Brinkmanship: Negotiating Through War and Threat

At first glance, the paradox of the current landscape appears stark. Donald Trump’s rhetoric seems chaotic, erratic, and deeply personalized-closer to impulsiveness than to strategy. Meanwhile, the conduct of the Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps, particularly in expanding theaters of conflict and broadening target ranges, is widely perceived as a form of irrational gambling. Yet this reading is, in all likelihood, precisely what most obscures a proper understanding of the ongoing war and the strategies of its key actors-especially Trump and the IRGC.

The issue does not lie in the absence of rationality on either side. Rather, both are operating within a distinct mode of strategic rationality-one that deliberately produces ambiguity, systematically elevates risk, and amplifies the adversary’s sense of uncertainty. In this framework, war itself becomes a language of negotiation, and escalation transforms into an instrument of coercion rather than a mere breakdown of politics.

In Trump’s case, his discourse cannot be understood through the conventional frameworks that governed previous U.S. administrations. What we are witnessing is a different pattern altogether-one in which personality takes precedence over institutions, and the bureaucratic tempo gives way to a rapid, individualized rhythm that appears outwardly inconsistent. His frequent statements may seem contradictory or even conflicting, yet in reality they function as part of a broader strategy: to inundate adversaries-and even allies-with uncertainty, thereby making it exceedingly difficult to anchor a clear position regarding his true intentions.

This pattern of discourse has become a defining feature of Donald Trump’s personality and governing style. He does not speak merely to articulate a position; rather, he speaks to impose a negotiating tempo-escalating demands to their upper limits, hinting at the possibility of a deal, then reverting to threats in a recurring cycle that leaves the adversary facing a persistent question: what does he actually want? This deliberate ambiguity creates a broad space for maneuver, enabling him to recalibrate his positions without appearing to retreat. It is precisely here that the “deal-making” mindset becomes evident: first, maximize leverage; then, leave an exit open, while maintaining a level of threat sufficient to convince the other side that the alternative would be worse.

From a theoretical perspective, this approach resonates with key insights from Thomas C. Schelling, who conceptualized conflict as a strategic interaction in which threats, commitments, and risk are employed to shape the adversary’s behavior. In this view, power is not confined to its direct application; rather, it lies in making its use both possible and credible, and in managing ambiguity in a way that compels the opposing side to reassess its calculations. Equally relevant is the notion of “bargaining through risk”-the deliberate movement toward the brink without crossing it, in order to force the adversary to step back.

Conversely, what many politicians and observers in the region perceive as “irrational” in Iran’s behavior-particularly that of the Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps-becomes more intelligible when viewed through the same analytical lens, detached from the frameworks of international law or from national, religious, or ethical considerations governing Iran’s relations with its neighbors. This is, at its core, a strategic game. When the IRGC signals the potential expansion of conflict into the Gulf or threatens energy corridors, it is seeking to alter the structure of the game itself: to shift the conflict from a domain where the balance of power favors Washington to a broader arena in which costs are distributed across multiple actors, and where markets, energy flows, and regional stability become integral components of the equation.

In this context, it is essential to distinguish between two levels within Iran. The first is that of the IRGC, which manages the conflict through a logic of deterrence by expansion-raising the adversary’s costs by externalizing risk beyond Iranian territory. The second is the level of the pragmatic elite, represented by the president and the foreign minister, who-within the same system-seek a strategic exit that halts attrition, reopens channels of negotiation, and prevents the country’s slide into an open confrontation that could further consolidate the IRGC’s domestic influence at the expense of the state. In this duality, the IRGC elevates the ceiling of risk, while Iranian diplomacy attempts to convert that heightened risk into bargaining leverage. Here, one may also draw on the framework of Robert Pape, who distinguishes between coercion by punishment and coercion by denial: while the United States tends to combine both, Iran relies more heavily on indirect coercion by punishment, particularly through threatening economic and regional interests.

In sum, this war offers a near-ideal case for examining Game Theory in the realm of foreign policy. Both actors, to varying degrees, are behaving “by the book.” What follows will depend on whether this brinkmanship succeeds in producing a new equilibrium. If both sides continue to manage escalation within controllable limits, a gradual shift toward an implicit understanding-or an asymmetrical ceasefire, politically framed as an “achievement of objectives”-may emerge. The real danger, however, lies in the possibility that deliberate ambiguity devolves into what Pape terms an “escalation trap,” particularly if current efforts to reinitiate negotiations fail. In such a scenario, war may shift from coercive bargaining to open confrontation-an outcome neither side seeks, yet one that becomes increasingly plausible the closer all parties move to the edge of the abyss.