The State Department told American citizens in Iran to "leave Iran now," issuing the notice late Thursday as Washington and Tehran prepared for their first indirect talks over Iran's nuclear program. The warning came through the virtual US Embassy to Iran, advising Americans to have a departure plan "that does not rely on US government help" and to "keep a low profile, and stay aware of your surroundings" if unable to leave the country.
The next morning, those talks began in Muscat, Oman.
The timing is not coincidental. It is, in fact, the point. When the United States sits down — even indirectly — with a regime that has spent decades pursuing nuclear weapons, the backdrop matters. And the backdrop here is an American aircraft carrier in the Middle East, three bombed nuclear sites, and a president who told NBC News on Wednesday that Iran's Supreme Leader Ayatollah Ali Khamenei should be "very worried."
The Oman talks mark a notable shift in how the United States approaches Tehran. President Trump's special envoy Steve Witkoff led the American side, joined by Jared Kushner and — in what has been described as a departure from past talks — Adm. Brad Cooper, head of the US military's Central Command. The presence of CENTCOM's commanding officer at a diplomatic table sends a message that no press release needs to spell out.
The Post reports that Iran's Foreign Minister Abbas Araghchi participated on Tehran's side. Oman's Foreign Minister Sayyid Badr bin Hamad Al Busaidi hosted the session. Oman's Foreign Ministry confirmed the initial round of indirect talks and released a measured statement:
"The consultations focused on preparing the appropriate circumstances for resuming the diplomatic and technical negotiations by ensuring the importance of these negotiations, in light of the parties' determination to ensure their success in achieving sustainable security and stability."
Diplomatic boilerplate, to be sure. But the fact that it was issued at all suggests both sides see enough reason to keep talking. No readout from the US or Iran was immediately available.
Contrast these talks with every prior round of US-Iran nuclear negotiations. The Obama era produced the JCPOA — a deal that shipped pallets of cash to Tehran and trusted the regime to self-report compliance. The Biden years saw halfhearted attempts to revive that framework while Iran accelerated enrichment. In both cases, the American posture was one of managed anxiety: desperate enough for a deal that Tehran could sense it.
This is something different. The US bombed three Iranian nuclear sites in June 2025. The USS Abraham Lincoln is stationed in the Middle East. And the president, in his NBC News interview Wednesday, dispensed with diplomatic ambiguity entirely when asked about Khamenei:
"I would say he should be very worried."
When pressed, he continued:
"Yeah, he should be. As you know, they're negotiating with us."
Trump also referenced reports that Iran is attempting to restart its atomic weapons program, saying simply:
"I heard"
— and added that he would have to order US bombers to "do their job again" if that were the case.
This is not bluster. The bombers already did the job once. The carrier is already there. The CENTCOM commander is already at the table. Every element of American leverage is visible, tangible, and recent. Tehran knows the difference between a threat and a capability. Right now, it is staring at both.
The regime comes to these talks from a position of extraordinary weakness — and not just militarily. Early last month, widespread demonstrations erupted across Iran. The regime suppressed them, killing thousands of protesters as the nation's economy deteriorated. The United States began advising citizens to leave Iran during that period, well before Thursday's more urgent warning.
Consider what Khamenei faces simultaneously:
This is the definition of negotiating from weakness. The question is whether Tehran's leadership is rational enough to recognize it, or ideological enough to miscalculate anyway.
Oman has long served as a quiet diplomatic channel between Washington and Tehran. The choice of Muscat signals continuity in that back-channel tradition. The indirect format — with Omani intermediaries facilitating communication rather than the two sides meeting face-to-face — allows both governments to engage without the political cost of formal direct talks.
For Iran, sitting directly across from an American envoy flanked by the head of CENTCOM would be a domestic humiliation the regime cannot afford, especially weeks after killing its own citizens in the streets. For Washington, the indirect format costs nothing strategically. The message arrives whether it's delivered across a table or through a hallway.
The Oman round appears to be a preliminary step — Oman's own statement frames it as "preparing the appropriate circumstances for resuming the diplomatic and technical negotiations." Translation: this was the talk about the talks. The substance comes later, if it comes at all.
But the architecture matters. Witkoff, Kushner, and Cooper now have a direct read on Iran's posture, its flexibility, and its desperation. Tehran, in turn, has been reminded — through the physical presence of a four-star combatant commander — that the alternative to negotiation is not a return to the status quo. It is ean scalation. The State Department's travel warning underscores that the administration is preparing for multiple outcomes. Telling Americans to leave Iran now, with instructions not to rely on government assistance, is the kind of precaution you take when the diplomatic window could close quickly.
The last time a president tried to negotiate Iran's nuclear program from a position of strength, critics called it reckless. Then, three nuclear sites were destroyed, and Tehran came to the table. The regime did not negotiate because it wanted to. It negotiated because it had to. That dynamic holds today. And the Americans still in Iran would be wise to listen to their own government — and get out while they can.
