Inching Ahead on a Deal with Iran
A few days ago, as delegations from the five permanent members of the U.N. Security Council—the United States, Britain, France, Russia, and China—and Germany (known as the P5-plus-1) descended on Geneva to meet with Iranian diplomats for the second time in less than a month, one could be forgiven for neither noticing nor even caring very much. It looked to be yet another round of unremarkable negotiations over Iran’s nuclear program, talks whose defenders and detractors agree have never resulted in much beyond, well, more talking.
After the election of Hassan Rouhani—Mahmoud Ahmadinejad’s political antipode—to the Iranian Presidency this summer, and his selection of the reformist (and urbane) Mohammad Javad Zarif as Foreign Minister, expectations for a break in the stalemate that has come to define relations between the Islamic Republic and the West grew among both Iranians and Americans. A courteous phone call between President Obama and Rouhani in September—the first time that leaders of the two countries had spoken since 1979—seemed to be a signal that Iran and the U.S. might, after all, find a way to resolve the nuclear standoff. The first round of negotiations was set for October 15th and 16th, and the world’s press corps (including more than forty Iranian journalists, flown in from Tehran) dutifully followed the negotiating teams to Geneva’s Intercontinental Hotel. The hotel’s opulent lobby was transformed into a reporters’ den, with laptops, iPads, and iPhones strewn about the floors, their cords fighting for empty sockets, and coffee tables stacked with nine-dollar cups of espresso and the remnants of forty-dollar burgers. The Iranians, the women in hijabs and the men bearded and tieless, stood out not just for their appearance, but also for their seemingly endless patience and almost instinctive avoidance of the bar area. Zarif had apparently delivered a proposal in a PowerPoint presentation, but its terms were kept secret. All that the reporters were able to learn, to their dismay, was that the next round of talks would be held in the very same place, under similarly leak-free conditions.
Despite the upbeat attitude among the negotiators, who once again arrived at the Intercontinental on Wednesday, the lack of information led to a rather sombre mood among the much-reduced press corps. The hotel’s lobby, to the delight of its silver-haired manager, and perhaps to the negotiators’ as well, had returned to its natural, pristine state. The Iranian journalists were nowhere to be seen. Among the few other reporters in attendance, the main question was whether enduring two days in a delightful city without ever leaving the hotel, while trying to coax out enough details for an article, or even a tweet, was worth the effort, to say nothing of the expense.
By Thursday evening, however—after two sessions of talks that produced no announcements worth more than a hundred and forty characters—a remarkable thing happened. John Kerry announced from Jordan that he would arrive in Geneva the next day to join in the talks, and a group of thirty-five Iranian journalists descended on the hotel—hijabs, cameras, and all. They had arrived on a chartered Iran Air jet from Tehran, and the lobby sprang to life.
Journalists, bathed in the wan blue light of dozens of LCD screens, furiously filed stories about the rumors of an impending breakthrough. Surely Kerry, who had been conspicuously absent from the previous round, wouldn’t bother to come to Geneva—abandoning a furious Benjamin Netanyahu in Jerusalem—unless a deal was imminent? Or maybe not. The delegations themselves were tight-lipped. But a peculiar sixth sense had impelled reporters to board planes to Geneva even before Kerry’s itinerary was made public. By midday on Friday, the Intercontinental was not only a mess of people and equipment, it had become a holding pen: Swiss police marched in and out of the lobby with dogs; machine-gun-toting officers in sunglasses patrolled the driveway in the rain; and camera crews were relegated to a barricaded area outside. (They were shuffled to a more comfortable area under the portico when the drizzle became a downpour.)
Word began to spread that Kerry’s European counterparts were also en route. Each time one of them arrived, the lobby erupted in shouts of “Fabius!” (Laurent, the French Foreign Minister) or “Hague! Hague!” (William, the Foreign Secretary of Britain), followed by a crush of reporters rushing to get a word, or at least an Instagram, out of the encounter. Then Kerry pulled up in a Cadillac, his arrival signalled by the Swiss security forces with helicopters, sirens, and rooftop snipers.
Little of substance was said by any official, including Kerry, other than anodyne statements that there was “progress,” yet still “a ways to go.” (“It’s tough,” Zarif added.) An outburst from Netanyahu, delivered via YouTube, condemning what he called “a bad deal—a very, very bad deal” and rejecting any agreement that did not involve Iran’s complete surrender, provided a diversion, while Russian Foreign Minister Sergei Lavrov’s on-again, off-again travel plans were endlessly mooted. By the end of the day, it was confirmed that Lavrov had indeed decided to fly in, perhaps after he was assured that the Intercontinental does have a smoking floor. While more empty coffee cups piled up in the lobby, Zarif, Kerry, and Catherine Ashton, the European Union’s High Representative for Foreign Affairs, went into a trilateral meeting—which lasted almost five hours and ended in time for the delegations to catch some sleep before resuming negotiations Saturday morning.
Iran and the United States hadn’t talked for five hours in the past thirty-four years. We’ll have to wait to find out whether this is a historic moment, or merely another lost opportunity. But it seems improbable that the Americans and Iranians would make such a production of these talks without some real confidence that signing on the dotted line is within reach. Iran’s Supreme Leader, Ali Khamenei, took to Twitter to emphasize his support for the negotiations and his negotiators, whom he called “children of the #Revolution”—suggesting that hardliners in Tehran would have a difficult time sabotaging an agreement.
By Saturday morning, as talks went into an unscheduled third day, rumors that the French had objected to a proposed deal floated around the lobby of the Intercontinental; soon, news agencies were reporting that the rumors were true, especially after Fabius told a French radio station that his country would not agree to a “sucker’s deal.” Talks between Iran and the U.S., Iran and other P5-plus-1 members, and among the P5-plus-1 nations themselves dragged on into the evening. The Chinese deputy foreign minister, fresh off a long flight from Beijing, was spotted walking through the lobby, late to the party.
As of Saturday night, it looked like it would take at least one more round of talks to reach a breakthrough. Members of the Iranian delegation indicated that the objections to signing a draft agreement came from the other side, but suggested that the remaining gaps looked too great to overcome in the few hours remaining. Zarif repeated what he had said before these discussions began—that it “wouldn’t be a disaster” if a deal was not signed this weekend. More talks are scheduled late tonight in Geneva, in a last-ditch attempt to secure a deal while the seven foreign ministers are gathered in one place, though the negotiators (and reporters) appear to be condemned to return to Geneva and the Intercontinental Hotel. But what matters most, really, is the hope harbored by many ordinary Iranians—and, one presumes, ordinary Americans and Israelis, too—that the decadelong nuclear crisis may be coming to an end. Iranians might soon have a chance to enjoy the fruits of an improved economy and better relations with the world, relieved of the crushing burden of sanctions. Americans and Israelis might also be relieved that the possibility of a war will be off the table, and assured that Iran doesn’t have the means to threaten a nuclear showdown. At last, the two sides are talking seriously; making something happen is now up to Kerry and Zarif, with help from some friends. We’re waiting, and we’ll drink as many nine-dollar coffees as it takes.
Hooman Majd is an Iranian-American author and journalist. His new book, “The Ministry of Guidance Invites You To Not Stay,” was published this month.
Source: New Yorker