Welcome back to the theater of the absurd, where the script never changes, the actors just get grayer, and the audience is perpetually stuck in the lobby waiting for a show that’s been 'delayed' since the late seventies. Today’s performance features Esmaeil Baghaei, the latest spokesperson for Iran’s Foreign Ministry, who has bravely stepped up to the podium to announce that—wait for it—one-sided negotiations don’t work.

Stop the presses. We’ve got a real Socrates over here.

Baghaei is currently playing the lead in a geopolitical drama titled 'It’s Not Us, It’s You.' His latest grievance is that negotiations require two parties to actually, you know, negotiate. It’s the kind of profound realization you usually find at the bottom of a cheap bottle of scotch or in a freshman political science seminar. He’s essentially complaining that the other side isn't playing fair, which is the diplomatic equivalent of a toddler crying because his brother won't let him win at Monopoly.

Let’s look past the carefully tailored suit and the sterile backdrop of the Ministry. What we’re seeing here is the standard rhythmic breathing of international relations. Iran says they’re ready to talk, provided everyone else stops being mean to them. The West says they’re ready to talk, provided Iran stops doing the things that make everyone mean to them. It’s a circular firing squad where everyone is waiting for someone else to drop their gun first, while simultaneously reaching for more ammo.

Baghaei’s 'one-sided' comment is a masterclass in performative victimhood. It’s designed to look reasonable on a teleprompter while offering absolutely zero path forward. It’s a placeholder. It’s the 'elevator music' of foreign policy—it fills the silence so we don't have to confront the fact that nobody is actually moving.

The reality is that negotiations aren't about 'results' anymore; they’re about the *process* of looking like you want results. As long as Baghaei can stand there and blame the lack of progress on 'one-sidedness,' he doesn't have to explain why the centrifuge is still spinning or why the sanctions are still stinging. It’s a comfortable stalemate, a cozy little purgatory where everyone gets to keep their jobs, their grievances, and their dignity, while the rest of the world continues to wonder if the adults are ever going to actually sit down at the table or if they're just going to keep arguing about the shape of it.