January 31, 2026
Middle East Monitor
Republic of Iran Navy naval drill “Force-99” at Sea of Oman on January 14, 2021 [IRANIAN ARMY/Anadolu Agency]
Iran plans to hold joint naval exercises with China and Russia in the northern Indian Ocean region in mid-February, Iranian media reported on Saturday amid elevated tensions with the US, Anadolu reports.
The semi-official Tasnim News Agency said the eighth edition of the joint drills, known as the “Maritime Security Belt,” will bring together naval units from the three countries.
The exercise will involve units from Iran’s regular navy and the naval forces of the Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps (IRGC), alongside naval forces from China and Russia, the report added.
The mid-February drills will be held in the northern Indian Ocean.
The “Maritime Security Belt” exercises were launched in 2019 at the initiative of Iran’s navy, Tasnim said. Seven previous editions of the joint drills have been held since then.
The drills come as tensions have escalated between Tehran and Washington in recent weeks, following US President Donald Trump’s statements that a “massive armada” was moving toward Iran, alongside his call for Tehran to “come to the table” for negotiations.
Iranian officials have warned that any US attack would draw a “swift and comprehensive” response while reiterating that Tehran remains open to talks only under what it describes as “fair, balanced, and noncoercive terms.”
Opinion
Washington’s bipartisan war on Iran did not begin with Gaza. Gaza exposed it
January 31, 2026
by Dr Asad Ullah
For decades, Washington has insisted that its hostility toward Iran is a response to Iranian “aggression,” “terrorism,” or the Islamic Republic’s supposed refusal to “behave like a normal state.” Yet the synchronized threats issued by both Donald Trump and Joe Biden in the aftermath of Gaza’s annihilation reveal a more uncomfortable truth. American policy toward Iran has little to do with Iranian actions and everything to do with preserving an Israeli‑centered regional order at any cost.
To understand this moment, one must begin with an inconvenient historical fact that the United States foreign policy establishment prefers to forget. The United States was not always Iran’s enemy and Iran was not always the problem.
Before the 1979 Islamic Revolution, Iran was one of Washington’s most reliable pillars in the Middle East. The Shah’s regime, installed and protected after the CIA‑backed overthrow of Prime Minister Mohammad Mossadegh in 1953, served American strategic interests faithfully. It purchased billions of dollars in American weapons, stabilized oil markets and acted as a regional gendarme against Arab nationalism and leftist movements. Repression, torture and political imprisonment were not obstacles to partnership. They were, in fact, quietly subsidized. A 1955 treaty of amity formalized this relationship of cooperation and mutual interest between Washington and Tehran.
Iran became an enemy not because it threatened the region, but because it defied American ownership. The Islamic Revolution shattered a core assumption of United States Middle East policy, namely that regional states exist to be managed, disciplined and aligned with American power. Iran’s crime was not extremism but autonomy. Its refusal to subordinate itself to Washington and later to normalize relations with Israel without conditions marked it for permanent punishment. By the end of 1979, diplomatic ties were severed and sustained sanctions were imposed.
From that point onward, United States policy toward Iran became doctrinal rather than strategic. Iran was transformed into an abstract villain, immune to evidence, negotiation or context. Even when Tehran cooperated, whether against the Taliban after the attacks of September 11, 2001, or through painstaking compliance with the 2015 nuclear deal, Washington responded with betrayal and recrimination.
The Joint Comprehensive Plan of Action, concluded between Iran and the P5+1 in 2015, constrained Iran’s nuclear program and opened it to strict inspections. Contrary to claims that Iran violated the deal, international tracking of its nuclear material showed Tehran compliant with the agreement’s terms. Yet in 2018 the United States withdrew unilaterally under President Trump and reimposed sanctions, rejecting the verification mechanisms that had worked and destabilizing the diplomatic architecture that had taken years to construct. The withdrawal was welcomed by Israeli hardliners who saw any détente with Tehran as an existential threat to their regional strategy.
Washington’s “maximum pressure” campaign since then has inflicted devastating economic pain on ordinary Iranian citizens while providing little leverage toward genuine diplomacy. It has strengthened hardliners and eroded incentives for moderation. Sanctions that were supposed to bring Tehran to heel have instead reinforced narratives of resistance and emboldened regional actors that Washington designates as proxies.
This is where Gaza matters. The devastation of Gaza did not cause Washington’s renewed threats against Iran. It exposed their logic. As Israel flattened an entire population under the language of self‑defense, Iran became the necessary external villain, the shadowy puppeteer blamed for regional resistance movements that are, in reality, rooted in local histories of occupation, dispossession and authoritarian governance.
By framing Iran as the master controller of Hamas, Hezbollah and every act of resistance in the region, Washington absolves Israel of political responsibility and transforms colonial violence into a defensive necessity. Palestinian resistance is stripped of agency, history and political meaning, recast instead as an Iranian export product. This narrative is not merely dishonest. It is strategically convenient.
It also performs a second function. It locks the United States into Israel’s wars, whether Americans want them or not. The influence of pro‑Israel lobbying groups in Washington is not a conspiracy. It is a documented reality. Their power lies not in secret control, but in ideological discipline. United States politicians are permitted to debate tactics, but seldom the premise. They may question Netanyahu’s tone, but never the assumption that Israel’s security overrides all other considerations, including American interests, regional stability or international law.
This discipline explains the eerie bipartisan consensus that emerged even as Gaza descended into mass death. President Trump threatens Iran as a campaign prop while positioning a “massive armada” toward the region in the name of nuclear diplomacy and deterrence. President Biden, on the other hand, maintains a posture of “ironclad” commitment to Israel while condemning some Iranian actions but continuing to supply Israel with sophisticated weaponry even as human rights organizations and international observers increasingly describe Gaza as suffering genocidal violence. Yet the conclusion is identical. Iran must be deterred so Israel can act without restraint.
The armada and the trigger: How the US-Iran standoff could ignite a regional catastrophe
The result is a policy framework that is both morally bankrupt and strategically incoherent. Iran is more regionally entrenched than ever, precisely because United States pressure has eliminated incentives for moderation. Sanctions have empowered hardliners, not weakened them. Israel, meanwhile, is more diplomatically isolated than at any point since its founding, while American credibility as a defender of international law has collapsed in full view of the Global South. Arab leaders themselves are increasingly public in rejecting the notion that Iran is the principal source of instability in the region. Oman’s foreign minister, for example, declared that Israel, not Tehran, is the chief source of insecurity, a striking departure from decades of Washington‑aligned regional narratives.
And yet Washington persists. The greatest irony is this. The United States claims to fear a regional war with Iran while relentlessly pursuing the policies that make such a war more likely. Sanctions without diplomacy, threats without off ramps, and unconditional support for Israeli violence ensure perpetual escalation. What is presented as deterrence functions in practice as provocation. Iran has publicly warned that any attack on its territory or forces will be treated as an act of war, reflecting the very dynamic Washington claims to want to avoid.
Gaza did not radicalize Iran. Gaza revealed Washington. It revealed a foreign policy establishment incapable of distinguishing between alliance and subservience, between security and impunity. Until the United States confronts the reality that its Iran policy is driven less by strategic calculation than by ideological loyalty to Israel, it will continue sacrificing regional peace and potentially American lives to preserve a collapsing narrative.
And Iran, whatever one thinks of its political system, will remain the enemy not because it is uniquely dangerous, but because it refuses to kneel.
The views expressed in this article belong to the author and do not necessarily reflect the editorial policy of Middle East Monitor.
Opinion
Gulf allies urge restraint as Washington weighs escalation
Newspapers in Iran’s capital Tehran prominently featured statements by US President Donald Trump suggesting that military options against Iran could be considered following interventions in protests across the country on January 28, 2026. [Fatemeh Bahrami – Anadolu Agency]
by Kurniawan Arif Maspul
January 31, 2026
Republic of Iran Navy naval drill “Force-99” at Sea of Oman on January 14, 2021 [IRANIAN ARMY/Anadolu Agency]
Iran plans to hold joint naval exercises with China and Russia in the northern Indian Ocean region in mid-February, Iranian media reported on Saturday amid elevated tensions with the US, Anadolu reports.
The semi-official Tasnim News Agency said the eighth edition of the joint drills, known as the “Maritime Security Belt,” will bring together naval units from the three countries.
The exercise will involve units from Iran’s regular navy and the naval forces of the Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps (IRGC), alongside naval forces from China and Russia, the report added.
The mid-February drills will be held in the northern Indian Ocean.
The “Maritime Security Belt” exercises were launched in 2019 at the initiative of Iran’s navy, Tasnim said. Seven previous editions of the joint drills have been held since then.
The drills come as tensions have escalated between Tehran and Washington in recent weeks, following US President Donald Trump’s statements that a “massive armada” was moving toward Iran, alongside his call for Tehran to “come to the table” for negotiations.
Iranian officials have warned that any US attack would draw a “swift and comprehensive” response while reiterating that Tehran remains open to talks only under what it describes as “fair, balanced, and noncoercive terms.”
Opinion
Washington’s bipartisan war on Iran did not begin with Gaza. Gaza exposed it
January 31, 2026
Middle East Monitor.
A woman walks past an anti-American murals following a possible US intervention against Iran on January 28, 2026 in Tehran, Iran. [Fatemeh Bahrami – Anadolu Agency]
A woman walks past an anti-American murals following a possible US intervention against Iran on January 28, 2026 in Tehran, Iran. [Fatemeh Bahrami – Anadolu Agency]
by Dr Asad Ullah
For decades, Washington has insisted that its hostility toward Iran is a response to Iranian “aggression,” “terrorism,” or the Islamic Republic’s supposed refusal to “behave like a normal state.” Yet the synchronized threats issued by both Donald Trump and Joe Biden in the aftermath of Gaza’s annihilation reveal a more uncomfortable truth. American policy toward Iran has little to do with Iranian actions and everything to do with preserving an Israeli‑centered regional order at any cost.
To understand this moment, one must begin with an inconvenient historical fact that the United States foreign policy establishment prefers to forget. The United States was not always Iran’s enemy and Iran was not always the problem.
Before the 1979 Islamic Revolution, Iran was one of Washington’s most reliable pillars in the Middle East. The Shah’s regime, installed and protected after the CIA‑backed overthrow of Prime Minister Mohammad Mossadegh in 1953, served American strategic interests faithfully. It purchased billions of dollars in American weapons, stabilized oil markets and acted as a regional gendarme against Arab nationalism and leftist movements. Repression, torture and political imprisonment were not obstacles to partnership. They were, in fact, quietly subsidized. A 1955 treaty of amity formalized this relationship of cooperation and mutual interest between Washington and Tehran.
Iran became an enemy not because it threatened the region, but because it defied American ownership. The Islamic Revolution shattered a core assumption of United States Middle East policy, namely that regional states exist to be managed, disciplined and aligned with American power. Iran’s crime was not extremism but autonomy. Its refusal to subordinate itself to Washington and later to normalize relations with Israel without conditions marked it for permanent punishment. By the end of 1979, diplomatic ties were severed and sustained sanctions were imposed.
From that point onward, United States policy toward Iran became doctrinal rather than strategic. Iran was transformed into an abstract villain, immune to evidence, negotiation or context. Even when Tehran cooperated, whether against the Taliban after the attacks of September 11, 2001, or through painstaking compliance with the 2015 nuclear deal, Washington responded with betrayal and recrimination.
The Joint Comprehensive Plan of Action, concluded between Iran and the P5+1 in 2015, constrained Iran’s nuclear program and opened it to strict inspections. Contrary to claims that Iran violated the deal, international tracking of its nuclear material showed Tehran compliant with the agreement’s terms. Yet in 2018 the United States withdrew unilaterally under President Trump and reimposed sanctions, rejecting the verification mechanisms that had worked and destabilizing the diplomatic architecture that had taken years to construct. The withdrawal was welcomed by Israeli hardliners who saw any détente with Tehran as an existential threat to their regional strategy.
Washington’s “maximum pressure” campaign since then has inflicted devastating economic pain on ordinary Iranian citizens while providing little leverage toward genuine diplomacy. It has strengthened hardliners and eroded incentives for moderation. Sanctions that were supposed to bring Tehran to heel have instead reinforced narratives of resistance and emboldened regional actors that Washington designates as proxies.
This is where Gaza matters. The devastation of Gaza did not cause Washington’s renewed threats against Iran. It exposed their logic. As Israel flattened an entire population under the language of self‑defense, Iran became the necessary external villain, the shadowy puppeteer blamed for regional resistance movements that are, in reality, rooted in local histories of occupation, dispossession and authoritarian governance.
By framing Iran as the master controller of Hamas, Hezbollah and every act of resistance in the region, Washington absolves Israel of political responsibility and transforms colonial violence into a defensive necessity. Palestinian resistance is stripped of agency, history and political meaning, recast instead as an Iranian export product. This narrative is not merely dishonest. It is strategically convenient.
It also performs a second function. It locks the United States into Israel’s wars, whether Americans want them or not. The influence of pro‑Israel lobbying groups in Washington is not a conspiracy. It is a documented reality. Their power lies not in secret control, but in ideological discipline. United States politicians are permitted to debate tactics, but seldom the premise. They may question Netanyahu’s tone, but never the assumption that Israel’s security overrides all other considerations, including American interests, regional stability or international law.
This discipline explains the eerie bipartisan consensus that emerged even as Gaza descended into mass death. President Trump threatens Iran as a campaign prop while positioning a “massive armada” toward the region in the name of nuclear diplomacy and deterrence. President Biden, on the other hand, maintains a posture of “ironclad” commitment to Israel while condemning some Iranian actions but continuing to supply Israel with sophisticated weaponry even as human rights organizations and international observers increasingly describe Gaza as suffering genocidal violence. Yet the conclusion is identical. Iran must be deterred so Israel can act without restraint.
The armada and the trigger: How the US-Iran standoff could ignite a regional catastrophe
The result is a policy framework that is both morally bankrupt and strategically incoherent. Iran is more regionally entrenched than ever, precisely because United States pressure has eliminated incentives for moderation. Sanctions have empowered hardliners, not weakened them. Israel, meanwhile, is more diplomatically isolated than at any point since its founding, while American credibility as a defender of international law has collapsed in full view of the Global South. Arab leaders themselves are increasingly public in rejecting the notion that Iran is the principal source of instability in the region. Oman’s foreign minister, for example, declared that Israel, not Tehran, is the chief source of insecurity, a striking departure from decades of Washington‑aligned regional narratives.
And yet Washington persists. The greatest irony is this. The United States claims to fear a regional war with Iran while relentlessly pursuing the policies that make such a war more likely. Sanctions without diplomacy, threats without off ramps, and unconditional support for Israeli violence ensure perpetual escalation. What is presented as deterrence functions in practice as provocation. Iran has publicly warned that any attack on its territory or forces will be treated as an act of war, reflecting the very dynamic Washington claims to want to avoid.
Gaza did not radicalize Iran. Gaza revealed Washington. It revealed a foreign policy establishment incapable of distinguishing between alliance and subservience, between security and impunity. Until the United States confronts the reality that its Iran policy is driven less by strategic calculation than by ideological loyalty to Israel, it will continue sacrificing regional peace and potentially American lives to preserve a collapsing narrative.
And Iran, whatever one thinks of its political system, will remain the enemy not because it is uniquely dangerous, but because it refuses to kneel.
The views expressed in this article belong to the author and do not necessarily reflect the editorial policy of Middle East Monitor.
Opinion
Gulf allies urge restraint as Washington weighs escalation
Newspapers in Iran’s capital Tehran prominently featured statements by US President Donald Trump suggesting that military options against Iran could be considered following interventions in protests across the country on January 28, 2026. [Fatemeh Bahrami – Anadolu Agency]
by Kurniawan Arif Maspul
January 31, 2026
Middle East Monitor
At a moment when the Middle East stands on the edge of escalation, the decisive voices have already been heard — not from Washington, but from Riyadh, Abu Dhabi, Doha and other GCC nations. In the last 48 hours, the Gulf has moved from anxious diplomacy to the edge of a direct military crisis as Washington and Tehran traded threats even while back-channel talks and regional mediation intensified. Calmly and deliberately, Gulf states have reaffirmed a simple truth: their land, airspace and bases will not be used to fuel another war on Iran.
This is not an exceptional stance, but a consistent one — born of long memory, strategic clarity and a deep, collective determination to keep the region from sliding once more into avoidable conflict.
The numbers alone explain the fear. Around 20 per cent of global oil still flows through the Strait of Hormuz, roughly 20 million barrels per day transit the Strait of Hormuz — about one-fifth of global oil flows — while the IMF’s January 2026 World Economic Outlook flags regional instability as a material growth risk. Even a brief disruption would send shockwaves through energy markets already stretched by wars in Ukraine and Gaza, inflationary pressures, and fragile post-pandemic recovery. The International Monetary Fund has repeatedly warned that a major Gulf conflict could shave multiple percentage points off global growth.
For states whose own economic diversification plans depend on stability — Saudi Arabia’s Vision 2030, the UAE’s non-oil GDP now exceeding 70 per cent, Qatar’s gas-driven sovereign wealth — war is not an abstraction. It is an existential threat to development trajectories painstakingly built over decades.
Yet the Gulf position is not only economic. It is deeply historical. The region remembers what external intervention looks like once the slogans fade. Iraq after 2003 experienced deep institutional disruption, leading to extensive societal costs and enabling the rise of non-state armed actors. Libya’s 2011 intervention fractured a state and destabilised North Africa. Afghanistan, after twenty years and more than US$2 trillion spent, returned to where it began.
These are not distant case studies. They are life lessons. Therefore, they come to the same answer, which is why the Gulf reaction to recent threats against Iran has been so swift and unambiguous.
Saudi Arabia has formally conveyed to Tehran that its territory and airspace will not be used for any attack. The UAE has publicly stated it will not permit hostile military actions from its soil. Qatar and Kuwait have reportedly delivered the same message in private channels. Turkey, a NATO member, has gone further, warning that foreign intervention would only deepen crises and offering mediation instead. This is not hedging. It is collective risk aversion born of experience.
Critics in Western capitals sometimes misread this stance as weakness or duplicity. It is neither. It is realism of the most classical kind.
The Gulf states understand that geography cannot be wished away. Iranian retaliation would not land in Washington or Brussels; it would land in Dhahran, Dubai or Doha. Missile ranges, drone capabilities and proxy networks make the Gulf uniquely vulnerable. When Iranian officials warn that any facilitation of attacks would make regional states complicit, that is not bluster. It is deterrence by proximity.
There is also a deeper normative shift underway. Over the past decade, Gulf diplomacy has moved decisively towards de-escalation. Saudi-Iranian diplomatic normalisation brokered by China in 2023 was not a love story; it was a strategic ceasefire. The UAE has restored full ties with Tehran. Oman and Qatar have long played mediating roles. The Gulf Cooperation Council’s most recent summit statement emphasised dialogue, peaceful dispute resolution and collective security. This language is not accidental. It reflects an emerging consensus that regional problems require regional solutions, not imported wars.
From an international relations perspective, this moment is striking. This is a textbook security-dilemma dynamic — actions taken as defensive by one actor are interpreted as offensive by another, which helps explain why measures meant to reassure often have the opposite effect. Realism explains the refusal to host attacks. Liberalism explains the insistence on dialogue and international law. Constructivism explains the shared trauma that now shapes Gulf identity: a region exhausted by being a theatre for other people’s battles.
A post-colonial lens adds another layer — a quiet rejection of being treated as strategic real estate rather than sovereign actors. The Gulf is not rejecting alliances; it is redefining the terms of engagement.
What is often missed is that this stance is not pro-Iranian. Gulf leaders harbour no illusions about Tehran’s policies, from its nuclear ambitions to its network of armed non-state actors.
But there is a clear-eyed recognition that bombing Iran will not deliver reform, moderation or democracy. On the contrary, history suggests it would consolidate hardliners, legitimise repression under the banner of national defence, and radicalise a population that has repeatedly shown internal appetite for change. As scholars have noted, there is no credible case where external military intervention produced a smooth democratic transition.
Muscat’s quiet back-channel work during the talks that led to the 2015 nuclear deal offers a practical template: discreet, third-party maritime deconfliction and a simple missile-notification channel reduced near-misses without public fanfare. Oman’s discreet mediation and Muscat’s role in facilitating US-Iran backchannels during the JCPOA years show modest, quiet diplomacy can avert catastrophe — keep that model in view.
There is also the risk of escalation by design rather than accident. Only months ago, a limited Israel–Iran confrontation saw missiles strike a major US base in Qatar. That exchange lasted days. A broader conflict would not. Analysts assessed that a narrowly scoped strike could nonetheless generate spillover effects across the region, including reactions from aligned non-state actors and cyber operations against strategic assets. The price would be paid not by decision-makers, but by civilians and economies.
Comparisons matter here. During the Cold War, small and medium powers from Austria to Indonesia refused to become launchpads for superpower conflict. Neutrality was not moral indifference; it was national survival. The Gulf today is exercising a similar logic, adapted to a multipolar world where China, Russia and the United States all compete for influence. Sovereignty, not alignment, is the organising principle.
There is an opportunity hidden in this restraint. If taken seriously, the Gulf position could form the backbone of a new regional security architecture. Confidence-building measures in the Strait of Hormuz, missile notification mechanisms, expanded nuclear inspections, and structured dialogue that includes Iran rather than isolating it — these ideas are not utopian. Variations have worked elsewhere. Economic incentives, humanitarian channels, and gradual sanctions relief tied to verifiable commitments could shift calculations on all sides.
For middle powers watching from afar, the lesson is no longer regional — it is profoundly global, and it speaks most directly to the United States. The most responsible voices in the Middle East today are not demanding regime change, not rehearsing the language of shock-and-awe, and not confusing military dominance with strategic wisdom. They are calling, with urgency and restraint, for patience, diplomacy and an uncompromising respect for sovereignty. In a world where trust has been eroded by broken promises and unfinished wars, that call deserves to be heard far beyond the region.
The ring of fire: From Tehran to southern Lebanon, the battle lines are drawn
For Washington, then, restraint should be reframed as a strategic asset — preserving regional order while buying political space for diplomacy at home. Iraq, Afghanistan and Libya still cast long shadows over American credibility, not because intentions were questioned, but because outcomes were devastating. Each intervention promised order and delivered fragmentation.
Each spoke of liberation and left behind instability. The Gulf’s message is shaped by those memories — and by the understanding that another war with Iran would not be contained, not quick, and not redeeming. This is not a break with Washington’s leadership, but a call for a better version of it — one built on listening, coalition, and restraint, as Gulf allies signal that partnership does not mean obedience when disaster approaches.
The implications are equally profound. These states have long understood that global stability depends not on who can strike first, but on who can prevent collapse. Their influence lies in amplifying restraint, defending international law, and reminding great powers that the world pays the price when wars of choice replace politics of patience. In moments like this, silence is not neutrality; it is abdication.
What is emerging from the Middle East is a quiet but powerful moral argument: that sovereignty still matters, that human life is not collateral, and that the future cannot be bombed into existence. At a time when global politics feels increasingly brittle, this stance offers something rare — a chance to step back from the edge. Whether the United States and its partners choose to heed that warning will define not only the fate of Iran and the region, but the credibility of global leadership in an age that can no longer afford another unnecessary war.
The Gulf states are not asking the world to like Iran’s government. They are asking the world to remember the cost of war, to listen to those who would bear it first, and to recognise that stability is a prerequisite for reform, not its enemy. In saying ‘not from our soil’, the Gulf is not closing doors. It is opening a narrow but vital corridor away from disaster.
Whether global powers choose to walk through it will shape not only Iran’s future, but the credibility of the international order itself. Restraint is not hesitation — it is the last line between order and collapse.
The views expressed in this article belong to the author and do not necessarily reflect the editorial policy of Middle East Monitor.
At a moment when the Middle East stands on the edge of escalation, the decisive voices have already been heard — not from Washington, but from Riyadh, Abu Dhabi, Doha and other GCC nations. In the last 48 hours, the Gulf has moved from anxious diplomacy to the edge of a direct military crisis as Washington and Tehran traded threats even while back-channel talks and regional mediation intensified. Calmly and deliberately, Gulf states have reaffirmed a simple truth: their land, airspace and bases will not be used to fuel another war on Iran.
This is not an exceptional stance, but a consistent one — born of long memory, strategic clarity and a deep, collective determination to keep the region from sliding once more into avoidable conflict.
The numbers alone explain the fear. Around 20 per cent of global oil still flows through the Strait of Hormuz, roughly 20 million barrels per day transit the Strait of Hormuz — about one-fifth of global oil flows — while the IMF’s January 2026 World Economic Outlook flags regional instability as a material growth risk. Even a brief disruption would send shockwaves through energy markets already stretched by wars in Ukraine and Gaza, inflationary pressures, and fragile post-pandemic recovery. The International Monetary Fund has repeatedly warned that a major Gulf conflict could shave multiple percentage points off global growth.
For states whose own economic diversification plans depend on stability — Saudi Arabia’s Vision 2030, the UAE’s non-oil GDP now exceeding 70 per cent, Qatar’s gas-driven sovereign wealth — war is not an abstraction. It is an existential threat to development trajectories painstakingly built over decades.
Yet the Gulf position is not only economic. It is deeply historical. The region remembers what external intervention looks like once the slogans fade. Iraq after 2003 experienced deep institutional disruption, leading to extensive societal costs and enabling the rise of non-state armed actors. Libya’s 2011 intervention fractured a state and destabilised North Africa. Afghanistan, after twenty years and more than US$2 trillion spent, returned to where it began.
These are not distant case studies. They are life lessons. Therefore, they come to the same answer, which is why the Gulf reaction to recent threats against Iran has been so swift and unambiguous.
Saudi Arabia has formally conveyed to Tehran that its territory and airspace will not be used for any attack. The UAE has publicly stated it will not permit hostile military actions from its soil. Qatar and Kuwait have reportedly delivered the same message in private channels. Turkey, a NATO member, has gone further, warning that foreign intervention would only deepen crises and offering mediation instead. This is not hedging. It is collective risk aversion born of experience.
Critics in Western capitals sometimes misread this stance as weakness or duplicity. It is neither. It is realism of the most classical kind.
The Gulf states understand that geography cannot be wished away. Iranian retaliation would not land in Washington or Brussels; it would land in Dhahran, Dubai or Doha. Missile ranges, drone capabilities and proxy networks make the Gulf uniquely vulnerable. When Iranian officials warn that any facilitation of attacks would make regional states complicit, that is not bluster. It is deterrence by proximity.
There is also a deeper normative shift underway. Over the past decade, Gulf diplomacy has moved decisively towards de-escalation. Saudi-Iranian diplomatic normalisation brokered by China in 2023 was not a love story; it was a strategic ceasefire. The UAE has restored full ties with Tehran. Oman and Qatar have long played mediating roles. The Gulf Cooperation Council’s most recent summit statement emphasised dialogue, peaceful dispute resolution and collective security. This language is not accidental. It reflects an emerging consensus that regional problems require regional solutions, not imported wars.
From an international relations perspective, this moment is striking. This is a textbook security-dilemma dynamic — actions taken as defensive by one actor are interpreted as offensive by another, which helps explain why measures meant to reassure often have the opposite effect. Realism explains the refusal to host attacks. Liberalism explains the insistence on dialogue and international law. Constructivism explains the shared trauma that now shapes Gulf identity: a region exhausted by being a theatre for other people’s battles.
A post-colonial lens adds another layer — a quiet rejection of being treated as strategic real estate rather than sovereign actors. The Gulf is not rejecting alliances; it is redefining the terms of engagement.
What is often missed is that this stance is not pro-Iranian. Gulf leaders harbour no illusions about Tehran’s policies, from its nuclear ambitions to its network of armed non-state actors.
But there is a clear-eyed recognition that bombing Iran will not deliver reform, moderation or democracy. On the contrary, history suggests it would consolidate hardliners, legitimise repression under the banner of national defence, and radicalise a population that has repeatedly shown internal appetite for change. As scholars have noted, there is no credible case where external military intervention produced a smooth democratic transition.
Muscat’s quiet back-channel work during the talks that led to the 2015 nuclear deal offers a practical template: discreet, third-party maritime deconfliction and a simple missile-notification channel reduced near-misses without public fanfare. Oman’s discreet mediation and Muscat’s role in facilitating US-Iran backchannels during the JCPOA years show modest, quiet diplomacy can avert catastrophe — keep that model in view.
There is also the risk of escalation by design rather than accident. Only months ago, a limited Israel–Iran confrontation saw missiles strike a major US base in Qatar. That exchange lasted days. A broader conflict would not. Analysts assessed that a narrowly scoped strike could nonetheless generate spillover effects across the region, including reactions from aligned non-state actors and cyber operations against strategic assets. The price would be paid not by decision-makers, but by civilians and economies.
Comparisons matter here. During the Cold War, small and medium powers from Austria to Indonesia refused to become launchpads for superpower conflict. Neutrality was not moral indifference; it was national survival. The Gulf today is exercising a similar logic, adapted to a multipolar world where China, Russia and the United States all compete for influence. Sovereignty, not alignment, is the organising principle.
There is an opportunity hidden in this restraint. If taken seriously, the Gulf position could form the backbone of a new regional security architecture. Confidence-building measures in the Strait of Hormuz, missile notification mechanisms, expanded nuclear inspections, and structured dialogue that includes Iran rather than isolating it — these ideas are not utopian. Variations have worked elsewhere. Economic incentives, humanitarian channels, and gradual sanctions relief tied to verifiable commitments could shift calculations on all sides.
For middle powers watching from afar, the lesson is no longer regional — it is profoundly global, and it speaks most directly to the United States. The most responsible voices in the Middle East today are not demanding regime change, not rehearsing the language of shock-and-awe, and not confusing military dominance with strategic wisdom. They are calling, with urgency and restraint, for patience, diplomacy and an uncompromising respect for sovereignty. In a world where trust has been eroded by broken promises and unfinished wars, that call deserves to be heard far beyond the region.
The ring of fire: From Tehran to southern Lebanon, the battle lines are drawn
For Washington, then, restraint should be reframed as a strategic asset — preserving regional order while buying political space for diplomacy at home. Iraq, Afghanistan and Libya still cast long shadows over American credibility, not because intentions were questioned, but because outcomes were devastating. Each intervention promised order and delivered fragmentation.
Each spoke of liberation and left behind instability. The Gulf’s message is shaped by those memories — and by the understanding that another war with Iran would not be contained, not quick, and not redeeming. This is not a break with Washington’s leadership, but a call for a better version of it — one built on listening, coalition, and restraint, as Gulf allies signal that partnership does not mean obedience when disaster approaches.
The implications are equally profound. These states have long understood that global stability depends not on who can strike first, but on who can prevent collapse. Their influence lies in amplifying restraint, defending international law, and reminding great powers that the world pays the price when wars of choice replace politics of patience. In moments like this, silence is not neutrality; it is abdication.
What is emerging from the Middle East is a quiet but powerful moral argument: that sovereignty still matters, that human life is not collateral, and that the future cannot be bombed into existence. At a time when global politics feels increasingly brittle, this stance offers something rare — a chance to step back from the edge. Whether the United States and its partners choose to heed that warning will define not only the fate of Iran and the region, but the credibility of global leadership in an age that can no longer afford another unnecessary war.
The Gulf states are not asking the world to like Iran’s government. They are asking the world to remember the cost of war, to listen to those who would bear it first, and to recognise that stability is a prerequisite for reform, not its enemy. In saying ‘not from our soil’, the Gulf is not closing doors. It is opening a narrow but vital corridor away from disaster.
Whether global powers choose to walk through it will shape not only Iran’s future, but the credibility of the international order itself. Restraint is not hesitation — it is the last line between order and collapse.
The views expressed in this article belong to the author and do not necessarily reflect the editorial policy of Middle East Monitor.
No comments:
Post a Comment