The war has not ended, it has simply changed shape

In moments that might appear decisive, the details often reveal something else entirely: the beginning of a more complex phase. The ceasefire agreement between the US and Iran did not end the war so much as shift it to a different level, from direct military confrontation to a struggle over how the agreement itself is interpreted.

This is not the end of a crisis, but its transformation from a war of missiles to a war of words in which interpretation becomes part of the balance of power.

From the outset, the agreement carried its own contradictions. In Washington, it was presented as the result of military success that had forced Tehran back to the negotiating table. In Tehran, it was framed as a shift in the American position, an implicit acceptance of terms that had previously been rejected.

This divergence is not merely rhetorical; it is structural. The text was not crafted as a detailed, binding accord but as a broad framework open to different readings. As a result, each side is acting according to its own interpretation, not any shared commitment.

This ambiguity quickly played out on the ground. The gap in interpretation produced a dangerous outcome: the agreement did not stop the war, it redistributed it. The direct confrontation between the US and Iran receded, but clashes intensified across indirect arenas, particularly Lebanon, and extended into the Gulf, where attacks on critical infrastructure continued.

Hormuz has not been removed from the equation, it has been folded into a temporary balance that could unravel at any moment.

Dr. Abdellatif El-Menawy

Military operations did not fully cease; the strikes carried on across several fronts, exposing the failure of the agreement to achieve its most basic function: freezing the conflict. On the contrary, the agreement itself became part of the conflict, used by each side to justify continuing actions. Every party claims compliance with the accord, and each justifies its violations by pointing to the other’s breaches or to “misinterpretation” of the text.

Nowhere is this contradiction more clear than in Lebanon. Israel, with political backing from US President Donald Trump, interpreted the agreement as excluding the Lebanese front and continued its military operations against Hezbollah at a high pace.

Iran, in contrast, insists that the ceasefire covers “all fronts,” a phrase that appears simple but carries with it deep complexity. Is Lebanon part of the agreement or a separate arena? The text does not settle the question, so the debate has moved directly onto the battlefield.

This dynamic echoes a familiar historical pattern. Just as ambiguity in the wording of UN Security Council Resolution 242 in the aftermath of the 1967 Six-Day War opened the door to decades of dispute over whether “withdrawal from territories” meant all territories or only some, we are once again facing a linguistic difference of opinion with strategic consequences. Language here is not simply a tool of communication, it is an instrument for shaping reality.

Anxiety in the Gulf is another critical factor that cannot be overlooked. For Gulf states, the agreement does not necessarily signal stability; instead, it raises the concern that it could evolve into a bilateral US-Iranian arrangement that sidelines their security interests.

The continuation of threats and attacks, even after the ceasefire announcement, reinforces the perception that the deal might reduce the direct confrontation without constraining Iran’s regional influence. This renders the Gulf concerns a central issue, not peripheral. Any arrangement that fails to address them is unlikely to produce stability; it will create only a fragile equilibrium, vulnerable to collapse.

The underlying question remains: is Iran being contained, or gradually reintegrated under new terms?

The Strait of Hormuz, initially seen as a central pillar of the agreement, has instead itself become a measure of its ambiguity. It has shifted from a flash point of escalation to a test case.

The status of the strait has not been definitively resolved. It is now part of a broader negotiating equation. Freedom of navigation appears guaranteed in theory, but in practice it is tied to informal arrangements that give Iran a degree of influence over its regulation.

This is not a resolution, it is a postponement of the confrontation over one of the world’s most strategic choke points. Hormuz has not been removed from the equation, it has been folded into a temporary balance that could unravel at any moment.

In this context, it becomes necessary to move beyond describing the present moment and attempt to anticipate what might come next, difficult as that is, particularly given the unpredictability of Trump, whose approach combines escalation with a desire for quick, visible wins, which means his next moves are hard to forecast in any linear way.

Three near-term scenarios suggest themselves. The first is a gradual containment leading to a broader, informal truce. In this scenario, diplomatic efforts over the coming weeks succeed in narrowing the gap in interpretation, particularly regarding Lebanon. An undeclared understanding emerges that effectively includes all fronts, without formal acknowledgment, allowing for a gradual deescalation. This could open the door to wider negotiations on sanctions and regional roles, with limited concessions from both sides. It is possible but inherently fragile.

The second scenario is a prolonged, fragile truce with localized escalation. This is the most likely outcome in the short term. The ceasefire remains in place as a formal framework, while clashes continue in areas that are either excluded or disputed, Lebanon chief among them. Escalation is managed, to prevent a full-scale war, but remains a constant presence. In this scenario, the agreement becomes a tool for managing conflict rather than resolving it.

The third, and most dangerous, scenario is the collapse of the agreement and a return to direct escalation. This could occur if interpretive disputes cannot be contained or if a major incident, a significant strike or direct targeting, forces one side to reopen full confrontation. In this case, the next round could be more intense, as tensions deferred during the present phase return with greater force.

Across all the scenarios, the least predictable variable remains the political decision-making in Washington, particularly under an approach defined by sudden shifts and fluctuating pressure. Yet there is one constant: all parties understand that a full-scale war would carry costs far exceeding any potential gains. That recognition places an unspoken ceiling on escalation.

What we are witnessing, then, is neither a successful agreement nor a failed one, in the traditional sense. It is a transitional phase in which the rules of engagement are being reshaped without being settled. The agreement has not ended the conflict, it has revealed its limits. This is not the end of a war but the beginning of a new phase of a conflict.

Each side might have its own narrative but the reality is simpler and more unsettling: the war has not stopped, it has changed shape. And perhaps that is the most dangerous outcome of all. Wars that neither end decisively nor conclude clearly are the ones most likely to return, often in a more violent form.

• Dr. Abdellatif El-Menawy has covered conflicts worldwide. He is the author of “The Copts: An Investigation into the Rift between Muslims and Copts in Egypt.” X: @ALMenawy