Iran–United States relations during the first Trump administration
Based on Wikipedia: Iran–United States relations during the first Trump administration
On January 27, 2017, a father holding a US visa stood at the arrivals desk of Dulles International Airport, only to be told that the paper in his hand was now worthless because he held an Iranian passport. He was not a terrorist; he was a doctor, a student, or perhaps a tourist returning home to a family waiting in Virginia. Yet, under the executive order titled "Protecting the Nation From Foreign Terrorist Entry Into the United States," his nationality alone rendered him a threat. This moment, occurring just days after Donald Trump took the oath of office, signaled the end of the cautious, if fragile, diplomacy that had defined the previous four years. It was the opening shot of a four-year campaign that would dismantle the nuclear deal, isolate Iran economically, and bring the United States and Iran to the precipice of a direct war that nearly consumed the Middle East.
To understand the magnitude of this shift, one must look at the landscape of early 2017. The world was still reeling from the 2015 Joint Comprehensive Plan of Action (JCPOA), the landmark nuclear agreement brokered by the Obama administration. Under the deal, Iran had agreed to limit its uranium enrichment and submit to rigorous international inspections in exchange for the lifting of crippling economic sanctions. At the helm of Iran was President Hassan Rouhani, a centrist cleric who had staked his political capital on the promise that engagement with the West could bring prosperity to his people. He saw the deal as a bridge, a way to reintegrate Iran into the global economy after decades of pariah status. But the ultimate authority in Tehran did not rest with the president. Supreme Leader Ali Khamenei, the hardline architect of the Islamic Revolution, held the real power over foreign and security policy. While Rouhani navigated the delicate waters of diplomacy, Khamenei watched with deep suspicion, knowing that the American political system was volatile and that promises made by one administration could be broken by the next.
That suspicion was about to be confirmed with brutal efficiency.
During his presidential campaign, Trump had made no secret of his disdain for the JCPOA. He called it "terrible," a "disaster" negotiated "from desperation." He warned that the deal would lead to a "nuclear holocaust" and declared his "number-one priority" to be its dismantling. He viewed Iran not as a partner in non-proliferation but as the "dominant Islamic power in the Middle East" on a fast track to nuclear weapons. Once in office, this rhetoric was not merely campaign fluff; it was the blueprint for a new doctrine. The administration's first major move was the travel ban, which immediately barred Iranian citizens from entering the United States. The order was sweeping: it blocked passport holders, required passengers to ensure their passports bore no Iranian entry stamps, and effectively severed the last remaining threads of people-to-people contact. No direct flights connected the two nations, and the ban ensured that no Iranian aircraft could ever touch American soil. It was a psychological wall, built before a single new sanction was written.
The tension escalated almost immediately. On January 29, 2017, just days after the inauguration, Iran tested a ballistic missile. To the Trump administration, this was not a defensive maneuver but a provocation. The White House put Iran "on notice," and within days, sanctions were slapped on 25 Iranian individuals and companies linked to the missile program. These were described as "initial steps," a warning that the era of certification was ending. The administration began to weave a new geopolitical tapestry, strengthening an informal coalition with Saudi Arabia, Israel, the United Arab Emirates, and other Sunni Gulf states. The goal was clear: surround Iran, contain its influence, and prepare the ground for a new, more aggressive strategy.
In the digital realm, the war began in earnest. Between January and July 2017, Twitter identified and shut down over 7,000 accounts linked to Iranian influence operations. It was a shadow war, fought in code and algorithms, aimed at destabilizing Iran's internal cohesion. Simultaneously, the Trump administration worked behind the scenes to undermine the JCPOA. In May 2017, Trump personally lobbied dozens of European officials at a summit in Brussels, urging them to do business with Iran. This direct interference in trade relations was widely seen as a violation of the JCPOA's terms, which prohibited policies specifically intended to adversely affect Iran's normalization of trade. Yet, despite this pressure, the administration continued to certify Iran's compliance with the nuclear deal in April and July 2017, a bureaucratic necessity that allowed the deal to remain technically intact while the administration worked to kill it.
The turning point came with the passage of the Countering America's Adversaries Through Sanctions Act (CAATSA) in July 2017. This legislation grouped sanctions against Iran, Russia, and North Korea, sending a unified message of hostility. When Iranian Deputy Foreign Minister Abbas Araqchi stated in August that Iran viewed the deal as already violated due to these new sanctions, the diplomatic rift was becoming a chasm. The exchange of insults between President Trump and Supreme Leader Khamenei at the UN General Assembly in September 2017 was not just theatrical; it was a public declaration that the era of negotiation was over. Trump called the Iranian leadership a "mad dog," while Khamenei warned that the US would face consequences for its aggression.
Then, the dam broke.
In May 2018, Donald Trump announced the United States' withdrawal from the JCPOA. It was a unilateral decision that shattered the consensus of the international community. Europe, Russia, and China remained committed to the deal, but the US, under the banner of the "maximum pressure campaign," moved to reimpose all economic sanctions that had been lifted in 2015, effective November 4, 2018. The administration's goal was not just to limit Iran's nuclear program but to force a renegotiation that included restrictions on its ballistic missiles and its regional activities. They believed that by strangling Iran's economy, they could force Tehran to the negotiating table on American terms.
The human cost of this strategy was immediate and devastating. Over 1,500 sanctions were imposed, targeting Iran's financial sector, its oil exports, and its shipping industry. Foreign firms that did business with Iran were threatened with secondary sanctions, effectively cutting the country off from the global banking system. The price of oil soared, but the benefit did not go to the Iranian people; instead, the economy contracted, inflation skyrocketed, and the middle class was decimated. The strategy aimed to isolate Iran, but it also left Washington diplomatically isolated. Even traditional US allies in Europe struggled to find a way to continue trade with Iran without violating US law. The "maximum pressure" campaign was a success in its ability to inflict pain, but it failed to achieve its political objective: Iran did not cave.
Instead, Iran hardened its resolve. President Rouhani warned that if the US reimposed oil sanctions, Iran would begin "industrial enrichment without any limitations." In July 2018, Iran threatened to close the Strait of Hormuz, the critical chokepoint through which a fifth of the world's oil passes. The rhetoric was dangerous, but the actions were even more volatile. In late July, a Saudi-flagged tanker transporting two million barrels of oil was struck in the Bab-el-Mandeb strait. While the Houthis in Yemen, backed by Iran, were blamed, the incident paralyzed Saudi oil shipments and sent shockwaves through the global economy. The atmosphere in the region became thick with the anticipation of war.
The Trump administration was not idle. Reports emerged that the US was conducting a program to foment various opposition groups within Iran, hoping to spark a revolution from within. But the Supreme Leader was unmoved. On August 13, 2018, Khamenei issued a fatwa banning direct talks with the United States. "There will be no war, nor will we negotiate with the US," he declared. "Even if we ever—impossible as it is—negotiated with the US, it would never ever be with the current US administration." He accused the Americans of reneging on bargains and never budging on their primary goals. The diplomatic channel was now officially closed.
In October 2018, the US Secretary of State Mike Pompeo formed the Iran Action Group, a dedicated task force to coordinate the administration's policy toward Iran. By November, all sanctions removed in 2015 were re-imposed. The economy began to crumble. The International Community watched in horror as the pressure campaign took its toll on ordinary Iranians, who faced shortages of medicine and food. The administration argued that this pain was necessary to bring about change, but the reality on the ground was one of desperation.
The tension reached a fever pitch in 2019. U.S. intelligence reports warned of Iranian threats, followed by attacks on oil tankers in the Gulf of Oman. In June, a US drone was shot down by Iran over the Strait of Hormuz. Trump ordered retaliatory strikes, but at the last moment, he called them off, citing the risk of 150 Iranian casualties. Instead, the US launched cyberattacks and imposed additional sanctions. It was a moment of restraint, but it did not de-escalate the situation. The rhetoric intensified, with both sides trading threats of war. Suspected Iranian strikes on Saudi oil facilities in September 2019 further heightened the fears of a regional conflagration.
The crisis deepened in December 2019. A rocket attack on the K-1 Air Base in Iraq killed a US contractor and wounded several others. The US responded with airstrikes on Iranian-backed militias, killing dozens. The violence spiraled as protesters, incited by Iranian-backed groups, stormed the US embassy in Baghdad, setting fires and occupying the compound. The diplomatic mission was breached, a rare and humiliating event for the United States.
Then came the strike that changed everything.
On January 3, 2020, a US drone strike at Baghdad International Airport targeted a convoy carrying Major General Qasem Soleimani, the commander of Iran's Quds Force. Soleimani was one of the most powerful men in the Middle East, a figure who had built a vast network of influence across the region. He was not a terrorist in the eyes of the Iranian state, but a national hero. He was killed instantly, along with Abu Mahdi al-Muhandis, the deputy commander of the Iraqi Popular Mobilization Forces. The US government claimed the strike was necessary to prevent an imminent attack on American lives, but the act of assassinating a foreign general on foreign soil was an unprecedented escalation. It was a declaration of war by other means.
The human cost of this decision was immediate and profound. The streets of Tehran erupted in mourning, but also in rage. The Iranian government vowed revenge. On January 8, 2020, Iran launched a ballistic missile attack on two US bases in Iraq, Ain al-Asad and Erbil. The missiles struck with terrifying precision, but the administration claimed there were no casualties. This claim would later be contested. In reality, over 100 US service members suffered from traumatic brain injuries due to the blast waves, a silent wound that would haunt them for years. The administration's narrative of a clean, surgical strike was shattered by the reality of the aftermath: soldiers with no visible injuries but with their lives altered forever.
The crisis did not end there. In a tragic twist of fate, shortly after the missile attack, Iranian air defense forces, operating in a heightened state of alert and fearing a US retaliation, accidentally shot down a Ukrainian passenger airliner, Flight PS752. All 176 people on board were killed. Men, women, and children, returning from a visit to Tehran, were torn from the sky by a missile meant for a phantom American threat. The families of the victims were left with nothing but grief and the knowledge that their loved ones were collateral damage in a game of geopolitical brinkmanship. The US, which had been accused of bringing the region to the brink of war, was now complicit in a tragedy that claimed innocent lives, a stark reminder of the human cost of the maximum pressure campaign.
The months that followed were a blur of threats and counter-threats. In early 2020, Iran blamed US sanctions for limiting its ability to respond to the COVID-19 pandemic. The virus swept through the country, and the sanctions made it nearly impossible to import medical supplies and food. The death toll climbed, and the Iranian people suffered under a double siege: the virus and the economic strangulation. Meanwhile, Iran launched a military satellite, a demonstration of its technological prowess despite the sanctions. The US accused Iran of interfering in the 2020 presidential election and launching proxy attacks on its interests.
The administration's strategy had achieved a singular goal: it had made Iran's life unbearable. But it had failed to change Iran's behavior. The nuclear deal was dead, the diplomatic channels were severed, and the region was more unstable than ever. The human cost was measured not just in the lives lost in missile strikes or the plane crash, but in the millions of Iranians who lost their livelihoods, their health, and their hope for a better future. The "maximum pressure" campaign had isolated Iran, but it had also isolated the United States from its allies and from the moral high ground.
By the end of Trump's term, the relationship between the two nations was at its lowest point in decades. The hostility was entrenched, the disputes unresolved, and the trust non-existent. The world watched, holding its breath, waiting to see if the next administration would pick up the pieces or continue the path toward war. The legacy of the first Trump administration was a landscape of scars, where the dreams of diplomacy had been replaced by the reality of sanctions, assassinations, and the ever-present threat of a conflict that could engulf the entire Middle East. The story of these four years is not just about policy shifts or geopolitical maneuvering; it is a story of human suffering, of families torn apart, and of a world that came dangerously close to the edge. The numbers—1,500 sanctions, 176 dead passengers, 100+ soldiers with brain injuries—are just statistics. The real story is in the silence of the empty chairs, the grief of the widows, and the uncertainty that hangs over a region that has seen too much blood.
The journey from the travel ban to the assassination of Soleimani was a descent into a dark valley. It began with a belief that pressure could force change, but it ended with the realization that pressure without a clear path to peace only creates more pain. The human cost of the first Trump administration's Iran policy is a testament to the fragility of peace and the ease with which it can be lost. As the world moves forward, the lessons of this period remain stark: that diplomacy is difficult, but the alternative is often far worse. The families in Tehran, Baghdad, and Washington still feel the ripple effects of those four years, a reminder that in the theater of great power politics, the smallest decisions can have the most devastating consequences for the ordinary people who live in the shadow of the powerful.