on research regarding robotic launches. The scarcity of venture capital and fragmentation—every country for itself—are the political issues that need to be resolved.

The United States has consolidated its reliance on public-private partnerships in the aerospace sector. Through the Artemis Accords, Washington seeks to promote international norms that favour free enterprise to maintain its supremacy, leveraging the agility and efficiency of the private sector. Artemis aims to establish a sustained human and robotic presence on the Moon, testing new technologies for the extraction of water and minerals.

China views space through a deeply integrated civil-military lens. For Beijing, it is a strategic domain subject to state control. The Chinese vision constitutes an explicit challenge to US primacy. In this context, China prioritizes the International Lunar Research Station (ILRS), seeking to secure a sovereign infrastructure independent of Western systems. The exploration of the lunar South Pole has become a central objective.

Russia was once a pioneering actor. Today, despite financial constraints and sanctions that limit access to technological components, the space sector continues to be treated as a priority. It retains a highly secretive character. However, it is known to invest primarily in the research and testing of destructive anti-satellite weapons, space-based intelligence, and hypersonic weaponry. This option holds considerable strategic value, both defensive and offensive.

The explosion of space business, operating on an unprecedented financial scale, is another characteristic of our era. The current US dominance is largely driven by private giants such as Jeff Bezos's Blue Origin and, most notably, Elon Musk's SpaceX. By pioneering reusable rockets, SpaceX has drastically reduced launch costs. With a capitalization that already rivals the GDP of major states, the company has rewritten the rules of orbital geopolitics.

These private companies have ceased to be mere service providers. Today, they are central geopolitical actors, wielding enormous economic weight and playing a decisive role in American defence. But, with high economic value comes severe strategic vulnerability. In any potential conflict, the temptation to blind an adversary by destroying their early-warning and communications satellites could be limitless.

An attack of this kind—or even an accidental collision between satellites in orbit—would have devastating systemic effects. There is a risk of triggering the so-called Kessler syndrome: a catastrophic chain reaction in which orbital debris collides with other satellites, generating exponentially more fragments. This would rapidly create a global crisis, with Earth's orbit saturated by high-speed debris directly impacting multiple essential systems. It would not only affect military deterrence: it could compromise the terrestrial economy and provoke a civilizational regression of incalculable consequences.

The 1967 Outer Space Treaty is no longer fit for an era marked by thousands of objects in orbit—a continuously growing number—and by the development of anti-satellite (ASAT) weapons. The Second Space Race, which is currently underway, demands cooperation and far stricter rules—a new treaty. Space cannot be viewed merely as a competition or an extraordinary business opportunity. It is our collective survival that is at stake.