Netanyahu's Iran Ride Is Over. Trump Has a New Passenger.

Benjamin Netanyahu built a political identity around confronting Iran. For years, his joint mantra with the Trump administration was simple: maximum pressure, no compromise, regime-change optional. That era is over — and not quietly.
The evidence is accumulating from multiple directions simultaneously. Trump's current approach to Tehran looks nothing like the administration's first-term playbook. Instead of coordinated sanctions offensives with Jerusalem, Washington is now conducting its own back-channel conversations, reportedly exploring terms that would leave Israel — and specifically Netanyahu — with no seat at the table. The Indian Express reported on 23 May 2026 that Netanyahu has been reduced from co-pilot to passenger in the US-Iran relationship, a demotion that reflects a fundamental realignment of American priorities in the region.
Iran's response has been swift and strategically calibrated. Mohammad Qalibaf, the speaker of Iran's Parliament and a key negotiator in the current talks, issued a warning that should concentrate minds in Washington: the second round of pressure on Iran, he said, would be "more crushing than the first day." That is negotiating language, not rhetoric. Qalibaf is telling the Trump team that Iran has learned from the previous maximum-pressure campaign and has prepared countermeasures. He is also signalling that Tehran believes it has leverage — because the current US posture suggests Washington wants a deal more than it wants continued confrontation.
What makes the picture more complex is the simultaneous engagement between Iran and Pakistan. On the same day the Qalibaf warnings emerged, Iran's Foreign Minister Abbas Araghchi held talks in Tehran with Pakistan's Army Chief General Asim Munir. LiveMint reported that the meeting focused on regional security and the broader West Asia conflict — language that signals both countries understand the US-Iran dynamic as part of a larger structural shift, not an isolated bilateral negotiation. Pakistan, a US ally with deep security ties to Washington, is sitting across the table from Iran while American diplomats pursue their own parallel track. That is not coincidence. It reflects a region where traditional alliance categories are dissolving.
The structural logic here is straightforward. The Trump administration, in its second term, appears to have made a calculation that a managed diplomatic settlement with Iran — one that freezes the nuclear programme in exchange for sanctions relief — serves American interests better than a continued confrontation posture. Israel disagrees. The Saudis, despite their own grievances with Tehran, have privately signalled a preference for stability over continued tension. The UAE and Bahrain have already moved toward normalisation with Iran. The Middle East is rearranging itself around a different set of assumptions, and the bloc that assumed permanent hostility as the only viable posture is being left behind.
Netanyahu's problem is not just that Trump changed his mind — it is that the geopolitical architecture he relied on has shifted beneath him. The Abraham Accords were supposed to create a new SunniIsraeli consensus against Iran. That coalition never became the institutional bloc its architects hoped for. Now, with direct US-Iran talks underway and Pakistan-Iran security dialogue running parallel, the framework is dissolving in real time. Israel finds itself with fewer levers, fewer partners willing to follow its lead, and a White House that has made clear it does not consider Jerusalem's preferences dispositive on this issue.
There is a legitimate counterargument worth sitting with. Perhaps Trump's approach is actually sophisticated — using the threat of continued pressure as a negotiating tool while delivering the substance of containment without the costs of military confrontation. Perhaps the sidelining of Israel is a feature, not a bug, of a strategy that needs to look like it is not taking orders from Jerusalem in order to maintain credibility with Tehran. If that is the case, Netanyahu's public complaints are not a sign of weakness but of successful exclusion — a deliberate engineering of his political irrelevance in the very arena he claimed as his own.
Even accepting that reading, the structural consequences remain significant. A US-Iran agreement — however crafted — will reshape the regional order in ways that go beyond nuclear compliance. It will affect Lebanese Hezbollah's operational space, Syrian reconstruction dynamics, Iraqi political economy, and the broader Gulf competition between Saudi Arabia and Iran for regional influence. Israel has spent two decades positioning itself as the indispensable ally in containing Iran. If that containment is being replaced by managed co-existence, Israel loses the strategic rationale that has underpinned its regional posture and its domestic political coalitions. That is not a foreign-policy problem. That is a political identity crisis.
The talks are ongoing. The parameters are not yet settled. Iran's negotiating team is signalling confidence; the Americans are signalling pragmatism; the Pakistanis are hedging their bets in both directions. What is clear is that the configuration has changed. The old playbook — maximum pressure, Israeli leadership, regional isolation of Iran — has been replaced by something messier and more fluid. Netanyahu can complain about being a passenger. The car, however, has already moved.