A ceasefire is not the end of the conflict. In this standoff between Iran and the United States, what has truly changed is not the battlefield situation, but the rewriting of the meaning of the "contract itself." This article begins with the 1988 Iranian ceasefire, tracing how Khomeini made a crucial shift between theology and reality, and applying this logic to the 2026 ceasefire decision, pointing to a deeper structural problem: when states are placed above rules, any agreement loses its binding force. The article argues that today's ceasefire is fragile not only because of a lack of trust between the two sides, but because this "untrustworthiness" itself has been solidified by their respective systems and historical paths. On the one hand, Iran retains the space for "withdrawing commitments if necessary" in its political theology; on the other hand, the United States, after withdrawing from the Iran nuclear deal (JCPOA) and turning to maximum pressure and military strikes, has also weakened its credibility as a party to the contract. Under such circumstances, the ceasefire is no longer a "path to peace," but rather a preserved form: it still exists, but lacks the moral and institutional foundation to support it. When both sides regard their own power as the ultimate reliance, is an agreement still possible? This, perhaps, is the crucial starting point for understanding this ceasefire. How is the logic of 1988 repeating itself today? Before accepting the 1988 ceasefire with Iraq, Ruhollah Khomeini, the founder of the Islamic Republic of Iran, reportedly considered resigning as Supreme Leader. Then-Speaker of Parliament Akbar Hashemi Rafsanjani proposed an alternative: he would unilaterally end the war, and Khomeini would then use that as grounds to imprison him. Two figures at the pinnacle of power in a theocratic state were forced to find a pretext for "retreat"—because their theological systems made concessions logically almost impossible. But reality forced them to back down. Khomeini did not accept this "political performance," but instead "drank the poison." On July 20, 1988, he announced the acceptance of the UN ceasefire. Subsequently, the government hastily sought religious legitimacy. Then-President Ali Khamenei invoked the Treaty of Hudebia—an agreement signed by the Prophet Muhammad in the 7th century with his enemies, which ultimately led to victory. As Mohammad Ayatollahi Tabaar documented in Religious Statecraft, Iranian commentators rejected the analogy in the days leading up to the ceasefire; but once it became “useful,” it was quickly used to “save the regime.”On April 8, 2026, Iran's Supreme National Security Council accepted a two-week ceasefire agreement with the United States, after forty days of fighting. The official statement called it a "major victory," stating that Iran had "forced the criminal United States to accept its ten-point proposal." One sentence is familiar to those who remember 1988: "It must be emphasized that this does not mean the end of the war." The new Supreme Leader, Mojtaba Khamenei, son of the one who invoked the Houdebia Treaty, personally ordered the ceasefire. At the same time, his council expressed "complete distrust of the United States." A conditional acceptance, a preserved revolutionary narrative. When the state is above contracts: all promises can be revoked. Suspicions of Iran potentially "breaching" the agreement are not unfounded. Such evidence can even be traced back to the regime's founder himself. On January 8, 1988, six months before the ceasefire, Khomeini made a statement. As Tabaar stated, this "is perhaps his most revealing and far-reaching statement": "The state, as part of the Prophet Muhammad's 'absolute rule,' is one of the most fundamental laws of Islam, superior to all secondary laws, even above prayer, fasting, and pilgrimage… When existing agreements conflict with the interests of the state and Islam as a whole, the state has the right to unilaterally revoke any legal agreement reached with the people." Herein lies the fact that the Islamic state is placed above prayer and fasting and given the power to revoke all agreements. Khomeini's early writings viewed the state as an instrument for realizing divine law, but this ruling reverses this relationship—the state itself becomes an end in itself, entitled to supersede the laws it is supposed to serve. This can be seen as the core theological logic of the regime, continuing to this day under "absolute guardianship" (Velayat-e Faqih, i.e., a system where the Supreme Leader possesses complete authority). Beneath the guise of a ceasefire, trust has vanished. Before Operation Midnight Hammer, before this forty-day war, before the ceasefire, the United States had already withdrawn from the Iran nuclear deal (JCPOA). Under the agreement, Iran significantly reduced its highly enriched uranium stockpile and accepted inspections by the International Atomic Energy Agency (IAEA) within the framework of the Additional Protocol. The IAEA has repeatedly confirmed Iran's compliance in its reports. The agreement does have flaws: some restrictions include sunset clauses, and the missile issue remains unresolved; from a prudent perspective, withdrawal is not without reason. However, the verification system itself is effectively functioning. Nevertheless, Washington still chose to withdraw.Regardless of how this decision is evaluated, its structural consequences are clear: the country now demanding Iran fulfill its obligations under the new agreement is the very one that previously withdrew from the old one. When subsequent diplomatic efforts failed to yield results within the framework of the US's "maximum demands," the answer became escalation of conflict. June 2025: Seven B-2 bombers, 14 bunker buster bombs, and 75 precision-guided weapons struck three nuclear facilities. Officially described as "a spectacular military success." However, the Defense Intelligence Agency assessed that these strikes only "set back" Iran's nuclear program by "months." Now, the IAEA "cannot provide any information on the size, composition, or location of Iran's highly enriched uranium stockpile." Iran has completely suspended cooperation. But the withdrawal from the agreement, the imposition of sanctions, and the military strikes—it was the very party now demanding a new agreement that initiated this chain reaction. An unwise leader might misjudge; a structural approach, however, repeats the same logic at every decision point: withdraw from the agreement, impose maximum pressure sanctions, bomb facilities, and then demand that a country that has just been proven "untrustworthy" renegotiate the agreement. This consistency reveals a belief: that American military power can achieve an order that should be maintained by moral structures. Khomeini's decrees placed Islamic states above prayer and fasting; while America's pattern of behavior places military superiority above contracts. Both are essentially the same: both are "idolatry" that treats limited power as the ultimate foundation. It is here that these two forms of "idolatry" converge: the United States can no longer demand a trust it has itself destroyed; Iran can no longer offer a promise that its own system retains the right of rescission. Identifying the common patterns in both countries means using these judgment tools sequentially: first identify one's own "idolatry," then judge the other. This tradition, known as "the discipline of repentance," has clear practical forms: whether in church, at the dinner table, or in group chats flooded with news, discussions about this ceasefire should begin with "acknowledgment"—withdrawing from the JCPOA requires the party to the new agreement to first break the agreement; "Operation Midnight Hammer" embodies the belief that order can be established if destruction is thorough enough; forty days of war, 1,665 civilian deaths, 170 children killed in a single school attack, and the starting point of the conflict—the uranium enrichment issue—remains unresolved. Before pointing out the problems in Tehran, acknowledge these facts. This ceasefire is essentially a wasteland. It may also be the only negotiating table still standing.The tradition of just wars genuinely prioritizes peace, meaning people must participate in this hollowed-out arrangement, rather than simply abandon it. Augustine defined peace as "the tranquility of order." The current reality is a two-week, Pakistan-mediated suspension: no common text, no effective verification, and both sides offering conflicting interpretations of the agreement. Ruins can be repaired, but only if they are not mistaken for a cathedral. [BlockBeat]