This piece was originally published in The Times of Israel.

The latest round of U.S.-Iran negotiations in Islamabad ended without agreement. That outcome is disappointing, but not surprising. The gaps between the two sides were always going to be difficult to bridge, particularly on the two issues that matter most: Iran’s stockpile of highly enriched uranium and the status of the Strait of Hormuz.

At first glance, the choices facing Washington seem straightforward: 1) resume military operations, or 2) preserve the ceasefire and continue negotiations. In reality, the decision is far more complex—and far less comforting. The United States does not lack options. It lacks options that clearly deliver the outcomes it says it requires.

Start with the military path. Returning to large-scale operations may feel decisive, but it is far from guaranteed to succeed. Iran has already demonstrated a willingness to absorb significant strikes. Eliminating or securing its uranium stockpile would be operationally difficult, and reopening the Strait by force risks sustained escalation. Military action could intensify the conflict without achieving its stated objectives. It is worth remembering that Iran suffered, by conservative estimates, half a million casualties in its eight-year war with Iraq, which ultimately ended in a stalemate.

The alternative—maintaining the ceasefire while continuing talks—offers short-term stability but carries its own risks. A ceasefire that leaves Iran with a substantial stockpile of highly enriched uranium and the ability to threaten global shipping is not a resolution. It is a pause under less favorable conditions.

This is where the concept of “coercive diplomacy” could be considered as a third option: maintain the ceasefire, apply additional pressure, and compel Iran to make concessions. In theory, this offers a middle path. In practice, its effectiveness in this scenario is deeply uncertain.

Iran holds a form of asymmetric leverage that few countries possess. Its ability to disrupt or threaten the flow of energy through the Strait of Hormuz gives it outsized influence over the global economy. It does not need to prevail militarily to shape outcomes. It only needs to raise the costs on the United States.

That reality constrains the tools available to Washington. Sanctions are already extensive and slow to generate additional leverage. Cyber and covert actions are unlikely to produce decisive or lasting effects on either the nuclear program or maritime access. Military signaling, absent a willingness to escalate further, risks becoming background noise after weeks of sustained strikes.

There are still levers the U.S. can pull. Today’s announcement of a naval blockade is a case in point.  The U.S. retains significant capability in the maritime domain and could also work with partners in on forming an international coalition to escort vessels and clearing the mines, thereby asserting freedom of navigation proactively while essentially daring Iran to intervene. The U.S. could also try to apply other forms of additional economic and diplomatic pressure on Iran in coordination with partners and the broader economic community.

But none of these tools, on their own, offer a clear or low-risk path to achieving both of Washington’s stated objectives: removing the threat posed by Iran’s enriched uranium stockpile and restoring the Strait of Hormuz as a genuinely open international waterway.

Some have suggested that outside actors, particularly China, could play a more active role in pressuring Iran. Beijing has an obvious interest in stable energy flows. But it is unlikely to align itself with a U.S.-led coercive strategy. China benefits from access to Iranian energy and has little incentive to take on the risks associated with forcing Iranian concessions. At most, it may quietly encourage de-escalation, but is not likely to enforce it.

The result is an extremely constrained decision space. Coercive diplomacy remains an option, but it is not a particularly strong one. It may buy time. It may test Iranian intentions. But it may also simply prolong a situation in which Iran retains its leverage while negotiations drag on.

That leads to an uncomfortable conclusion. The challenge facing the United States is not choosing between diplomacy and force. It is deciding what it is prepared to accept if neither delivers the outcomes it seeks.

For the United States and its partners, including those committed to a more integrated and secure Middle East, the path forward must be guided by clarity and consistency. Two principles should anchor any next phase.

First, the ceasefire cannot become an endpoint. It must be used as leverage to drive concrete progress on the issues at the heart of the conflict—verifiable constraints on Iran’s nuclear program and the restoration of the Strait of Hormuz as a genuinely open international waterway. That requires setting clear expectations, working in close coordination with European and regional partners, and being prepared to impose consequences if progress does not materialize.

Second, the United States should deepen coordination with its partners in the Middle East—including Israel and key Arab states—not only to deter further escalation, but to reinforce a broader vision of regional integration that stands in direct contrast to Iran’s model of coercion and disruption. Efforts to secure maritime access, stabilize energy markets, and expand cooperation across economic and security domains are not separate from either the diplomatic or military track—they are essential to either.

A ceasefire without consequences risks worse outcomes than before. A return to force risks escalation without resolution. And prolonged negotiations risk entrenching the very dynamics Washington is trying to change.

After Islamabad, the illusion of easy options has fallen away. What remains are hard choices and the recognition that none of them come with clear answers.