If and when a photograph is taken of US Vice President JD Vance standing next to Iran's Parliamentary Speaker Mohammad Bagher Ghalibaf in Islamabad this weekend, it will make history.

That moment would mark the highest-level face-to-face talks between the Islamic Republic of Iran and the United States of America since the 1979 Islamic Revolution shattered their strong strategic bond and cast a long shadow which still darkens relations to this day.

The two men may not smile. They may not even shake hands. It would not make this troubled relationship any more easy, any less hostile.

But it would send a signal that both sides want to try to end a war sending shocks worldwide, avoid an even riskier escalation, and turn to diplomacy to do a deal.

There's zero chance though of President Trump's optimistic prediction of a peace deal within this shaky two-week ceasefire; its terms were contested and broken since the moment it was announced earlier this week.

Even until the eleventh hour, Iranians kept everyone guessing over whether they would still show up while Israel was insisting there would be no ceasefire in Lebanon.

But if serious and sustained talks make a start, it would also mark the most significant push since Trump pulled out of the previous landmark nuclear deal in 2018, during his first term.

Those talks, in endless rounds stretching over nearly 18 months of breakthroughs and breakdowns, were the last high-level meetings between the US's then secretary of state John Kerry and Iran's then foreign minister Mohammad Javad Zarif.

Efforts since then, including during President Biden's term, made little headway.

The dispatch of more senior officials and high stakes of failure for all sides could open possibilities that weren't there before, assesses Ali Vaez of the International Crisis Group, who has followed all the twists and turns over many years.

But, he cautions, this time is still exponentially harder.

The gaps between the two sides remain very wide; the distrust runs very deep.

That well is especially vast for Tehran after their last two series of negotiations, in June 2025 and February this year, were suddenly whacked by the opening salvos of an Israeli-American war.

And, when they do talk, their negotiating styles are poles apart.

President Trump boasts he has the best dealmakers in his special envoy Steve Witkoff, a former property developer, and his son-in-law Jared Kushner, his go-to person during his first term, when the Abraham Accords normalized relations between Israel and a few Arab states while sidelining the Palestinians.

But Iran, which now views these envoys as too close to Israel, insisted on raising the level of engagement, specifically to the Vice President JD Vance.

Not only does he hold a formal position within the US administration, rather than being a friend or family member, he is also seen as the strongest skeptic of this military campaign in Trump's team.

Iran's approach has also imposed limitations, especially in its insistence that the negotiations mainly be conducted indirectly, through Oman, their trusted mediator.

The contrast with the negotiations a decade ago couldn't be starker. Now, as hostilities have shifted the security calculus for all sides, Iran may insist on keeping its arsenal of ballistic missiles for self-defense.

Meanwhile, Israel and Gulf states are pressing for broader negotiations that include their security concerns.

In these complex negotiations, history must be reckoned with as Iran's distrust and regional dynamics present formidable challenges.