Rackets of a coming thunder by Marja Heikkinen

When the news broke in that Israel and Iran had agreed to end their most recent spate of skirmishes, the world exhaled, not in relief, but in hesitation. The ceasefire came with headlines screaming "Historic Breakthrough" and "Hope in the Middle East," but beneath the fanfare, a quieter and more sobering truth brewed: this was no peace. This was an exhausted pause, a strategic inhale before the plunge and quite possibly the calm before the storm.

Let’s not be fooled by Donald Trump’s True media posts. Ceasefires are often dressed up in the tailor-made suits of peace treaties, but scratch the surface and you’ll find the same old suspicions, the same proxy-fueled ambitions, and the same combustible mix of ideology, politics, and oil-soaked interests.

Israel and Iran didn’t suddenly discover common ground. They discovered fatigue. Iran's economy, teetering after years of sanctions and internal unrest, was in no condition to bankroll another proxy misadventure in Lebanon or Gaza. Israel, for its part, had its hands full with growing internal polarization and increasingly vocal dissent from Western allies weary of being dragged into the region’s tinderbox yet again.

This ceasefire was not the fruit of peace, but the result of logistical necessity. Like two boxers clinching after round nine, the pause came not from reconciliation, but from mutual exhaustion. No one waved white flags; they merely checked their watches and took stock of ammunition.

Middle Eastern peace talks are like Greek tragedies: full of drama, betrayal, gods with grudges, and always ending in blood.” This latest “peace” fits the mold. It’s diplomatic theatre with a lot of Trump on the top, in a play where the audience knows the ending but still buys the ticket.

What makes this ceasefire even more precarious is the international context. The global chessboard in 2025 is more chaotic than ever. Russia is still flexing with Ukraine. China’s shadow looms over Taiwan and the South China Sea. NATO is stretched thin and politically fractured. The United States oscillates between interventionist impulses, MAGA practises and isolationist shrugs.

Into this global cacophony enters the Israel-Iran equation, not as a resolved variable, but as an unstable isotope. One bad move, one misinterpreted signal, one overzealous general on either side and the current calm could disintegrate into an international crisis with the gravitational pull to drag half the globe into its vortex.

Let’s remember: Iran and Israel have never been two players locked in a two-player game. Iran has Hezbollah, the Houthis, and a web of regional proxies. Israel has the United States, the shadowy but undeniable support of Gulf states, and an unmatched regional intelligence apparatus. A spark between these two doesn't light a match, it lights the whole room.

To call this a step toward peace is like calling a traffic jam a solution to speeding. Peace is not the absence of missiles; it’s the presence of trust. It requires open dialogue, mutual recognition, long-term security commitments, and yes, accountability for decades of bloodshed. None of these elements are currently on the table. What is on the table is strategic calculus and geopolitical chess. We must not confuse strategic restraint with moral awakening.

Iran hasn’t changed its rhetoric toward Israel. Its Supreme Leader didn’t wake up one morning with a newfound love for Zionism. Nor has Israel softened its stance toward Iran’s nuclear ambitions or its sprawling influence network. If anything, both sides have only grown more entrenched in their narratives, their military strategies increasingly entwined with cyber warfare and intelligence disruption.

If history teaches us anything, especially the weary history of Middle Eastern conflicts, it’s that real storms don’t announce themselves. They build slowly, imperceptibly, in the eyes of analysts who misread pauses as progress. The 1973 Yom Kippur War came after a similar “calm.” So did the 2006 Lebanon War. Even the Arab Spring was preceded by what many mistook for political stagnation, not pressure.

The thunderclouds are not just gathering, they’re already here. The real question is whether anyone is listening.