terms

Iranian President Masoud Pezeshkian has laid out terms for ending the war with the United States and Israel in what analysts say is a possible sign of de-escalation from Tehran as the US-Israel war on Iran entered its 13th day on Thursday.

In a post on Wednesday on social site X, Pezeshkian said he had spoken to his counterparts in Russia and Pakistan, and that he had confirmed “Iran’s commitment to peace”.

“The only way to end this war – ignited by the Zionist regime & US – is recognizing Iran’s legitimate rights, payment of reparations, and firm int’l guarantees against future aggression,” Pezeshkian wrote.

This is a rare posture from Tehran, which has maintained a defiant stance and initially rejected any possibility of negotiations or a ceasefire when war broke out nearly two weeks ago.

Pezeshkian’s statement comes as pressure mounts on the US to halt what has become a very costly mission. Analysts say speculation from Washington that Iran would quickly submit after the killing of Supreme Leader Ayatollah Ali Khamenei were misguided.

Tehran is likely going to determine the end of this war, not the US or Israel, because of its ability to inflict economic pain broadly, they say.

Amid a military pummelling by the US and Israel, Iran has launched heavy retaliatory strikes at US assets and other critical infrastructure in Gulf countries, upsetting global supplies. It has also adopted what analysts call “asymmetric” tactics – such as disrupting the critical Strait of Hormuz and threatening US banking-linked entities – to inflict as much economic pain on the region and wider world as it can.

This is what we know about Pezeshkian’s stance and what the pressures are on both sides to draw the conflict to a close, quickly.

What has the war cost so far?

Economically, both sides have weaponised energy. Israel first targeted Iran’s oil facilities in Tehran on March 8, prompting an outcry from global health experts over the potential risk of air and water pollution.

Iran has, meanwhile, tightened its chokehold on the Strait of Hormuz shipping route – the only route to open sea for oil producers in the Gulf – with its military promising on Wednesday that it has the capabilities to wage a long war that could “destroy” the world economy.

Attacks on ships in the strait, through which about 20 percent of global oil and gas traffic normally passes, have effectively closed the route.

Oil prices rocketed above $100 per barrel late last week, up from around $65 before the war, with ordinary buyers feeling the increases at pumps in the US, Europe and parts of Africa.

On Wednesday, Iran upped the ante, saying it would not allow “a litre of oil” to pass through the strait and warned the world to expect a $200-per-barrel price tag.

“We don’t know how quickly it’ll revert back,” Freya Beamish, chief economist at GlobalData TS Lombard, told Al Jazeera. “We do think it’ll revert back to $80 in due course, but the ball is to some degree in Iran’s court,” she said, adding that because Iran needs oil revenue, the price hikes are expected to be time-limited.

The International Energy Agency agreed on Wednesday to release 400 million barrels from the emergency reserves of several member states but it is not yet clear what impact that will have, nor how quickly this quantity of oil can be released.

Tehran has also been accused of directly attacking oil facilities in neighbouring countries this week. Iraq shut all its oil port operations on Thursday after explosive-laden Iranian “drone” boats appeared to have attacked two fuel tankers in Iraqi waters, setting them ablaze and killing one crew member.

A drone was filmed striking Oman’s Salalah oil port on Wednesday, although Tehran has denied involvement.

What are Iranian officials saying about ending the war?

There has been conflicting messaging from the Iranian leadership.

Iran’s elite army unit and parallel armed force, the Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps (IRGC), continues to show defiance, issuing threats and launching attacks on Israel and US military assets and infrastructure in neighbouring Gulf countries.

However, the political leadership has appeared more inclined towards diplomacy, analysts say. On Wednesday, President Pezeshkian said that ending the war would take the US and Israel recognising Iran’s rights, paying Iran reparations – although it’s unclear how much is being asked for – and providing strong guarantees that a future war will not be waged.

In a video recording last week, he also apologised to neighbouring countries for the strikes and promised that Iran would stop hitting its neighbours as long as they do not allow the US to launch attacks from their territory.

“I personally apologise to the neighbouring countries that were affected by Iran’s actions,” the president said, adding that Tehran was not looking for confrontations with its neighbours.

However, it is not known how much sway the political leadership has over the IRGC. Hours after the president’s apology last week, air defence sirens went off in Saudi Arabia, Qatar, the UAE and Bahrain, as strikes continued on the Gulf.

So, what is Iran’s actual position?

“Iran wants to go to the end to make sure that the United States and Israel never attack Iran again … so this has to be the final battle,” Al Jazeera’s Resul Serdar Atas explained.

Indeed, the IRGC sees this as an existential war, but the timing of Pezeshkian’s statement about ending the conflict also shows Tehran is pressured economically, politically and militarily, Zeidon Alkinani of Qatar’s Georgetown University told Al Jazeera.

“These differences and divisions [between IRGC and political leaders] always existed even prior to this war but we may notice it now more, given the fact that the IRGC believes that it has the right to take the front seat in leading this regional war, which is why a lot of the statements and positions are contradicting with the official ones from Pezeshkian,” he said.

The IRGC reports directly to Iran’s Supreme National Security Council (SNSC) and not to the country’s political leadership. That council is led by Ali Larijani, a top politician and close aide to the late supreme leader, Ali Khamenei, who analysts describe as a “hardliner”.

In a post on X on Tuesday, Larijani responded to threats from Trump about attacks on the Strait of Hormuz, saying: “Iranian people do not fear your hollow threats; for those greater than you have failed to erase it … So beware lest you be the ones to vanish.”

The newly elected supreme leader, Mojtaba Khamenei, was once in the IRGC and was put forward by the unit as the next ayatollah after his father was killed on the first day of the war, analysts say. He is thus not expected to follow the reformist, diplomatic ideals of President Pezeshkian and other political leaders which his father managed to marry with the IRGC militarised stance, they say.

What do the US and Israel say about ending the war?

There have also been conflicting messages from the Trump administration and Israel regarding when the war mission on Iran, codenamed Operation Epic Fury, is likely to end.

Trump told US publication Axios on Wednesday that the war on Iran would end “soon” because there’s “practically nothing left to target”.

“Anytime I want it to end, it will end,” he added. He had said earlier on Monday that “we’re way ahead of our schedule” and that the US had achieved its goals, even as speculation mounts about a possible US ground mission.

On the other hand, Israel’s Defence Minister Israel Katz said on Wednesday that the war would go on “without any time limit, for as long as necessary, until we achieve all the objectives and decisively win the campaign”.

Analysts say Trump’s stance that the conflict will be quick reflects increasing pressure on his administration ahead of upcoming mid-term elections in November.

Trump’s advisers privately told him this week to find a quick end to the war and avoid political backlash, according to reporting by The Wall Street Journal. That came as polls from Quinnipiac University and The Washington Post suggested that most Americans are opposed to the war in Iran.

In his 2024 presidential campaign, Trump promised to lower prices, and inflation had stabilised at 2.4 percent ahead of the war, according to government data released on Wednesday. Analysts speculate the conflict will likely push it back up.

The US spent more than $11.3bn in the first six days of the war, Pentagon officials told lawmakers in a classified briefing on Tuesday, Reuters reported this week – nearly $2bn a day.

The Washington-based think tank, Center for Strategic and International Studies (CSIS), estimated that the war cost Washington $3.7bn in its first 100 hours alone, or nearly $900m a day, largely due to its expenditure on costly munitions.

“It’s quite ironic that [Trump] chose a war that would make affordability worse, not better,” Rebecca Christie, a senior fellow at the Bruegel think tank, told Al Jazeera’s Counting the Cost.

“Every time the US loses even one object, air defence or a plane or something like that, that represents an awful lot of money that could have been used on some of these issues that have an impact on people’s day-to-day lives in the United States.”

Los Angeles has a secret magic to which you have to earn access, and the way you earn it is by making it, becoming a contributor to the city’s misapprehended culture of spectacle and soul, diversity and monolithic elitism. It’s a get-in-where-you-fit-in or get-edged-all-the-way-out kind of city, wherein a deceptively laissez-faire game of musical chairs can determine your fate. Kahlil Joseph has a private magic to which you have to earn access, and you earn it by resonating with the untapped nerve centers of Black culture that animate this city, and even then you might be denied.

Joseph is like the city (Los Angeles, not Hollywood), and the city enforces confidentiality, drive, wit, style and devotion often mistaken for diva-ism. The filmmaker and video artist moved to Los Angeles from Seattle for university, and was quickly followed by his brother, the painter Noah Davis, who would found the Underground Museum, a venue and near-speakeasy with West Coast casual gravitas and pan-African rigor and breadth, which became as important to the zeitgeist of Black Los Angeles as both brothers have.

Movie still from Kahlil Joseph’s film “Blknws: Terms & Conditions.” Funmilayo Akechukwu (Kaneza Schaal) channels a 93-year-old W.E.B Dubois, 200 years in the past.

(Courtesy Rich Spirit / BLKNWS©)

In somewhat rapid succession, Joseph lost his father, Keven Davis, an accomplished attorney who represented the likes of the Williams sisters and Wynton Marsalis, in 2012, and his brother Noah in 2015. Joseph navigated those years in the wake with unadorned reverence, while starting a family of his own and directing some of the most transcendent music videos of the 2010s. As testament to his resilience and that of the community around him, grief sharpened Joseph’s purpose and became a kind of grace he transmuted into moving images so saturated with feeling, sans easy pathos, they offered new ways of seeing. The stakes were higher and layered with the existential absurdity of abrupt shifts, which he carried with an elegant, slightly seething temperament that has found its expression in the work. It’s relevant that he shares a birthday with Miles Davis — this is Los Angeles, where it’s customary for a person to request your cosmic DNA before asking your name — and it’s relevant that like Miles, Joseph’s vocal tone is whisper-pitched, toward the mode of retreat that begets echo; you lean in and hear him twice. His quiet tone is not shyness or false modesty but circumspection and a sense of boundaries that imply respect and love for real communication. You sense this in his work ethic and what it produces, an intimacy of form that implies an almost ritualistic attentiveness to the world around him on its own terms. In the 2012 Flying Lotus music video “Until the Quiet Comes,” directed by Joseph and set in Los Angeles, death and rebirth are addressed as a duet, companions in the expansion of collective consciousness instead of foils or adversaries, as a fallen child leaves his body and returns more alive than before he was bloodied on screen. And the violent scenes aren’t grotesque or didactic — think of Miles’ muted trumpet sound reconfigured as resurrection visuals, of his ability to play and stage ballads so well that their uptempo momentum moves into territories too macabre to mute. Like Miles, Joseph tests and stretches his range.

With the closure of the family-run Underground Museum, first in 2020 and then officially in 2022, the path uptempo was visited by more obstacles and disappointments, a shift, if temporary, in Joseph’s role in the local community, as he became more private and distant from public elegy. On the phone recently, Joseph and I discussed the trauma economy, how much of a trap it is for Black art and artists, especially in this post-BLM, post-Obama, post-neoliberal dominance, post-nonprofit industrial complex dominance territory we’re all in now, whether we face it or not. As antidote and balm to the market for repackaged abjection, Joseph adapted the sensibility that makes his music video landscapes so lush and transgressive for the art world with “Blknws,” which debuted in 2019 as an imagined syndication or television network, a nonlinear merger of digitized Black archival material pulled from the center to the margins and the radical academic avant-garde — an infinitely looping ensemble wherein Fred Moten enters into conversation with memes of ghetto-fabulous street gymnasts doing backflips into a fried chicken spot, for example, collapsing so-called high and low into an endless woodshed for an impossible concert.

The result was so compelling that the project was commissioned by A24 as a feature film sans script, then purchased from them by Rich Spirit and released last year as “Blknws: Terms & Conditions.” In this longer and more structured form, what began as an intentional scattering of ashes becomes an elegiac letter home mediated by shipwreck. Joseph weaves together an imaginary “Transatlantic Biennial” and W.E.B. Dubois’ “Encyclopedia Africana” — a project that Henry Louis Gates Jr. and Kwame Anthony Appiah transformed into a book, which Joseph’s father had given his brother before they passed. In this way, the film becomes a manifesto for alternate destinies within the Black experience, and a semi-formal goodbye letter to the delusional but politically expedient optimism of the 2010s, wherein the end of the neoliberal order becomes a gateway to renewed self-possession and agency. Since our grief is less of a ready-made commodity lately, we can reorient it around ourselves, a little safer and more sovereign from the gnawing public gaze. And we can be more honest about its paces and paths in that more autonomous landscape. “Blknws” arrives how a successful jazz album does, belligerently inconclusive about the next stylistic leaps the music might make but clearly in the process of launching in that unknown or unspeakable (perhaps secret) direction. The film is agitation made vivid and precise in the dialectic between theorized “Black Study” and practical applications of Black marronage, where we realize that big disembodied ideas are no more sophisticated than what can be danced and gestured at and spoken in our real and virtual conversations. Here, the multiverse becomes one transcendental, transatlantic consciousness where past and present, life and afterlife, blur the way they do in Joseph’s interpretation of “Until The Quiet Comes” to give us a film with a song-like hook and an album’s non-sequitur whimsy.

Movie still from Kahlil Joseph’s film “Blknws: Terms & Conditions.” The underwater study of Funmilayo Akechukwu (Kaneza Schaal) located in the hold of the ship.

(Courtesy Rich Spirit / BLKNWS©)

Over the last several months, I’ve discussed with Joseph what might become of the momentum propelling “Blknws: Terms & Conditions,” after the film’s run, as speculators enclose searching for clues and stake in his next project. He’s considered its potential evolution into a media company, a real paper, a production house, a series of related films, or a hybrid of all of these endeavors. Alongside his experience on all sides of the art world, he has an acute awareness of the wayward state of print and digital culture, writing and production, the constant closure or downsizing of veteran media outlets, the aftermath of diversity fever in the form of shrinking major magazines often starting with those who cover culture explicitly, the mass turn toward brand-name digital platforms that become extractive monopolies and diminish what can be covered and produced as writers and artists are overworked, understaffed and undervalued. Galleries are also closing and downsizing, and films that don’t oblige the content farm aren’t solicited as readily as influencer-helmed or easily digestible projects that can be played as background noise for scrolling.

After a screening last December of “Blknws: Terms & Conditions” at 2220 Arts + Archives, a space I co-curate, the rapt audience of local cinephiles seemed eager for some magic-bullet insight into Joseph’s path to creative breakthrough and relative creative freedom. Rather than hacks and shortcuts, he shouted out collaborators and inspirations — Wales Bonner, who hand-stitched garments for the film’s Ghana-based scenes; British composer Klein, who helped score the film; Joseph’s time in Brazil, where his father was from and where he went to high school. Sensibility and natural eclecticism, rather than unchecked ambition, is what propels Joseph; he has an innate knack for assembling bands and ensembles, good taste and good timing.

Kahlil Joseph with friends at the screening of “Blknws: Terms & Conditions.”

“I found the encyclopedia at the Underground,” he explains, of the DuBois work that became central to “Blknws.” “It seemed no one had looked through it, as if my dad and brother left it for me in the future.” And instead of ruminating on the weight of that inheritance, he integrates it into his film, whose refrain-as-question is do you remember the future? As if his father and brother are awake in some scenes, asking him to remember. Another resurrection. “I just want to make films,” Joseph reaffirms as a personal coda when the questions get too meta or abstract, never conflating the material conditions of the craft with the magical thinking that can unfold in scripts and on screen. Most everyone in attendance at 2220 seemed to be there to meet or support one of their favorite artists, one of the devout purists of our time who manages to remain that without getting smug, lazy or feral, all common pitfalls.

Last October, I gave Joseph a copy of Hemingway’s “A Moveable Feast,” which I’d just finished reading myself for the first time. I was impressed to the point of restlessness with the authority of Hemingway’s memory, his recall; it’s one of those books you wanna throw at the wall and absorb word for word at the same time. Hemingway seemed to effortlessly savor and store every detail of his days, while remaining agile and present enough within them to focus on writing one true thing after another, in his daily sessions at the typewriter, as if possessing two coterminal minds and the capacity to access or silence both at will. A juggler too advanced for the circus, language’s great folk hero. Joseph is kind of like this, capable of intense simultaneous focus on both creative and mundane tasks without complaint, and he took to the book as I expected he might, sharing my sense of awe over the writer’s command of time and scene. They are both among the artists who have a polite way of making those around them feel like a team and want to work a little harder and little less aggressively (more communally) at the same time. Editors at his post-production studio have come from all over the country to work with him based on that leadership.

Joseph’s next feature, he suggests, will certainly be more narrative, more of a linear beginning-middle-end story, more Hemingway-esque in its commitments to the blunt daily reality that “Blknws” blurs with Black myth. He and his family have sacrificed unquantifiably in effort to defy stale archetypes and outdated patterns of art practice, and it might be his time or turn to be reciprocated for having endured those risks, time to give his family unequivocal and vivid afterlives on and off screen.

The Obama administration is finding some new political cover by invoking the Bush administration after Republican presidential hopefuls stepped up their attacks on the president’s announcement that the United States would withdraw its troops from Iraq by year’s end.

Relations between any presidential administration and its predecessor are never easy, especially when they represent different parties and sharply dissimilar philosophies as is the case between the presidencies of Barack Obama and George W. Bush. On the economic front, the Obama administration has long argued that the deep political hole it inherited from the Bush years has caused a big part of the president’s current woes.

In a briefing with reporters aboard Air Force One, White House Press Secretary Jay Carney cited the Bush administration as he fielded a question about the GOP response to the announced troop withdrawal from Iraq. It was Bush who launched the Iraq campaign when he called Iraq part of the axis of evil that threatened the United States and said it was linked to international terrorism and wanted to acquire weapons of mass destruction. Both claims were questioned by critics, especially after no such major weapons were recovered during the more than eight years of the U.S.-led war.

In a question, a reporter described the Republicans as accusing Obama as acting “based on political motivations and just sort of sheer ineptitude.” Carney fired back that the commitment to withdraw by the end of the year was part of an agreement “signed by the Iraqi government and the Bush administration.

“So in response to the criticism, I just have to ask, you know, what country are they living in? What planet are they living on,” Carney said of the Republicans.

“Because, again, this president has — from the very beginning when he ran for office, he made clear what he wanted to do in Iraq, which was end this war responsibly in a way that was in the best interests of the United States. He made clear from the beginning that he would keep the commitment made by the Bush administration with the sovereign Iraqi government to withdraw all U.S. forces by the end of 2011,” he said.

Lest anyone miss the connection, Carney later went back to the Bush administration a third time, wondering what the Republicans wanted.

“Are they suggesting that we violate an agreement that’s signed by the Bush administration with the sovereign government of Iraq? That we keep troops there without the consent and agreement of the Iraqi government?” Carney said.

michael.muskal@latimes.com