Iran’s leadership faces a delicate PR exercise. They’ve just secured an emerging memorandum of understanding with the United States, and they need the Iranian public to see it as a win. The problem? That’s a tough sell.
According to BBC reporting, senior Iranian officials have been working overtime to frame the deal as the result of resistance and victory rather than necessity. Speaker of parliament Mohammad Bagher Qalibaf, a figure not associated with President Pezeshkian’s moderate camp, called it “a long step towards final victory.” Pezeshkian himself has suggested the understanding could resolve many of Iran’s problems and create “a different world” in Iran and the Middle East.
But walk through the streets of Tehran, and the narrative starts to crack.
The country has just emerged from a damaging war. The economy is gasping under severe pressure from sanctions, restrictions on shipping, reduced access to oil markets, and running inflation that has hollowed out household budgets. Ordinary families aren’t worrying about whether the deal sounds like victory. They’re asking whether it lowers prices and reduces their fear of another round of fighting.
Here’s what makes the victory narrative particularly awkward: parts of the Islamic Republic’s own support base have spent months denouncing any compromise with Washington. Hard-line MPs have called the draft deal a document that would turn Iran into an American colony. They’ve accused negotiators of ignoring Supreme Leader directives. This isn’t opposition from outside the system. It’s coming from within parliament’s National Security Committee, one of the institutions meant to oversee national security.
The irony is rich. For months, hard-line voices in parliament and state-aligned media argued the US couldn’t be trusted, pointing out that diplomacy was taking place even as the war began. They saw negotiations as cover while Israel and the US prepared military action. Now they’re being asked to accept a deal with that same Washington.
Some of these voices have gone quieter recently. That silence probably tells us more than any public statement. It suggests the decision to proceed came from the highest levels, that the center of power has calculated the cost of rejecting a deal exceeds the cost of absorbing hard-line anger.
The economy has been a ruthless teacher. The war, sanctions, and restricted oil access have all squeezed the country hard. US Vice-President JD Vance has indicated Iran could gain access to billions of dollars in sanctions relief if it fulfills commitments, which lets Tehran pitch the deal as a path to investment and reconstruction rather than American charity.
But let’s be clear about what’s actually on the table. The memorandum’s details haven’t been fully published. Negotiations are expected to begin in Switzerland on Friday. The hardest issues still loom: the future of Iran’s enriched uranium, enrichment levels, verification protocols, sanctions relief, the Strait of Hormuz, and Lebanon’s role in the framework.
And then there’s Israel. Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu has already rejected reports that Israel will withdraw from southern Lebanon, stating Israeli forces will remain for as long as necessary. Donald Trump has publicly criticized Israeli conduct in Lebanon, expressing unhappiness with a Beirut strike shortly before the Iran-US deal was reached, though he insists his relationship with Netanyahu remains excellent.
This friction between Washington and Israel is genuinely useful for Tehran. It can point to visible disagreements as evidence that Iranian pressure has complicated Israel’s freedom of action. But it also makes the whole arrangement fragile. If Israel continues operations in Lebanon, Iran faces pressure to respond. If Washington can’t restrain Tel Aviv, Tehran’s claim that Lebanon is covered by the memorandum gets tested very quickly.
The reaction from BBC Persian’s audience reveals how unevenly the official victory narrative is landing. One listener said they remained very worried, had “no trust” in the deal, and feared the country wouldn’t be properly managed even if it held. Another anti-regime Iranian who initially supported US military action asked what the attack had actually achieved, since it didn’t lead to political change: “Our hope was that the ruling system would change. But apart from misery, inflation, and further damage to the economy, what benefit did it have for people?”
Not everyone was skeptical. Some audience members embraced the government line, with one calling Iran the winner and arguing the war showed sanctions are lifted not through begging but through the use of power. Another welcomed the agreement more cautiously, viewing it as temporary but necessary breathing room: “We needed a few months of calm.”
That pragmatism might be the most honest reading available. The Islamic Republic is selling the deal as victory because selling it as necessity would undermine the entire political mythology it’s built upon. Acknowledging weakness doesn’t play well in Tehran.
For most Iranians, success won’t be measured by slogans or parliamentary speeches. It’ll be measured by whether the war actually stops, whether prices ease at the supermarket, whether sanctions relief materializes in ways that matter, and whether the leadership can navigate the next phase without another sudden escalation that sends everyone back to the bunker.
The deal exists. The narrative is being built. But whether ordinary Iranians buy what Tehran is selling might matter more than anything written in the memorandum itself. The economy, after all, has a way of cutting through political spin.
