At the United Nations, Iranian President Masoud Pezeshkian stood before the world's assembled nations and offered what diplomacy has always required of adversaries: the simultaneous performance of strength and the quiet extension of an open hand. Speaking in the shadow of assassinated leaders and dead children, he accused Washington of waging war while inviting it to talk — a paradox that is not contradiction but the oldest grammar of statecraft. Somewhere between Trump's threat to annihilate Iran and a three-hour closed-door meeting on the assembly's sidelines, the actual future of the confli
Iran's Pezeshkian Defies Trump at UN While Signaling Openness to Talks
Ready for dialogue, but without the language of force
So Pezeshkian gave this defiant speech but also said he's open to talks. How do we read that?
He's threading a needle. Domestically, he needs to show strength—Iran was attacked, the supreme leader was killed, over 150 children died. He can't look weak. But economically, Iran is being strangled. The blockade on oil exports, the sanctions, now civilian aircraft are being grounded. He needs a way out.
But what does "open to talks" actually mean here? He laid out seven preconditions. That's not really openness—that's a list of demands.
True. But the three-hour meeting between Araghchi and Witkoff suggests both sides found something to discuss. That's not nothing.
What's Iran actually asking for?
Control of the Strait of Hormuz, essentially. They want to inspect ships, which means shifting control from international waters to Iranian waters. They also want sanctions lifted, the blockade ended, and the war to stop.
And the US wants oil prices down before November elections. So there's a clock on this.
Can they actually reach a deal?
The fact that talks lasted three hours and both sides called it constructive suggests maybe. But Rezaei, the hardline security official, is already saying the strait won't reopen until conditions are met. There's real domestic pressure on Pezeshkian not to give ground.
How bad is Iran's economic situation?
Severe. They can barely export oil. Oman and Iraq have closed their airspace to Iranian civilian planes because of US secondary sanctions threats. The country is being economically isolated.
So Pezeshkian is negotiating from weakness, even though he's talking tough.
Exactly. He has to sound strong at home while desperately needing a deal to ease the pressure.
And Trump walked out of his speech, so the optics are still hostile even if the backchannels are open.
Right. The theater and the negotiation are completely separate things.
Il Polso
- Iran's supreme leader has been killed, over 150 schoolchildren are dead, and Pezeshkian arrived at the UN not as a supplicant but as an accuser — holding photographs of the fallen as evidence of who he says started this war.
- The Strait of Hormuz blockade is strangling global energy markets, with fewer than five identifiable tankers passing daily, and US midterm elections are creating a domestic clock that Washington cannot ignore.
- A surprise three-hour meeting between Iran's foreign minister and the US special envoy — the first since June — suggests both sides are probing for an exit, even as hardliners at home warn that no strait reopening happens without Iran's seven preconditions being met first.
- Iranian civilian aircraft face potential worldwide grounding from secondary sanctions, Oman and Iraq have closed their airspace to Iranian planes, and the economic suffocation is accelerating faster than any diplomatic timeline.
- The US delegation walked out of Pezeshkian's speech while American envoys were still warm from three hours of talks with his foreign minister — the theater and the substance of this diplomacy are running on entirely separate tracks.
At the United Nations, Iranian President Masoud Pezeshkian stood before the world's assembled nations and offered what diplomacy has always required of adversaries: the simultaneous performance of strength and the quiet extension of an open hand. Speaking in the shadow of assassinated leaders and dead children, he accused Washington of waging war while inviting it to talk — a paradox that is not contradiction but the oldest grammar of statecraft. Somewhere between Trump's threat to annihilate Iran and a three-hour closed-door meeting on the assembly's sidelines, the actual future of the conflict is being quietly negotiated.
Masoud Pezeshkian arrived at the United Nations General Assembly carrying photographs — of Iran's assassinated supreme leader Ayatollah Khamenei, and of more than 150 schoolchildren killed in the opening days of a war he says was brought to Iran, not started by it. His speech was defiant: Washington, he told the assembly, is the true bully in the Middle East. "We have only defended ourselves," he said. "We are not terrorists."
Yet woven into the defiance was an offer. Iran is ready for dialogue and diplomacy, Pezeshkian said — but not under the language of force. The timing was pointed. Trump had addressed the same body a day earlier, floating the word "annihilate" while simultaneously praising renewed talks. On the assembly's sidelines, Iran's Foreign Minister Abbas Araghchi had just spent three hours in a surprise meeting with US Special Envoy Steve Witkoff — the first such encounter since June, and by all accounts, a constructive one.
The real negotiation lives in the gap between rhetoric and reality. Iran's central demand concerns the Strait of Hormuz, intermittently blockaded since the war began, which has sent global energy prices soaring. Tehran wants the right to inspect ships passing through — effectively placing one of the world's most critical energy chokepoints under Iranian oversight. Iran has also signaled the strait could reopen within seven days if its seven preconditions are met: an end to hostilities, a halt to US military action, lifting of the naval blockade, cessation of sanctions, and release of frozen assets.
The pressure on Washington is immediate. November midterms loom, Republicans need lower oil prices, and the blockade has reduced tanker traffic to a trickle. Americans believe they are losing the current conflict, and appetite for full-scale war is vanishing. For Iran, the pressure is economic suffocation — sanctions, a naval blockade cutting off oil exports, and this week, Iranian civilian aircraft facing potential worldwide grounding as neighboring countries close their airspace under threat of US secondary sanctions.
At home, hardliners are watching. Mohsen Rezaei, secretary of the supreme national security council, refused to call the New York talks "negotiations" and warned that the strait would stay closed until Iran's conditions were implemented — adding that neighbors who ban Iranian travel would find their own airports emptied of flights. Pezeshkian's domestic audience heard defiance. The world heard an invitation. Whether the three hours in New York were the beginning of a real negotiation or merely its performance remains the question on which everything else turns.
Masoud Pezeshkian stood before the United Nations General Assembly in New York and flipped the script. The Iranian president, speaking for the first time since the US and Israel launched what he called an all-out war on his country, accused Washington of being the true bully and terrorist in the Middle East. He held up photographs of Ayatollah Ali Khamenei, Iran's supreme leader who was assassinated at the start of the conflict, and images of more than 150 schoolchildren killed in the opening days. "We have only defended ourselves," he said. "We are not terrorists."
But Pezeshkian's defiance came wrapped in an unexpected offer. "It must be understood by President Trump and those who seek to bully us that we are ready for dialogue and diplomacy and negotiations but without the language of force," he told the assembly. The timing was deliberate. Just a day earlier, Trump had told the same body he was weighing whether to "annihilate" Iran—yet in the same breath, he praised renewed talks between Tehran and Washington's negotiators. On the sidelines of the assembly, Iran's foreign minister Abbas Araghchi had spent three hours in a surprise meeting with US special envoy Steve Witkoff. Both sides described it as constructive. It was the first such encounter since June.
The gap between the rhetoric and the reality on the ground is where the actual negotiation lives. Pezeshkian made clear that Iran's focus is the Strait of Hormuz, the vital waterway that has been intermittently blockaded since the war began, sending global energy prices soaring. He signaled that Iran wants its Arab neighbors to support Tehran's proposals for the strait's future. The substance of that position is stark: Iran will not tolerate the waterway being used to transport arms that could be turned against it. This amounts to a demand for the right to inspect ships passing through—a shift that would place control of one of the world's most critical energy chokepoints under Iranian rather than international oversight. Within the past 48 hours, Iran had added a new wrinkle: the strait could be reopened within seven days if its conditions were met.
Iran has laid out seven preconditions for returning to full negotiations. They include an end to the war in all its dimensions, a halt to American military actions, lifting of the naval blockade, cessation of economic sanctions, and the release of frozen Iranian assets. The foreign ministry spokesperson Esmail Baghaei confirmed that these conditions had been conveyed to the American side through Qatari mediation, and he emphasized that Iran's position had not shifted. Yet the three-hour length of the Araghchi-Witkoff meeting suggests some progress was made, or at least that both sides found enough common ground to keep talking.
The pressure on Washington is real and immediate. The US faces a November midterm election, and Republicans are desperate to lower oil prices and increase refined oil availability before voters go to the polls. The blockade in the Strait of Hormuz has reduced the number of identifiable tankers making it through to fewer than five a day. The situation is compounded by uncertainty over the Bab al-Mandab strait, another critical energy chokepoint in the Red Sea, which is threatened by Iran-backed Houthi paramilitaries. There is little appetite in the Trump administration for a full-scale war with Iran or the Houthis—Americans believe they are losing the current conflict, and it has become deeply unpopular.
For Iran, the pressure is of a different kind. Sanctions have intensified, and a US naval blockade makes it nearly impossible to export oil, depriving the country of desperately needed foreign currency. On Wednesday, Iranian civilian aircraft faced a potential worldwide grounding due to the threat of US secondary sanctions on any entity engaging with Iran's fleet. Iranian officials negotiated frantically with neighboring countries to maintain an air bridge, but Oman and Iraq appear to have been forced to close their airspace to Iranian planes. The economic strangulation is real and accelerating.
Pezeshkian's domestic audience heard defiance. He insisted that Iran did not seek special treatment but equal rights, and he questioned the double standard: "They kill, we are sanctioned." He argued that regional security lay in agreement among neighbors, not with outsiders like the US. But hardliners at home are watching closely. Mohsen Rezaei, the hardline secretary of the supreme national security council, refused to call the talks with Americans "negotiations." He warned that the Strait of Hormuz would not be opened and no negotiation would proceed until Iran's conditions were implemented. He also issued a threat to Iran's neighbors: if they implement a US-induced ban on Iranian travel, "their airports will have no flights either."
The US did grant Pezeshkian a visa to attend the assembly—a decision that had been in doubt—but Washington denied visas to several members of his entourage. When Pezeshkian began his speech, the US delegation walked out. The theater of diplomacy and the substance of it are moving on separate tracks. What happens next depends on whether the three-hour meeting in New York was the beginning of a negotiation or merely a performance of one.
Citazioni salienti
We have only defended ourselves. We are not terrorists. Our innocent people have been the targets of cowardly attacks and aggressions imposed upon our country.— Masoud Pezeshkian, Iranian president, at UN General Assembly
It must be understood by President Trump and those who seek to bully us that we are ready for dialogue and diplomacy and negotiations but without the language of force.— Masoud Pezeshkian