Can Egypt really stop Israel from attacking Iran again?

The telephone lines out of Cairo have been humming. In a series of carefully choreographed calls, Badr Abdelatty, Egypt’s foreign minister, has been shuttling between his Iranian counterpart, Abbas Araghchi, America’s Middle East Envoy, Steve Witkoff, and the head of the U.N.’s nuclear watchdog, all in a bid to pull Iran, America, and Israel back from the brink.

Just months ago, Cairo’s influence was at a low-point, overshadowed by the oil-fuelled wealth of the Gulf states. While President Donald Trump was brokering mega-deals in the gilded boardrooms of Riyadh and Abu Dhabi, America's ties with its old ally Egypt had become decidedly awkward. The relationship grew so strained that President Abdel Fattah al-Sisi pointedly declined an invitation to the White House. The sticking point was Trump's audacious plan to permanently resettle Gaza’s more than 2 million Palestinians, turning the war-ravaged strip into a "Riviera of the Middle East."

But on the back of a torturous, yet ultimately successful, mediation that produced a fragile ceasefire in Gaza, Egypt has arguably re-emerged as the region’s essential interlocutor. Having co-hosted the Sharm el-Sheikh peace summit with Trump and being tapped to lead a planned global stabilization force in Gaza, Sisi is enjoying a diplomatic comeback. Even Israel's opposition leader, Yair Lapid, now sees Cairo as the linchpin, stating, “What Gaza needs is Egyptian control.”

Now, Cairo is attempting a far more audacious feat: bridging the chasm between Washington, its Israeli ally, and Tehran. The task is gargantuan. The 12-day war in June, which saw American and Israeli bombers strike Iranian nuclear and military sites, left diplomacy in tatters. This has not stopped Trump, fresh from his Gaza triumph, from casting his eye towards a bigger prize. In a speech to the Israeli Knesset, he mused, "you know what would be great? if we made a peace deal with them [Iran]... Wouldn’t it be nice?"

This deal-making optimism is radiating from the White House. "Doing a peace deal is becoming infectious," enthused Witkoff, in a recent interview. He hinted at a broader diplomatic offensive, adding, "we're getting calls from the Iranians. We're there to, you know, hopefully have a long-term diplomatic solution with Iran."

From Tehran, the response has been predictably frosty. Having snubbed an invitation to the Sharm el-Sheikh summit, Supreme Leader Ayatollah Ali Khamenei scoffed at Trump’s claim to have destroyed Iran’s nuclear program, telling him to “keep dreaming!” He dismissed the American president’s overtures, stating, "if a deal is accompanied by coercion and its outcome is predetermined, it is not a deal but rather an imposition and bullying." To underscore the point, Tehran has since unveiled a restored missile arsenal, signalling preparation for a renewed round of fighting with Israel.

Yet it is precisely in this turbulent environment that Egypt is carving out a unique role. Its leverage stems from a mix of renewed relationships, proven results, and enduring partnerships.

First is its quiet, pragmatic rapprochement with Iran. After four decades of frozen relations, a convergence of crises and opportunities is forcing a strategic rethink in Cairo. The most pressing driver is economic. Houthi attacks in the Red Sea, backed by Iran, have savaged revenues from the Suez Canal, a vital economic artery. This has compelled Cairo to engage Tehran directly, which, though it denies direct control, is widely seen as holding the Houthis' leash. Moreover, China's brokering of a Saudi-Iranian détente in 2023 dismantled the rigid anti-Tehran bloc led by the Gulf states, giving Cairo the diplomatic freedom it needed to act without alienating its financial patrons.

Second, and most critically, Egypt has already delivered a tangible result. On September 9, it brokered a framework agreement between Iran and the International Atomic Energy Agency (IAEA), restoring the inspections regime that had collapsed after the June war with Israel. This diplomatic achievement came when Western diplomacy was at a dead end. It proved Cairo could handle the technical, trust-based work that grandstanding politicians often cannot, positioning itself as the credible go-between for a mistrustful West and a cornered Iran. Abdelatty’s continued talks with IAEA head Rafael Grossi, Iran’s Abbas Araghchi, and Witkoff aim to build on this small but vital breakthrough.

Egypt’s third asset is the institutional depth of its partnership with the West. Its peace treaty with Israel is the bedrock of the regional security order, and it remains a key recipient of American military aid. Unlike Qatar, viewed as a patron of Hamas, or Turkey, whose President Erdoğan remains an unpredictable Islamist voice, Egypt is seen in Jerusalem and Washington as a reliable, if sometimes difficult, security stalwart. It can speak to Israel’s generals and American diplomats with a familiarity that Tehran’s other potential interlocutors cannot match.

But this diplomatic opening should be seen not as a prelude to comprehensive peace. The obstacles are monumental, rooted in the internal politics of all three protagonists. The Islamic Republic, though weakened and its "Axis of Resistance" fractured by setbacks in Syria and Lebanon, is not a monolith seeking an exit ramp.

Indeed, Ayatollah Khamenei’s recent dismissal of American overtures as "coercion" is the public validation of the Islamic Republic’s worldview, for whom a deal with America or Israel, especially after a violation of its sovereignty, would be to negate the very revolutionary principles on which its legitimacy rests.

Meanwhile, the Trump administration’s talk of deals rings hollow when set against its actions. While containment of Iran's nuclear program remains the stated policy, its participation in strikes on Iranian soil and its rhetoric suggesting regime change have shredded its credibility as a negotiator. From the Iranians’ vantage point, there is little sense in negotiating with a counterpart who seems to prefer bunker-busters to diplomatic breakthroughs.

For Israel, the perception of victory after the June war has not translated into a desire for diplomacy. Its prime minister and security establishment appear committed to their doctrine of “mowing the grass” — a strategy of continuous, pre-emptive military action to degrade adversaries' capabilities.

Having already degraded Iran’s air defences and established aerial freedom, the view from Tel Aviv is that now is the time to press this advantage, not concede it at a negotiating table. This fundamentally clashes with the more recent American desire for a definitive "deal" to end the conflict.

This mismatch between the allies presents a difficult obstacle for any mediator. Another pre-emptive Israeli strike could undo Egypt’s delicate diplomacy in an instant.

Though a grand peace triangle between America, Israel, and Iran remains elusive, what is possible is a less ambitious but more vital role for Egypt as the region’s de-escalation manager. Cairo cannot dismantle Iran’s nuclear ambitions or solve the foundational enmity between Iran and Israel. But it can keep channels open, broker technical agreements that build confidence, and act as a fire-brigade when sparks fly, as they inevitably will.