The question circulating in major capitals across the globe is whether or not the United States will strike Iran. Yet perhaps the more important question has become: Can Tehran succeed in appeasing the Americans with an economic offering worth over two trillion dollars?

The current conflict goes well beyond a simple binary of war or peace. This is a contest over timing, the cost of decisions, and who will bear the consequences of the first move if the fragile balance collapses.

On the surface, all the elements for a military strike are in place. Iran’s nuclear program is technically approaching a military threshold, the U.S. has deployed significant forces in the region, and Israeli pressure continues, noting that time is working in Tehran’s favor. These factors make a strike a real option on the table which awaits only political authorization.

The United States is not mobilizing on this scale merely for show. The message is clear: a military option is possible and can be executed quickly if decided. Yet, at a deeper level, the balance still leans, so far, toward restraint.

The first reason is that the negotiation track, however fragile or slow it may appear, is still active. From the U.S. perspective, keeping a political channel open is far less costly than sliding into a confrontation that could spiral out of control.

A strike is not merely a technical military decision; it is a strategic gamble. Washington understands that Iran’s response would not be symbolic. It could involve U.S. bases in the region, Gulf maritime security, and networks of allies and proxies capable of opening simultaneous fronts.

Any “limited” strike could quickly escalate into a wider regional confrontation, even if neither side intends it.

Then there is the question of effectiveness. The prevailing view within U.S. decision-making circles is that a strike, no matter how precise, might delay Iran’s nuclear program but would not destroy it. Worse, it could backfire, prompting Tehran to accelerate nuclear armament and abandon its policy of ambiguity—a policy that still serves as a partial stabilizer of the crisis. In this sense, a strike would be high-cost and limited in impact, the worst-case scenario from a strategic standpoint.

At the same time, a strike cannot be completely ruled out. The balance of probabilities could shift quickly if negotiations collapse or if a significant incident redefines the red lines, whether through a direct attack on U.S. interests or an unexpected development in the nuclear file. At that point, Washington could face two unappealing options: strike with all its risks or accept Iran on the nuclear threshold.

Here a new factor comes into play: Iran’s carrots. Tehran has not only increased nuclear pressure but has also waved the economic card with unprecedented figures. From a $1 trillion offer last spring to talk today of more than $2 trillion, Iran is trying to reshape the equation with the U.S. president through a message of “investment” rather than “sanctions.”

The idea is clear: shift the conflict from a field of threats and deterrence to a table of deals and contracts. The discussion involves building dozens of peaceful nuclear reactors, purchasing 1,500 Boeing airplanes, importing millions of cars, and making massive investments in oil, gas, pharmaceuticals, and electronics. It is an attempt to appeal to a president who sees the world through the lens of deals and measures success in big numbers.

From the American perspective, the offer is not without appeal. A deal of this scale could deliver strong political capital: new jobs, a boost to struggling industries, and a revival of the civilian nuclear sector that Washington seeks to reinvigorate. Turning the confrontation with Iran into an economic track could appear as an achievement that avoids a costly war and allows the president to present himself as a dealmaker rather than a conflict starter.

But between the lure and the execution lies a wide gap.

The first of these gaps is the complex and intertwined sanctions system. A deal worth trillions would require a broad lifting of sanctions, a decision that would not pass muster politically in Washington. Congress, regional alliances, and domestic political calculations are all heavy factors in the equation.

Second is trust. The experience of the 2015 nuclear deal, the U.S. withdrawal, and subsequent mutual escalation have left trust between the two sides nearly nonexistent. Any American investment of this magnitude would need solid guarantees in a highly volatile regional environment.

Third are alliances. Washington’s partners in the region view any economic opening with suspicion unless paired with strict and clear nuclear constraints. Any “soft” agreement could be seen as a strategic concession granting Iran additional resources without fundamentally changing its regional behavior.

Finally, there is the realism of the numbers themselves. Buying 1,500 planes or importing millions of cars requires long-term financing, insurance, and stable market infrastructure, all dependent on a fragile political track. Inflating the figure from $1 trillion to $2 trillion likely reflects a negotiation tactic: the higher the threat, the bigger the economic lure.

We are therefore facing two parallel tracks: military deterrence and economic temptation. Both are part of a long game of nerves.

The United States does not want war, but it is not closing the door. Iran is raising pressure without jumping past the point of no return. The proposed deal could serve as an entry point to reopen a new economic–nuclear negotiation track, but it is far from turning quickly into signed contracts worth trillions.

The equation is not “strike or deal,” but “which option will cost less.” War is a gamble that could open doors difficult to close. And the grand deal, no matter how dazzling it appears, will not be measured by its announced size but by its ability to survive the first test of trust.

The Middle East is at a pivotal moment, yet what is happening now is less an imminent war than a calculated management of tension. Still, in a region accustomed to erupting over miscalculations or minor incidents, the question remains: who will bear the cost of the first move if the fragile balance collapses?

Disclaimer: The opinions expressed by the writers are their own and do not necessarily represent the views of Annahar.