In a stunning display of diplomatic gymnastics, the great and the good have bargained, bickered, and boozed their way to a fresh Iran deal. Let us pause, pour three fingers of gin, and examine the glorious wreckage.
On the surface, Iran gets sanctions relief, a sliver of legitimacy, and the chance to sell oil to anyone with a working tanker. The West gets a breathing space, a monitoring regime that would make Big Brother blush, and the smug satisfaction of having averted immediate catastrophe. Both sides, my friends, have bought themselves a ticket on the Titanic, and they're arguing over deckchair arrangement.
The Americans, ever the optimistic drunk at the bar, believe this deal will tame the Persian lion. They whisper of moderates in Tehran, as if the mullahs were handing out daisies. Meanwhile, Iran's Revolutionary Guard are probably sharpening their rhetoric and planning their next missile test. The deal gives them cash, and cash buys hardware, and hardware buys headaches for everyone else.
Europe, bless its bureaucratic heart, has inserted enough paragraphs to wallpaper a small principality. They hope trade will bind Iran to the world, ignoring that the world has the attention span of a gnat. The snapback sanctions mechanism is a nuclear option in name only, requiring consensus among powers who can't agree on the colour of the sky.
So what does it all mean? It means we have bought time, but time is a currency that devalues faster than the rial. Each side will struggle to keep their promises, not because they are duplicitous, but because they are human. And humans, dear reader, are rubbish at keeping promises. Especially when the alternative is a theatrical walkout and a round of international finger-pointing.
In the grand theatre of geopolitics, this deal is a farce with the odd tragic soliloquy. The audience sits rapt, clutching their popcorn, knowing the final act is always a cliffhanger. So raise your glass to the diplomats, the hawks, the doves, and the spooks. They have given us a reprieve, a chance to drink to the next crisis. Cheers.
