Nearly a month into the war between Iran, the United States and Israel, the conflict is entering a more dangerous and uncertain phase. What initially appeared as a contained escalation is now shifting, with the possibility of a ground operation increasingly on the table. At the same time, indirect talks between Iranian and U.S. officials suggest that diplomacy remains active behind the scenes, as regional actors such as Pakistan, Turkey and Egypt intensify their calls for de-escalation and renewed negotiations. Yet this dual reality exposes a deeper contradiction: while Washington prepares for peace, it is simultaneously preparing for war. That paradox is an alarming signal, one that suggests that even as diplomacy feels within reach, it may in fact be slipping further away.

 

In an effort to reopen a diplomatic track, a reported 15-point ceasefire proposal backed by the Trump administration, with support from Pakistan, has been put forward, outlining what Washington views as the terms for ending the war. While no official version has been published, reporting suggests a clear framework: Iran would be required to dismantle key elements of its nuclear program, halt uranium enrichment and transfer enriched material to the IAEA, alongside the decommissioning of major sites such as Natanz, Isfahan, and Fordow.

 

The proposal also extends beyond the nuclear file, calling on Iran to scale back its regional footprint by cutting support to proxy groups including Hezbollah, Hamas, the Houthis, and armed factions in Iraq, while placing limits on its missile program. In return, Iran would receive sweeping sanctions relief, including the lifting of snapback provisions, as well as support for a civilian nuclear program. Yet taken together, these terms amount to a far-reaching restructuring of Iran’s security doctrine, raising questions not about what is being offered, but whether such conditions are realistically negotiable at all.

 

If Washington is setting the terms for ending the war, Iran is refusing to accept them. Tehran has rejected the U.S. proposal outright, making it clear the war will end only on its own terms and timeline. Its demands, which entail ending what it calls aggression, preventing future conflict and securing reparations, do not leave much room for negotiation. More importantly, Iran has made talks themselves conditional, refusing to engage unless these demands are met first. This suggests Iran is prepared to continue the war rather than compromise on what it sees as core interests, leaving little space for any immediate breakthrough. With both sides holding firm, the question is no longer just about diplomacy, but how the conflict evolves on the ground.

 

Beyond diplomacy, the trajectory of the war has already revealed a critical shift on the battlefield. Iran’s ballistic missile program, while not directed at the U.S. mainland, has demonstrated its effectiveness in targeting Israel and U.S. assets across the region, particularly in the Gulf. This reflects a broader strategy of asymmetric warfare, where Iran leverages range, volume, and regional positioning to impose costs without engaging in direct confrontation. In this context, deterrence is not defined by conventional parity, but by the ability to sustain pressure across multiple fronts and complicate escalation for its adversaries.

 

This raises a more consequential question-whether a ground operation is a realistic next step. Recent U.S. military movements suggest escalation is at least being prepared for. The deployment of approximately 3,500 additional troops under CENTCOM, including the 31st Marine Expeditionary Unit aboard the USS Tripoli, alongside transport aircraft, strike fighters and amphibious assault assets, signals a clear expansion of operational readiness in the region. Yet in practice, a ground invasion of Iran remains highly complex and risky. Iran’s geography, size, and population make it fundamentally different from previous theaters of U.S. intervention, turning any ground campaign into a prolonged and resource-intensive undertaking rather than a decisive strike. More importantly, Iran’s military doctrine is built around layered defense and attrition, meaning any advancing force would face sustained resistance. A ground operation would also risk triggering a wider regional escalation, drawing in proxy groups across Iraq and the Gulf. For these reasons, while the option is increasingly discussed, its feasibility remains limited-not because it is impossible, but because the costs and consequences are likely to outweigh any short-term gains.

 

The financial burden further complicates any escalation. The Center for Strategic and International Studies estimated costs had already reached $16.5 billion by day 12 of the conflict, a figure that is likely far higher as the war continues. At the same time, the White House is seeking at least $200 billion in additional military spending from Congress to sustain operations and replenish stockpiles. Reports have also raised the possibility of Gulf burden-sharing, echoing the 1990 model. Yet such an approach carries risks: financial involvement would not shield Arab states, but could reinforce their position as targets, while also underscoring a broader reality-that even for Washington, the cost of sustaining the war is becoming increasingly difficult to absorb.

 

Iran’s strategy is increasingly defined by the use of non-kinetic leverage. Rather than relying solely on direct confrontation, Tehran is expanding the conflict by targeting critical economic chokepoints. The disruption of the Strait of Hormuz signals its ability to pressure global energy markets, while the Houthis’ entry into the conflict extends that leverage to the Bab al-Mandab, threatening one of the world’s most vital shipping routes. This is not conventional escalation-it is strategic pressure. By applying pressure across two maritime chokepoints that carry a significant share of global trade and energy flows, Iran is widening the cost of the war far beyond the battlefield. In doing so, it is not just engaging its adversaries, but drawing in a broader set of actors whose interests are directly affected by disruption to global supply chains.

 

In this context, the idea of a decisive military victory becomes increasingly unrealistic. The proposed 15-point plan itself echoes earlier attempts to impose structured endgames, most notably the 20-point framework put forward during the war in Gaza-ambitious, but detached from realities on the ground. More fundamentally, any diplomatic pathway is constrained by deep-rooted mistrust between Iran and the United States, a dynamic reinforced by the fact that escalation continued even as negotiations were underway.

 

At the same time, the reliance on military pressure as a tool to force concessions overlooks its limits. Iran’s defense posture-built on dispersion, underground infrastructure, and a layered mix of missiles, proxies, and unconventional capabilities-has proven resilient under sustained pressure. Any further escalation, particularly a ground operation, risks turning the conflict into a prolonged and costly war with no clear endpoint. This asymmetry is key: while the United States would need to achieve defined strategic objectives, for Iran, endurance alone can amount to success.

 

The result is a conflict in which neither side is positioned to secure a clear outcome, yet both need to claim one. The only viable endgame, then, is not a battlefield victory, but a settlement each side can present as one. In the end, the war is unlikely to be won-only managed into something both sides can call victory.