The battlefields of the U.S.–Israeli war on Iran are no longer confined to ports, refineries, and military bases. In recent weeks, they have extended into the very heart of the Middle East’s digital infrastructure.

This shift comes at a moment when Gulf states have been rapidly transforming into hubs for massive cloud investments. Technology companies have poured billions of dollars into building and expanding data centers, turning these facilities into integral components of the region’s economic and political landscape not merely background technical infrastructure.

Key Developments on the Ground

A turning point came on March 1, when Iran launched a barrage of drones and missiles toward Gulf countries.

Amazon Web Services (AWS) announced that two of its facilities in the United Arab Emirates sustained direct hits, while a drone strike near a third facility in Bahrain caused what it described as a “material impact.”

The company said the attacks resulted in structural damage, power outages, and additional water damage caused by firefighting efforts leading to a prolonged recovery. This marks the first known instance in which a military operation has disrupted a data center belonging to a major American technology firm.

On March 23, Amazon reported that its “Bahrain region” experienced disruptions due to drone activity, adding that it was assisting customers in migrating operations to other regions.

The company did not confirm whether the facility had been directly hit but emphasized that the operational environment in the region had become unpredictable—marking a second disruption within a single month.

Then, on April 1, Bahrain’s Interior Ministry announced that civil defense teams had extinguished a fire at a company facility following what it described as an “Iranian attack.” The following day, Reuters cited Iran’s Revolutionary Guard as claiming responsibility for targeting an Amazon facility in Bahrain.

The targeting has not been limited to the Gulf. Bloomberg reported that Israel and the United States struck two data centers in Tehran during the early weeks of the war, one of which was linked to the Revolutionary Guard.

The Royal United Services Institute (RUSI) noted that these strikes reveal a new logic of targeting: data centers host both civilian and military applications, including command-and-control systems and projects such as the U.S. “Project Maven,” making them dual-use assets.

It added that the Revolutionary Guard had published a list of “legitimate” targets that included Amazon, Microsoft, Google, IBM, Oracle, and Nvidia reflecting a shift in how these facilities are viewed, from commercial infrastructure to assets of direct military value.

Cloud Infrastructure in the Middle East

Today, critical cloud infrastructure in the Middle East is concentrated primarily in the Gulf particularly in the UAE, Saudi Arabia, Bahrain, and Qatar.

According to Emirates NBD, the UAE hosts 35 data centers, followed by Saudi Arabia with 20 and Qatar with five. This underscores the prominence of Abu Dhabi, Dubai, Riyadh, and Jeddah, alongside a smaller footprint in Manama and Doha.

The Gulf has become a regional hub for cloud computing thanks to abundant energy resources and capital. Yet these same facilities have grown more visible and more vulnerable—in times of war.

Within this landscape, AWS operates cloud regions in Bahrain, the UAE, and Israel. As the Associated Press explains, each region consists of multiple independent data centers designed to ensure redundancy and continuity. However, they are not immune to missile strikes or drone attacks.

Amazon launched its cloud region in Israel in 2023, while Google activated its first local cloud region there in 2022 to serve government and military clients.

This highlights how the region’s cloud infrastructure stretches from the Gulf to the eastern Mediterranean and how it is tied not only to commercial services but also to government and security contracts.

The expansion is underpinned by massive investments. Microsoft plans to invest $15.2 billion in the UAE between 2023 and 2029 and had already spent $7.3 billion by the end of 2025. In partnership with G42, it also announced plans to expand UAE data center capacity by 200 megawatts, with operations expected before the end of 2026.

Amazon, for its part, has committed more than $5.3 billion to build a new cloud region in Saudi Arabia. Meanwhile, Google and Saudi Arabia’s Public Investment Fund are working on a $10 billion project to establish a “global AI hub” in the kingdom.

Oracle continues to expand its presence in Jeddah and is opening a new region in Riyadh, while preparations are underway for the “Stargate” project in Abu Dhabi envisioned as the nucleus of a massive, multi-gigawatt data center campus.

These facilities do far more than store data. They provide the computational power needed to run artificial intelligence models, host government systems and financial infrastructure, and support startups and public institutions alike.

Yet this very role increases their vulnerability. They depend on electricity, telecommunications, and water and remain large, easily identifiable installations.

The Associated Press notes that AWS relies on redundancy across water, power, telecommunications, and internet connectivity to ensure continuity. However, its physical security measures are primarily designed to prevent intrusion not to withstand military strikes making these centers closer to critical industrial facilities than to silent “data warehouses.”

Economic and Operational Implications

The strikes have made clear that data centers are no longer merely technical components they are now critical infrastructure.

AWS and similar services underpin the digital backbone of government, financial, educational, and commercial sectors. This is why Amazon has urged customers to migrate their operations and data to other regions.

While the Associated Press warned that the loss of a single data center may be manageable, losing multiple centers within the same region could create a real capacity shortfall and trigger broader outages.

Operationally, the crisis has revealed that choosing a cloud location is no longer merely a technical or financial decision it is a strategic one tied to political and geographic stability. AWS has advised customers to back up their data and shift operations to unaffected regions.

The Center for Strategic and International Studies noted that adversaries who once targeted oil pipelines and refineries can now, in the “age of computing,” shift toward data centers, the power infrastructure that supports them, and fiber-optic chokepoints.

This shift helps explain why such facilities are increasingly treated as targets of economic and operational value on par with ports and power plants.

Economically, the strikes do not appear to be isolated incidents but rather a warning: massive investments in cloud infrastructure are now exposed to the same geopolitical risks that threaten maritime routes and energy installations.

Disabling a single data center can paralyze banks and government offices and cost institutions millions of dollars in a short time, according to Bloomberg.

Data centers in the Middle East are no longer peripheral to the economy they are part of its core equation, much like ports, refineries, and power stations.

In its broader meaning, the war reveals that the digital economy does not operate in a vacuum. It depends on energy, water, fiber optics, and security stability. When any of these links is disrupted or threatened, the applications, services, and transactions that appear “virtual” are affected as well.

What has unfolded since early March shows that modern warfare no longer targets only what moves on land or passes through sea lanes but also the systems that manage data, communications, and services above them.

The arrival of Turkey’s drillship Çağrı Bey in Somali territorial waters in April 2026 was not merely a technical step in offshore exploration. It marked a revealing moment in a deeper transformation in the nature of Turkey’s presence in Somalia.

Ankara, which has entrenched its influence over the past decade through humanitarian aid, the construction of a military base, and the training of Somali forces, now appears to be adding a new layer to that influence one defined by offshore energy and deep-sea exploration.

What, then, is the mission of this vessel? What is the scope of its operations? How significant are Somalia’s offshore hydrocarbon resources? And how do both sides stand to benefit from this cooperation?

The Vessel’s Mission and Operational Scope

After a 45-day journey, the vessel reached the Gulf of Aden accompanied by three naval frigates assigned to protect it. It had departed on February 15 from the port of Taşucu in Mersin, navigating via the Cape of Good Hope after being unable to transit the Suez Canal due to the height of its drilling tower.

Its arrival coincided with a ceremonial program in Mogadishu, where the Somali government declared that the operation could transform the country’s economy and strengthen its regional standing.

The Çagri Bey is a seventh-generation deepwater drillship, measuring 228 meters in length, designed to drill wells at depths of up to 12,000 meters and capable of accommodating around 200 personnel.

The drilling project is the outcome of a series of agreements signed between Ankara and Mogadishu in 2024:

• On February 8, a “framework agreement for defense and economic cooperation” granted Turkey a role in protecting Somali waters.

• On March 7, a government agreement on oil and gas cooperation was signed, covering exploration, evaluation, development, and production in both onshore and offshore blocks.

• In July, the Turkish Petroleum Corporation (TPAO) signed a “hydrocarbon exploration and production agreement” with the Somali Petroleum Authority, granting Ankara exclusive rights to explore and produce oil and gas in three offshore blocks.

Subsequently, Ankara dispatched the survey vessel Oruç Reis in October to conduct 3D seismic surveys over an area of 4,465 square kilometers, completing 78 percent of the work before returning in July 2025.

According to Turkey’s Ministry of Energy, Çağrı Bey is set to begin drilling at the “Korad-1” well (also referred to as “Korad” or “Kurad”), located within Block 153 approximately 370 kilometers east of Mogadishu. Water depth at the site reaches around 3,500 meters, with drilling expected to extend to 7,500 meters.

Reports by the African economic agency Ecofin indicate that the well lies in Somalia’s “Central High” zone one of the deepest offshore drilling areas in the world selected based on prior seismic data.

The Somali government has not publicly delineated detailed offshore block boundaries, but the Turkish-Somali agreement grants TPAO operational rights in three offshore blocks, including Block 153, where the first well will be drilled.

Experts agree that Somalia’s offshore hydrocarbon resources remain unproven. To date, no offshore exploratory wells have been drilled to enable a commercial assessment.

Estimates by the Somali government, the U.S. Department of Commerce, and survey companies suggest that offshore basins may contain between 30 and 40 billion barrels of oil and gas equivalent. However, these figures are based on seismic data and geological modeling rather than confirmed reserves.

Some officials speak of confirmed gas reserves of around 6 billion cubic meters, yet no commercial discovery has been made. As such, the Korad-1 well represents a critical test of whether extractable reserves exist and Çağrı Bey will play a decisive role in turning projections into tangible figures.

A Geopolitical Positioning at the Edge of the Red Sea

Where Energy, Security, and Military Presence Converge

The mission of Çağrı Bey cannot be separated from its security context. Over the past decade, Ankara has built its largest overseas military base in Somalia Camp TURKSOM opened in 2017 and spanning four square kilometers, with the aim of training 10,000 Somali soldiers.

Turkey has trained thousands of troops and supported police forces, granting it considerable influence over Somalia’s security apparatus. Turkish companies also operate Mogadishu’s international airport and commercial port under 14-year concession agreements signed in 2020, which include infrastructure rehabilitation in exchange for a share of revenues.

In February 2024, the two countries signed a defense and economic agreement allowing Turkey to provide maritime security support to Somalia, including coast guard training and the protection of territorial waters.

In December 2025, Somalia’s Ministry of Fisheries and Turkey’s military pension fund (OYAK) signed a “strategic cooperation and services agreement,” establishing a joint company—SomTurk—to oversee fishing licenses and regulate activities within the exclusive economic zone, granting Turkey a share of fisheries revenues.

Another maritime security agreement signed in February 2026 provided for the establishment of a joint naval force for ten years to combat piracy and protect Turkish vessels. It also allows Turkish energy ships, including Çağrı Bey, to operate under military protection.

Ties to Maritime Routes and the Gulf of Aden

Somalia’s importance lies in its strategic location at the intersection of the Gulf of Aden and the Indian Ocean, near the Bab el-Mandeb Strait and the Red Sea through which a significant share of global energy trade passes.

Despite the fragility of the Somali state, its long coastline exceeding 3,300 kilometers offers potential for oil and gas, fisheries, and military docking. Ankara thus views Mogadishu as a nexus where energy, security, maritime routes, and political influence converge.

The site where Çağrı Bey will operate lies roughly midway between the Somali coast and Bab el-Mandeb, the strategic chokepoint linking the Red Sea to the Indian Ocean.

This corridor has seen increasing military activity due to Houthi attacks on shipping in the Red Sea and regional competition over ports.

The presence of Turkish warships escorting Çağrı Bey reflects Ankara’s ambition to strengthen its naval footprint in the Indian Ocean and secure its supply lines against piracy and other threats.

The maritime agreement also grants Turkey the right to establish infrastructure in Somali ports and enhance coast guard capabilities, extending Ankara’s “Blue Homeland” doctrine previously focused on the Mediterranean into the Red Sea and beyond.

What Does Each Side Gain?

Turkey

For Ankara, Somalia represents an opportunity to project its “Blue Homeland” strategy into the Indian Ocean. Turkey seeks to diversify its energy sources following gas discoveries in the Black Sea, while its expansion into Africa supports efforts to reduce dependence on energy imports and develop offshore drilling capabilities.

The partnership also provides Turkey with a strategic foothold near Bab el-Mandeb, enhancing its role as an alternative trade corridor to Europe should transit through the Suez Canal be disrupted.

Beyond hydrocarbons, economic gains include access to Somalia’s rich fisheries sector and control over port and airport operations, creating opportunities for Turkish firms in construction, transport, and logistics.

The military base and joint naval force also allow Turkey to train its forces and gain operational experience in open-sea environments, strengthening its standing within NATO and enhancing its leverage in Eastern Mediterranean and Gulf crises.

Turkey benefits from a significant share of revenues during the cost-recovery phase, in addition to port management contracts and fisheries income.

Somalia

For Somalia, a country grappling with weak institutions and limited investment, the agreements offer:

• An opportunity to attract capital, technology, and development financing.

• The prospect that oil and gas discoveries could transform its rent-based economy and boost state revenues.

• A partnership with a capable military power to build a national army and coast guard able to combat piracy and smuggling.

• Job creation through oil, fisheries, and port projects, alongside improved infrastructure and reduced dependence on foreign aid.

Somalia also gains infrastructure investment, technology transfer, and a military presence that strengthens deterrence against armed groups.

However, the agreements carry risks. Allowing Turkey to recover up to 90 percent of revenues during initial phases has sparked accusations of mortgaging Somalia’s resources.

Additionally, the presence of Turkish forces near Bab el-Mandeb could lead to friction with rival states or armed groups, increasing the risk of attacks on facilities.

Regionally, this expansion unfolds amid intense competition over African ports involving the UAE, Qatar, and Turkey, as well as broader rivalries in the Red Sea among Saudi Arabia, Egypt, Israel, and Iran.

The oil agreement with Turkey has also provoked anger in Ethiopia, particularly after Addis Ababa signed a deal with the self-declared Republic of Somaliland granting it access to the Gulf of Aden an arrangement Mogadishu viewed as a violation of its sovereignty. Somalia responded by deepening its maritime agreement with Turkey and allowing Turkish forces to protect its waters.

Ultimately, the success of the project hinges on commercial discoveries. If the Korad-1 well fails to confirm substantial reserves, Somalia risks losing investor confidence and becoming entangled in costly commitments with little return.

By the end of March 2026, tensions between Paris and Tel Aviv had escalated from rhetorical sparring to concrete action, marking the latest step in a deterioration that began just weeks after Israel’s assault on the Gaza Strip in 2023.

In its most recent move, France refused to allow U.S. weapons shipments to Israel to pass through its airspace in the context of the war against Iran. In response, Israel’s Ministry of Defense announced the suspension of all arms purchases from Paris, declaring that France could no longer be considered a partner.

How, then, did the relationship unravel step by step and what do these developments reveal about the limits of French influence in the region and Israel’s evolving view of Paris?

1. The Gaza War Rift

When Hamas launched the “Al-Aqsa Flood” operation in Israeli settlements and occupied territories on October 7, 2023, French President Emmanuel Macron responded with solidarity. He strongly condemned the attacks and affirmed that France “stands in solidarity with Israel,” supporting what he described as its “right to defend itself.”

This pro-Israel stance lasted only a few weeks. It began to shift as Israel’s military campaign in Gaza intensified and thousands of civilian casualties mounted.

On November 10, 2023, Macron called for a halt to the bombing of Gaza, stating that there was “no justification” for the ongoing Israeli airstrikes and urging a permanent ceasefire.

This transition—from solidarity to criticism—angered the Israeli government, particularly as France increasingly called for humanitarian corridors and hosted an aid conference in Paris.

2. Lebanon Deepens the Divide

As the conflict spread from Gaza to Lebanon, Paris sought to play mediator. In February 2024, it presented a written proposal to Beirut aimed at halting hostilities. The plan included a 10-kilometer withdrawal of Hezbollah fighters from the border, deployment of the Lebanese army, a cessation of Israeli airstrikes, and negotiations over border demarcation.

In June 2024, Macron announced that he had reached an understanding with the United States and Israel to accelerate a roadmap for calming tensions along the border.

However, the mediation faced obstacles: Hezbollah refused to discuss any agreement before the war in Gaza ended, while Israel insisted on maintaining freedom of “military operations.”

Lebanon represents the “real test of France’s influence” in the Middle East, particularly given its history as a former colonial power, its deployment of around 700 troops in the UNIFIL peacekeeping force, and its longstanding diplomatic leverage there.

3. Rafah Breaks French Cover

In May 2024, tensions erupted into open confrontation. During Israel’s assault on Rafah which left dozens of civilians dead Macron reiterated his opposition to the operation, warning that its continuation would lead to an “unprecedented catastrophe.”

Days later, France’s Ministry of Defense barred Israeli companies from participating in the Eurosatory international arms exhibition in Paris, citing the lack of appropriate conditions amid Macron’s calls to halt operations in Rafah.

This symbolic move marked a shift in the dispute from the diplomatic arena to the defense sector, provoking anger in Tel Aviv, which viewed it as politically motivated.

4. The Arms Market Turns Adversarial

As the war persisted, France moved from criticism to imposing restrictions on defense cooperation.

In June 2025, during the Paris Air Show, French authorities shut down the main pavilions of Israeli companies including Elbit Systems, Rafael, and Israel Aerospace Industries after they refused to remove offensive weapons from display.

The pavilions were covered with black curtains, and only smaller booths free of offensive equipment were allowed to remain. French Prime Minister François Bayrou justified the decision by stating that France prohibits the display of offensive weapons amid the Gaza war. Israeli companies, however, denounced the move as “political,” invoking memories of discriminatory practices.

In October 2024, the government had attempted to bar Israel from participating in the Euronaval exhibition, but a French administrative court overturned the decision—highlighting the limits of Paris’s ability to impose a comprehensive ban.

5. Recognition of the State of Palestine

In the summer of 2025, Paris escalated its political stance. Macron wrote to Palestinian Authority President Mahmoud Abbas expressing his intention to recognize the State of Palestine during the United Nations General Assembly.

On September 22 of that year, he formally announced the recognition in New York alongside other European countries, declaring that “the time for peace has come” and calling for an end to the war and a return to negotiations.

Tel Aviv reacted angrily. Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu described the move as “a surrender to terrorism” and an interference in Israel’s sovereignty.

For Israel, this recognition—the first by a major Western power—was seen as a strategic shift aligning France with Palestinian rights, further exacerbating tensions.

6. The Iran War: Arms Purchases Drop to Zero

The final turning point came in late March 2026. As part of the U.S.–Israeli war against Iran, Washington requested the use of French airspace to transport munitions to Israel.

Paris refused permission in at least one instance, according to European diplomats, prompting Israel to accuse France of “blocking aid transfers.” French media clarified that this was not a blanket ban: requests are reviewed case by case, and routes can be rerouted.

Nevertheless, Israeli Defense Minister Israel Katz announced that Tel Aviv would halt arms purchases from France, declaring that it was no longer “one of the friendly countries.”

Reuters reported that France’s share of Israel’s arms imports is relatively small, limiting the practical impact of the decision. However, its symbolic weight is significant, as it formalizes the rupture in defense ties.

Is French Influence Fading?

The successive developments suggest that France did not abruptly turn against Israel; rather, it moved gradually from solidarity to criticism, to symbolic defense measures, and ultimately to sharp political positions.

As Israel intensified its military campaign and leaned more heavily on its exclusive relationship with the United States, its willingness to view Paris as an essential partner diminished.

Polling by analytical centers indicates that Israel increasingly sees France as an “irritating” actor incapable of exerting meaningful pressure.

Analysts at the French Foundation for Strategic Research (FRS) note that Israel now regards Paris as a non-essential European player, preferring to rely on its special relationship with Washington and prioritizing military power over diplomacy.

The report warns that regional restructuring led by Israel could marginalize France and push it out of the Middle East altogether, as Paris faces the risk of exclusion from future regional arrangements due to the erosion of international law and the decline of negotiations with Tel Aviv.

Similarly, Manara magazine (affiliated with the Cambridge Middle East and North Africa Forum – MENAF) highlights that France’s ability to influence Lebanon remains limited and contingent on coordination with the United States, reducing its independent weight.

As the Strait of Hormuz choked at the outset of spring 2026 and global energy markets plunged into acute turmoil, the issue has extended far beyond rising prices and disrupted supplies. It has evolved into a race to establish alternative corridors particularly along transit routes linking the Gulf with Europe.

Amid this shift, five regional and international routes have emerged as potential mitigators of the Hormuz shock, varying in readiness and feasibility. These routes are not equal in scope: some are tied to direct Turkish initiatives, while others remain broader regional or global alternatives.
What are these routes, and what are their limitations?

1. Immediate Emergency Routes

First: The Iraq/Khabur Route
In July 2025, the International Road Transport Union (TIR) activated a new overland route connecting Turkey to Kuwait via northern Iraq. Three Turkish trucks completed the journey to Kuwait in just four days, compared to 45 days by sea.

This route depends on security conditions in northern Iraq and the TIR system. While suitable for transporting trucks and general goods, it is not viable for oil or gas shipments.

Its primary advantage lies in speed, yet its passage through unstable regions exposes it to security risks. Moreover, its capacity remains limited compared to the volumes typically transiting Hormuz.

Second: The Syria–Jordan–Saudi Route
In June 2025, Turkey and Syria signed a transit agreement eliminating the dual unloading system and granting Turkish drivers visas at border crossings.

By October 2025, Turkish Trade Minister Ömer Bolat confirmed that the corridor would enable Turkish trucks to reach Jordan and the Gulf, with visa issues addressed and road infrastructure in Syria rehabilitated.

On March 31, 2026, Ankara secured 15-day transit visas for drivers from Saudi Arabia. Bolat stated that access to all Gulf countries would take just three to four days.

This is a purely overland route for general cargo and trucking. It stands as one of the most significant emergency alternatives currently in operation. However, it remains fragile due to security conditions in Syria and Iraq, limited capacity, and its inability to transport oil or gas.

2. Broader Regional Routes with Limited Capacity

First: Suez/Red Sea Then Overland
With escalating conflict, Saudi Arabia and the UAE activated a network of “logistics corridors” transporting containers arriving at Red Sea ports such as Jeddah, Yanbu, and NEOM via trucking routes to Kuwait, Qatar, Bahrain, the UAE, Oman, Iraq, Jordan, and Yemen.

The UAE has also shifted shipments to Fujairah and Khorfakkan ports outside high-risk zones, then overland to Jebel Ali through routes linked to Etihad Rail.

This hybrid sea-land route is well suited for containers and general goods, with companies like CMA CGM offering container transport from Jeddah to Dammam, Doha, and Kuwait via trucks.

Its significance lies in providing a rapid alternative when Hormuz is impassable. However, it is costly: transporting a 40-foot container from Salalah to Dubai costs between $3,000 and $5,000, compared to $200–$400 via Jebel Ali. It is also unsuitable for large-scale energy transport.

Second: The Oman Route
Oman is promoting its ports—Sohar, Duqm, and Salalah—as alternative gateways. Authorities have introduced the “Bayan” system to accelerate permits and allow empty trucks from Gulf states to enter and collect goods.

Ports in Fujairah, Khorfakkan, and Oman lie south of Hormuz, enabling overland connectivity with the Gulf. This maritime-land corridor reduces exposure to Hormuz risks and facilitates container transport.

However, traversing the Empty Quarter increases both distance and cost, and the route remains inefficient for oil and gas transport.

3. A Distant and Costly Global Route

The Cape of Good Hope Route
This route involves ships sailing around southern Africa, extending travel time between Asia and Europe by 10 to 15 days, increasing fuel consumption by 25–30 percent, and raising vessel charter costs.

It is a fallback option during heightened risks in the Gulf and Red Sea. While suitable for certain trade flows, it is not a practical alternative.

Overall Assessment

None of these routes offers immediate capacity for transporting large volumes of oil and gas. Alternative pipeline capacities through Saudi Arabia and the UAE range between 3.5 and 5.5 million barrels per day, compared to the 15 million barrels that typically pass through Hormuz.

These corridors function more as “shock absorbers” than genuine substitutes.

How Is Turkey Attempting to Leverage These Alternatives?

Turkey’s wartime initiatives reflect more than logistical adjustments they signal broader strategic ambitions across three key areas:

1. Sustaining Trade and Preserving Gulf Market Share

Turkey’s exports to Gulf countries dropped by 36.5% in March 2026. In response, Ankara moved quickly to secure transit visas from Saudi Arabia and activate the Syria–Jordan route, reducing delivery times to three or four days.

This provides Turkish companies with critical relief and maintains the flow of goods such as textiles and food products. However, these routes do not address energy trade or reduce Gulf dependence on Hormuz.

2. Positioning Turkey as an Energy and Transit Hub

Turkish Energy Minister Alparslan Bayraktar stated that the Kirkuk–Ceyhan pipeline can transport 1.5 million barrels per day. Ankara is also considering a pipeline project for Qatari gas to Turkey and potentially onward to Europe as well as future pipelines to Hatay.

These proposals underscore Turkey’s ambition to become a key energy corridor to Europe, especially given the limited capacity of Saudi and Emirati pipelines.

However, experts caution that redirecting significant oil and gas flows to alternative overland or pipeline routes would require years of investment. Hormuz remains central to LNG flows, which cannot be quickly rerouted.

3. Advancing Mega-Projects and Converting Geography into Influence

Turkey is leveraging the crisis to promote broader geo-economic projects. The Middle Corridor (Trans-Caspian route) connects China to Europe via Kazakhstan, the Caspian Sea, Azerbaijan, Georgia, and Turkey, reducing transit time to 15 days.

According to Turkey’s Daily Sabah, experts believe this corridor could transform Turkey from a “transit state” into a “multi-dimensional logistics power.”

Meanwhile, Turkey, Iraq, Qatar, and the UAE signed a memorandum in April 2024 for the “Development Road” project, linking Iraq’s Al-Faw Port to Turkey and onward to Europe.

The project envisions highways and railways stretching from Basra to Europe, with its first phase expected by 2028 at a cost exceeding $24 billion, saving up to 10 days compared to the Suez Canal.

Backed by Gulf investments, the project faces security challenges in Iraq and Syria and remains a medium- to long-term solution. Yet it could position Turkey as a central node in Asia-Europe trade.

These routes are not true alternatives to Hormuz but rather uneven mechanisms for mitigating Gulf bottlenecks. Turkey, however, is attempting to transform this limited logistical margin into broader geo-economic leverage enhancing its strategic position in future trade and energy networks.

Despite U.S. President Donald Trump’s calls for European allies to join the war against Iran or at the very least provide bases and air corridors most European capitals declared that it was “not our war,” rejecting Washington’s request while limiting their response to condemning violence and urging de-escalation.

The positions taken by Berlin, Paris, Madrid, and London were not isolated exceptions but part of a broader pattern. Many leaders expressed confusion over the war’s objectives and frustration at not being consulted, while Trump, in turn, described those leaders as “cowards.”

Yet Europe’s cool response cannot be explained merely by fleeting hesitation or populist calculations. Rather, their reluctance to engage in a war with Iran reflects a complex web of structural legal, military, economic, and political factors that make participation both costly and unnecessary from a European perspective.

This report divides these reasons into four explanatory categories, illustrating why European abstention emerged as the most logical outcome.

Legal and Institutional Factors

Limits of Article 5 and the Alliance’s Scope

NATO is a collective defense alliance whose members are bound under Article 5 of the Washington Treaty to treat any “armed attack against one member in Europe or North America” as an attack against all, providing “necessary assistance” in line with their constitutional frameworks not necessarily through troop deployment.

Article 6 defines the geographic scope of these commitments as Europe and the North Atlantic, excluding offensive operations or wars against states in the Middle East.

Therefore, Washington’s decision to launch a war on Iran does not automatically trigger Article 5, nor does it obligate allies to participate.

NATO Secretary General Mark Rutte clarified, following an Iranian missile strike on Turkey, that the alliance had not considered invoking Article 5 underscoring the lack of legal grounds for collective intervention.

State Sovereignty and the Use of Bases

Beyond treaty constraints, the use of European bases and airspace is governed by bilateral agreements and parliamentary conditions.

Spain closed its airspace to U.S. aircraft heading to strike Iran, stating it would only allow the use of shared bases for “collective defense of NATO allies” and in accordance with international law.

Italy likewise refused to allow U.S. aircraft to land at Sigonella Air Base in Sicily without prior authorization, stressing that any use requires case-by-case approval.

These decisions stem from constitutional and sovereignty considerations. Article 11 of the NATO treaty allows states to determine the form of assistance consistent with their constitutional systems meaning national parliaments or courts may restrict participation in non-defensive wars.

France also refused to allow U.S. weapons shipments to transit through its airspace en route to Israel, reflecting the independence of its security decision-making.

Distinction Between Defense and Offensive Operations

NATO was created to deter direct threats to member territories, and most of its resources remain geared toward countering potential Russian aggression.

Allies therefore distinguish between a “collective defense war” triggered by a direct attack and an “offensive war” conducted by the United States outside the alliance’s framework.

When Washington asked European states to send naval forces to secure the Strait of Hormuz and “open” maritime routes, European governments agreed this exceeded NATO’s mandate. International law grants them the right to abstain from operations that could be deemed unlawful.

German President Frank-Walter Steinmeier described the war as a “catastrophic mistake” and a violation of international law. This distinction between defense and offense is thus a key constraint on cooperation with Washington.

Military and Security Factors

European Security Priorities and Capabilities

Europe views its primary security interest as deterring Russia and protecting its eastern flank, rather than engaging in a Gulf war. European military elites fear that opening a distant front would drain resources allocated to Ukraine and national defense.

A report by the International Institute for Strategic Studies (IISS) notes that European governments have distanced themselves from the Iran campaign and called for a return to diplomacy, viewing the war as evidence of the unpredictability of the Trump administration.

According to the same report, European states limit themselves to defensive or logistical support—such as allowing limited use of bases for targeting missile platforms while rejecting offensive participation.

Depletion of Defense Stockpiles

The war with Iran has consumed vast quantities of U.S. interceptor and air defense missiles, which were already in short supply, according to the Center for Strategic and International Studies (CSIS).

During the June 2025 conflict, the United States reportedly launched around 150 THAAD missiles—roughly a quarter of the Pentagon’s inventory—with estimates suggesting 20–50% of certain stockpiles were depleted.

Renewed fighting has further drained PAC-3 and SM-3 missile reserves, forcing the U.S. to redeploy defensive systems from other theaters.

Europe, heavily reliant on these systems for its own defense and for supporting Ukraine, sees such shortages as a direct threat to its ability to deter Russia—making the opening of another front highly risky.

As a result, European security institutions have called for urgent programs to boost domestic missile production, including systems like SAMP/T and NASAMS.

Risk of Regional Escalation

Entering a full-scale war with Iran raises the likelihood of the conflict expanding to target European bases and vessels in the Middle East or the Mediterranean.

Europol has warned that the Middle East conflict could have “immediate repercussions” for European security, including potential attacks or cyber operations by Iran-linked groups within the bloc.

European leaders also fear asymmetric responses, such as targeting commercial or energy interests or activating proxy networks in Syria, Iraq, and Lebanon.

This risk has led European alliances to favor protecting maritime navigation and commercial shipping through multinational missions rather than direct confrontation.

France has proposed, in coordination with Asian and Gulf states, a maritime security coalition in the Strait of Hormuz independent of U.S. command.

Economic and Energy Factors

Energy Shock and Inflation

The war has partially disrupted the Strait of Hormuz, driving sharp increases in oil and gas prices. Roughly 20% of global oil passes through the strait.

A Reuters report notes that European gas prices have surged by more than 70% since the conflict began, prompting the EU to reconsider crisis measures introduced in 2022, such as price caps and windfall taxes.

EU Energy Commissioner Dan Jørgensen warned that the crisis could persist even with a ceasefire due to infrastructure damage, urging countries to delay refinery maintenance to preserve fuel supplies.

The EU depends on the Middle East for about 15% of its jet fuel, raising concerns about shortages and price spikes.

This shock comes as Europe’s economy is already slowing. European Commission analysts warn that rising energy prices could reduce growth by 0.4–0.6 percentage points and increase inflation by about one percentage point—raising fears of stagflation.

In Germany, inflation has already risen to 2.7% due to fuel costs, with economists predicting broader price increases across sectors. These pressures make governments wary of entering a war that would further inflate energy costs and strain public finances.

Fragility of the Energy Transition

Despite expanding renewable energy, Europe remains heavily dependent on imported oil and gas.

Reuters analysis indicates gas prices have risen by more than 60%, with supply disruptions forcing governments to delay some climate policies and continue relying on U.S. liquefied natural gas.

Some countries may need to ease environmental restrictions or introduce tax relief to shield consumers. There are also concerns about shortages of kerosene and diesel affecting aviation and transport, disrupting trade and tourism, and straining supply chains.

Given these challenges, European policymakers prefer to stay out of the war to avoid exacerbating price pressures and prolonging the crisis, while focusing on diversifying energy sources and accelerating the transition to renewables.

Political, Domestic, and Alliance Factors

Public Opinion and Internal Divisions

European societies show clear opposition to the war:

• A YouGov poll in the UK found 49% opposed the war on Iran, compared to 28% in support.

• In Spain, 68% opposed the war.

• Germany’s ARD DeutschlandTrend poll showed 58% opposition.

These figures, combined with the legacy of interventions in Iraq, Libya, and Afghanistan, have made parliaments and political parties cautious.

Even some far-right parties that previously supported Trump have shifted positions and criticized him. The leader of Germany’s Alternative for Germany party warned that Trump would end up as a “war president.”

European politicians thus fear losing voter support if they drag their countries into an unpopular conflict.

Concerns Over Dependency and Power Politics

European governments are reluctant to appear subordinate to U.S. or Israeli decisions they do not control.

Spanish Deputy Prime Minister María Jesús Montero stated that her country would not be “under anyone’s tutelage” and would defend its values despite Trump’s trade threats.

Germany, France, and the UK are trying to balance maintaining the transatlantic alliance with preserving strategic autonomy, emphasizing that the Trump administration neither consulted them nor presented a clear war plan.

Differences in views over regime change in Iran further deepen European concerns about the war’s true objectives.

In light of these factors, maintaining neutrality has emerged as the most rational choice for Western allies allowing them to safeguard their interests and stability while continuing to support collective defense operations without turning NATO into a vehicle for offensive wars.

As the US-Israeli war on Iran enters its second month, the issue of “espionage” and “collaboration with the enemy” has taken on an expanded role in Iran’s official discourse, becoming a direct component of domestic governance under the pressure of external confrontation.

No longer framed as a limited security matter, the issue is now presented as a tool to safeguard the “home front” during wartime. Authorities argue that such strictness is necessary to prevent information from reaching adversaries, while human rights advocates contend that the war has provided cover to broaden pre-existing surveillance and punitive mechanisms.

From redefining danger to expanding the law

1. Redefining espionage and internal threat

With the outbreak of war, Iran’s official rhetoric has portrayed the confrontation as an existential battle that extends beyond military strikes to include infiltration, unrest, and providing internal cover for the enemy.

Within this framework, authorities have expanded the definition of certain acts. “Espionage” is no longer limited to the transfer of military secrets, but now includes:

• Sharing coordinates of targeted locations

• Publishing images of damage

• Relaying information to foreign media outlets

• Certain forms of photography and online posting

  

2. The 2025 law: an existing text with an expanded function

This expansion did not begin from scratch with the 2026 war. In June 2025, following a 12-day confrontation with Tel Aviv, parliament passed a law classifying certain forms of cooperation with “Israel” or hostile states as “corruption on earth.”

Judiciary chief Gholamhossein Mohseni Ejei justified the move by arguing that the war had exposed legal gaps that needed to be addressed, while supporters said the law was essential to counter drones and cyberattacks.

With the current war, this legal framework appears to have taken on a broader role. On March 31, judiciary spokesperson Asghar Jahangir stated that the amended law allows for:

• The death penalty

• Asset confiscation

• Considering the publication of photos or videos as a form of intelligence cooperation

On March 9, the Public Prosecutor’s Office confirmed that the assets of those assisting the “enemy” could be confiscated, whether they reside inside or outside the country.

This expansion has sparked clear opposition. According to an analysis by the National Iranian American Council (NIAC), the law broadens the interpretation of “corruption on earth” to include technical and media cooperation with the United States or “Israel,” potentially elevating penalties to execution or long-term imprisonment.

Similarly, 57 Iranian legal experts warned of a “legal catastrophe” due to the vague definition of espionage, while the United Nations cautioned that parliament had expanded the death penalty to include “spreading false information” on social media.

Tightening control on the ground

The expansion has not been limited to rhetoric and legislation; it has been implemented through arrests, searches, surveillance, and punishment.

1. Arrests and charges

On March 17, 2026, police chief Ahmad Reza Radan announced that 500 individuals had been arrested since the start of the war on charges of “sharing information with enemies,” warning that possession of Starlink devices could expose owners to the harshest penalties.

On March 24, police reported the arrest of 466 individuals over online activities deemed threatening to national security. The judiciary spokesperson added that around 200 indictments had been issued.

Reuters, citing judicial sources, reported that:

• Those accused of espionage may face execution and asset confiscation

• More than 1,000 people were arrested over images or content considered harmful to national security

Meanwhile, the rights group Hengaw stated that 1,700 people were arrested between February 28 and March 26.

2. Prosecutions and trials

Authorities have not stopped at arrests; they have emphasized faster prosecutions and the implementation of sentences. Reuters quoted the deputy head of the judiciary as saying that cases related to detainees from the January 2026 protests had been concluded and that sentences would be carried out, stressing that there would be “no mercy” for those cooperating with the enemy.

Human Rights Watch reported that the government established “special courts” to try “traitors” and urged parliament to expedite executions.

3. The Basij and checkpoints

The Basij militia has emerged as a key field instrument in controlling the streets. On March 30, Reuters reported that authorities had set up checkpoints inside cities and at their entrances. A Revolutionary Guard official, Rahim Nadali, indicated that the minimum age for volunteers had been lowered to 12 due to personnel shortages.

According to Human Rights Watch, these checkpoints have been used to:

• Search cars, phones, and pedestrians

• Arrest individuals suspected of sharing anti-government content

The UN fact-finding mission documented arrests based on phone content and incidents of gunfire targeting vehicles attempting to evade checkpoints.

4. Digital surveillance and punishment

Digital surveillance reveals that the current crackdown did not begin with the war, although the conflict has provided additional justification. Since January 8, 2026, authorities have imposed a near-total internet shutdown following widespread protests. As the war continues:

• Hundreds of Starlink devices have been confiscated

• Authorities reiterated that their possession is illegal

• Reuters suggested that tens of thousands may have been smuggled into the country

• Penalties for users have been intensified

In addition, authorities have spoken of confiscating the assets of “collaborators,” while Human Rights Watch warned of accelerated executions. The UN fact-finding mission noted an “unprecedented rise” in executions.

After the war… what is the regime trying to prevent?

The official justification ties these measures to wartime needs and protecting the home front. However, several indicators suggest that the objective extends beyond managing the current military moment to shaping the post-war phase.

Reuters, citing sources inside Iran, reported that authorities are concerned not only with wartime dynamics but also with what may follow once strikes cease—particularly as Iranians confront a devastated economy. As a result, some measures appear aimed at preventing a future internal explosion, including:

• Deploying the Basij in the streets and restricting opposition access to public space

• Threatening to confiscate the assets of Iranians abroad

• Lowering the recruitment age for the Basij

• Maintaining digital restrictions and online surveillance

Human rights organizations such as Human Rights Watch and Amnesty International argue that the regime is leveraging wartime conditions to expand its security and surveillance apparatus. They have documented the arrests of lawyers, journalists, and activists, and warned of the targeting of Kurdish, Arab, Baha’i, and Christian minorities under accusations of “espionage” and “mercenarism.”

Ultimately, what the war has changed in Iran is not only the level of severity, but also the definition of what constitutes espionage or collaboration with the enemy.

While the state maintains that it is protecting the home front, critics argue that it is expanding mechanisms of control that extend beyond the war itself. The current crackdown thus appears less like a temporary wartime measure and more like a durable security architecture poised to endure.

Amid the smoke of a widening conflict between Iran, the United States, and Israel, Pakistan has abruptly stepped forward as a self-appointed intermediary particularly as the flames of confrontation begin to lick the edges of the Gulf states.

This time, the mediator’s chair is not occupied by Oman, Qatar, or a European power, but by a South Asian nation that shares a long border with Iran, maintains security ties with Riyadh and Washington, and notably hosts no American military bases.

Islamabad’s emergence at this moment raises a complex question: are we witnessing a fleeting diplomatic role imposed by war and the collapse of traditional channels, or a deliberate Pakistani effort to redefine its position between Tehran, Washington, the Gulf, and the wider maritime arena?

Why Pakistan Now?

Pakistan’s sudden appearance as a mediator is no coincidence, but rather the product of a convergence of specific circumstances.

First, Pakistan shares a roughly 900-kilometer land border with Iran, inhabited by Baloch tribes that move across both sides. The collapse of the Iranian state, therefore, threatens to turn this frontier into an ungoverned space a scenario Islamabad warned of in June 2025, when a 12-day confrontation erupted between Tehran and Tel Aviv.

At the time, Pakistan’s army chief, Asim Munir, reportedly told U.S. President Donald Trump that chaos in Iran would embolden what he described as “Baloch separatist groups” along the border to launch attacks inside Pakistan making de-escalation an urgent priority.

Second, Pakistan maintains a rare balance in its relations with both Washington and Tehran. Since 1979, it has hosted an Iranian interests section within its embassy in Washington, preserving a legal channel for communication even after formal diplomatic ties were severed.

That legacy has regained relevance during the current conflict. Reuters reported that Pakistani officials relayed at least six messages between the United States and Iran in the early weeks of the war.

At the same time, the government of Shehbaz Sharif and the military establishment have strengthened ties with the Trump administration through meetings at the White House, providing Islamabad with direct access to U.S. decision-making circles.

Third, Pakistan is not a party to the ongoing military confrontation. While it maintains a defense agreement with Saudi Arabia, it hosts no U.S. bases. Although Washington and Riyadh have previously sought logistical support, Islamabad has consistently refused to allow foreign troops on its soil.

From Tehran’s perspective, this relative neutrality gives Pakistan more distance than Qatar or Oman, both of which host U.S. military facilities. Moreover, Pakistan does not recognize Israel, facilitating communication with Iran. It is also home to the world’s second-largest Shiite population after Iran, making it particularly sensitive to the war’s repercussions.

Fourth, domestically, Pakistan’s economy remains fragile especially in the energy sector. Most of its fuel supplies pass through the Strait of Hormuz.

When Iran closed the strait at the onset of the war, prices surged, sparking protests across Pakistani cities. The government responded by shutting schools for two weeks and cutting fuel consumption in state institutions to manage the crisis making the reopening of the strait an urgent national priority.

What Does Islamabad Seek from Mediation?

Pakistani officials have framed their efforts around “ending the war” and promoting “dialogue and diplomacy.” Yet a closer look at their interests reveals a set of layered motivations:

1. Preventing the war from spilling inward:
Warnings about the Iran border turning into an ungoverned zone underscore a powerful security concern. Islamabad is already battling the Pakistani Taliban and conducting strikes inside Afghanistan; it has no appetite for opening another front with Baloch groups potentially energized by Iranian instability.

2. Safeguarding energy supplies and trade:
After the closure of Hormuz, Pakistan asked Saudi Arabia to reroute part of its oil shipments through the Red Sea port of Yanbu, as most imports had previously passed through the strait. The government also imposed austerity measures to manage the fuel crisis.

The immediate goal of Pakistan’s diplomatic push, therefore, is either to reopen the maritime corridor or establish alternative arrangements ensuring the steady flow of oil and goods. This is reflected in proposals Islamabad has floated with Turkey, Egypt, and Saudi Arabia to form a coalition to manage the strait or introduce toll mechanisms akin to the Suez Canal.

3. Boosting its standing with Washington and the Gulf:
Analysts suggest Islamabad is leveraging mediation to strengthen ties with the United States. A report by the Center for a New American Security (CNAS) noted that a successful mediation effort would provide Pakistan with a “significant boost” in relations with the Trump administration after years of strain.

At the same time, the Pakistani military is positioning itself as a reliable partner for Saudi Arabia, Turkey, and Egypt in preventing the conflict’s expansion potentially unlocking economic and political support from Gulf allies.

4. Converting geography into logistical influence:
Another theory holds that Islamabad seeks to capitalize on disrupted shipping routes by promoting its Arabian Sea ports as alternative corridors.

Indeed, reports indicate that in October 2025, the Pakistani military presented Washington with a plan to build a new port in Pasni, Balochistan, granting U.S. investors access to Pakistan’s mineral resources.

The proposal excludes the establishment of U.S. military bases and instead focuses on linking the port to railway lines across western Pakistan.

Leverage and Limits of Mediation

Pakistan’s ability to play a mediating role rests on several assets but also faces clear constraints.

Strengths

1. Multiple communication channels:
Islamabad benefits from open lines of communication with both Washington and Tehran. Its personal connections with figures in the White House such as special envoy Steve Witkoff and Jared Kushner alongside its hosting of Iran’s interests section, allow it to transmit messages quickly between the two sides.

2. Relative trust from all parties:
Pakistan’s refusal to host U.S. bases and its cautious approach toward Iran have earned it a degree of credibility. Tehran’s decision to allow twenty Pakistan-flagged vessels to pass through the strait in late March signaled goodwill.

Simultaneously, Pakistan’s defense ties with Saudi Arabia and close relations with Turkey and Egypt position it to convene Arab and Muslim actors at the same table.

Still, this trust remains limited. Iran is demanding guarantees against attacks, compensation, and control over the strait conditions that complicate any settlement beyond Pakistan’s capacity alone.

3. Chinese backing and regional alignments:
China has endorsed Pakistan’s initiative, issuing a joint five-point plan calling for an immediate ceasefire and respect for freedom of navigation in the Strait of Hormuz.

While this support strengthens Islamabad’s hand, it also ties mediation to Beijing’s interests particularly its heavy investments in Gwadar port and the China–Pakistan Economic Corridor. Any escalation in Iran could threaten these projects, prompting China to act behind the scenes.

Key Challenges

1. Limited leverage:
Pakistan lacks the military and economic tools needed to impose an agreement on the warring parties. It remains economically dependent on Gulf aid and Chinese support, and its naval capabilities are modest. Meanwhile, armed groups along its borders expose it to instability if the conflict drags on.

Even proposals about managing the strait would require approval from major powers such as the United States, Iran, and Saudi Arabia suggesting Islamabad’s role may remain confined to backchannel diplomacy until a broader settlement emerges.

2. An uncertain timeframe:
There is a real possibility that Pakistan’s role is temporary, born of the breakdown of traditional mediation channels.

Although Islamabad has hosted meetings involving Turkey, Egypt, and Saudi Arabia to develop proposals on Hormuz, it has yet to secure formal commitments from Washington or Tehran for direct talks.

Meanwhile, countries such as Iraq and Oman are seeking to re-enter the diplomatic arena. Pakistan’s role could therefore fade as soon as established mediation tracks are restored or if positions harden on both sides.

While oil and maritime chokepoints dominated headlines during the U.S.-Israeli war on Iran, another, less visible resource carried consequences no less severe for advanced industries: helium.

This gas, seemingly peripheral to non-specialists, is produced by Qatar at roughly one-third of global supply. It is indispensable to advanced semiconductor manufacturing, where it is used in highly specialized processes that are difficult to substitute.

When the war struck facilities in Ras Laffan and disrupted navigation through the Strait of Hormuz, the story ceased to be a minor disturbance in a niche gas market. Instead, it became a stress test for the fragility of supply chains underpinning sensitive technology industries. How, then, did a colorless, tasteless gas become a strategic choke point?

From Marginal Gas to Hidden Lifeline of Chips

The importance of helium for semiconductors and AI

Advanced chip manufacturing depends on stable, chemically inert environments, as well as precise cooling methods for tools and wafers during production stages.

Helium is used in core processes such as plasma etching, chemical vapor deposition, and wafer backside cooling, enabling precise thermal control and preventing damage to ultra-fine circuits. It is also employed in leak detection testing and in protecting certain optical components within high-precision photolithography systems.

There are no commercially viable alternatives that combine helium’s chemical inertness with its superior thermal conductivity. In 2023, the Semiconductor Industry Association warned that helium’s unique properties make it a critical element in chip production.

Its importance is further underscored by the artificial intelligence boom. Data centers rely on high-performance advanced chips, and any disruption in helium supply threatens their production placing pressure on global plans to expand computing capacity.

Why Qatar Sits at the Center of the Market

Helium is not extracted independently; it is recovered during the liquefaction of natural gas.

At Ras Laffan Industrial City, QatarEnergy operates three units: Helium 1 and Helium 2, launched between 2013 and 2017 with a combined capacity of 62 million cubic meters annually, and Helium 3, which began operations in 2024.

According to the U.S. Geological Survey (USGS), Qatar produced approximately 63 million cubic meters of helium in 2025 about one-third of global output of 190 million cubic meters.

The United States produces around 81 million cubic meters annually but consumes most of it domestically, making Qatar the world’s largest exporter. The concentration of production within a single complex means that any disruption in gas liquefaction halts all helium flows.

How War Turned Fragility into Crisis

Strikes on Ras Laffan and force majeure

On March 18, 2026, Iranian missiles struck the Ras Laffan complex, a key site for gas and helium production, damaging parts of its infrastructure.

QatarEnergy reported that roughly 14% of helium capacity at Ras Laffan was taken offline, with repairs potentially taking up to five years.

With the outbreak of war in late February, the company halted production at LNG facilities totaling 77 million tons annually and declared force majeure on shipments a legal clause allowing the suspension of contractual obligations due to extraordinary events.

Qatar’s Energy Minister, Saad al-Kaabi, stated that a return to normal production could take weeks to months even if the war were to end immediately.

Closure of the Strait of Hormuz and Vanishing Options

Beyond physical damage, the war led to a near-total closure of the Strait of Hormuz, through which roughly 20% of global oil trade and most LNG exports pass.

Helium is primarily exported alongside LNG shipments via Hormuz, making maritime logistics a critical part of its supply chain. With shipping halted, cargoes were stranded in ports or containers, leading to the evaporation of part of the stock due to shelf-life limits.

Most helium is sold in liquid form and transported in pressurized containers, but it has a shelf life of about 45 days before it evaporates, limiting long-term storage. The Ras Laffan disruption thus evolved into a dual shock: declining production and the loss of in-transit inventory.

Reuters reports that the market is losing 5.2 million cubic meters of helium per month due to the disruption, noting that supply shocks unfold gradually as prices do not immediately reflect changes in availability confusing buyers and complicating storage strategies.

Kornbluth Helium Consulting indicated that spot prices have doubled since the crisis began. Analysts suggest a 30-day disruption could push prices up by 10–20%, while a 60–90 day interruption may drive increases of 25–50%.

Who Feels the Shock First?

Asia: Limited stockpiles, massive demand

East Asia is the largest consumer of helium due to its concentration of advanced semiconductor manufacturing.

On March 5, a South Korean lawmaker warned that the war could disrupt supplies of critical materials such as helium. However, SK Hynix stated it maintains diversified supply chains and sufficient inventory, while TSMC said it does not expect immediate impact but is monitoring the situation.

By March 31, South Korean government sources indicated that Samsung and SK Hynix held enough stock to last until June, with companies paying premiums to secure supply from the United States. The real risk, they warned, would emerge in the second half of 2026 if the crisis persists.

In Taiwan, the Ministry of Economic Affairs said supplies remain stable thanks to U.S. imports and storage technologies. Air Liquide confirmed it would reallocate helium from other regions.

Malaysia, a hub for chip assembly and testing, noted that companies rely on stockpiles and diversified sourcing and that some processes can use nitrogen instead, reducing helium exposure.

Europe: Gas Firms Between Risk and Alternatives

Europe consumes helium across medical and industrial sectors, relying on companies such as Air Liquide and Linde.

An Air Liquide executive acknowledged short-term shortages but said the company is reallocating supply globally and coordinating with clients.

With more than 60 semiconductor-related sites in Taiwan and storage caverns in Europe, the firm has some resilience. However, rising prices and tightening supply will still affect Europe especially under force majeure conditions.

Suppliers are likely to prioritize critical uses such as MRI machines and aerospace, while chipmakers may receive most of their needs, with deeper cuts applied to lower-priority uses.

Washington and North America: Strain Despite Production

The United States produces over 81 million cubic meters of helium annually and stores it in underground caverns in Texas, giving it near self-sufficiency.

However, some companies depend on Qatari imports (28% of imports between 2021–2024), exposing them to price increases particularly industrial gas firms that stopped drawing from strategic reserves after the U.S. federal helium reserve was sold in 2024.

Air Products’ CEO said the company will rely on inventories and boost output at U.S. plants to mitigate the crisis.

While North America may benefit from higher prices allowing firms such as ExxonMobil and North American Helium to offset part of the shortfall export capacity remains constrained by strong domestic demand and limited infrastructure.

The U.S.-Israeli war on Iran has ignited a global debate over the meaning of nuclear deterrence in the 21st century, raising fears of renewed nuclear proliferation. The underlying premise is stark: a state that possesses nuclear deterrence or comes close to it is far harder to “break.”

Western media have summarized the current mood by suggesting that the war on Iran’s nuclear program is “accelerating a shift” that could reshape global security, as more countries begin to contemplate acquiring nuclear weapons.

Does this signal a return to the logic that “nuclear equals survival,” or has the war exposed a deeper crisis in the non-proliferation regime? This report seeks to unpack the Iranian lesson and track the most significant shifts.

Lessons from Iran

Iran did not possess a declared nuclear weapon when the war began, but it was widely considered a “threshold state,” with large stockpiles of enriched uranium and advanced industrial capabilities. For years, Tehran’s strategy had been to approach nuclear capability without crossing the red line thus avoiding additional sanctions while remaining within treaty bounds.

Following the killing of Supreme Leader Ali Khamenei and the consolidation of power by the Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps, hardliners argued that this strategy had failed. Reuters, citing internal sources, reported that some leaders now “want to withdraw from the Nuclear Non-Proliferation Treaty (NPT) and build the bomb,” arguing that Iran had paid the price for not possessing nuclear weapons.

The same source noted that no official decision has been made and that the debate could serve as a negotiating tool to extract stronger guarantees. Still, the mere fact that such discussions are taking place marks a qualitative shift. Iranian official rhetoric has also grown more suggestive of nuclear deterrence.

Politicians have indicated that Khamenei’s fatwa prohibiting nuclear weapons “was tied to historical circumstances and could be reconsidered,” while media outlets close to the Revolutionary Guard have published arguments defending Iran’s right to withdraw from the treaty if its security is threatened.

At the same time, a more pragmatic faction within the establishment maintains that openly declaring nuclear capability would trigger international isolation and provide Washington with a pretext for more extensive strikes.

This camp advocates maintaining Iran’s threshold status while leveraging the war for political gains suggesting that Tehran’s debate remains unresolved.

Global Reactions: A Different Reading

Outside Iran, interpretations have diverged. North Korean leader Kim Jong Un who commands an estimated arsenal of around 50 nuclear warheads told his country’s parliament that “today’s international reality, where sovereignty is brutally violated by force, teaches us the true guarantee of a state’s existence and peace.”

Kim framed his nuclear arsenal as “self-deterrence” that must be strengthened, arguing that it has allowed North Korea to allocate resources toward development rather than war. Analysts in Seoul viewed his remarks as indirect criticism of the strikes on Iran: had Tehran possessed nuclear weapons, it might not have been attacked.

This interpretation echoes in other capitals. Iraq, Libya, and Ukraine all experienced regime change despite previous nuclear programs or after relinquishing their weapons reinforcing the belief among some elites that nuclear arms are the ultimate insurance policy for regime survival.

The argument has gained further traction following the war on Iran, which unfolded at a moment of unprecedented weakness in the non-proliferation system especially after the expiration of the New START treaty and amid growing skepticism toward U.S. security guarantees, according to Chatham House.

The think tank also highlighted the immense costs of nuclear competition, potential sanctions, and the technical challenges of weapons development. It suggested that a “threshold status under a deterrence umbrella” may be a more realistic short-term option, and that the war has exposed—not caused—an already existing crisis.

Where Have Calculations Shifted?

The war on Iran, combined with doubts about Washington’s commitment to its allies, has triggered unprecedented debates:

France:

On March 2, 2026, Paris announced plans to “strengthen the French nuclear arsenal” and allow the deployment of nuclear-capable aircraft in partner European countries under what it termed “forward deterrence.”

President Emmanuel Macron signaled readiness to include Germany, Greece, Poland, Belgium, the Netherlands, Denmark, and Sweden in joint nuclear exercises, while emphasizing that any decision to use nuclear weapons would remain exclusively in French hands.

This marks a shift from France’s traditional doctrine of “national deterrence,” reflecting Europe’s search for alternative security guarantees amid tensions with U.S. President Donald Trump’s administration and its rapprochement with Russia.

Germany:

Chancellor Friedrich Merz’s government agreed to establish a high-level “steering group” with Paris to coordinate nuclear policies and participate in joint exercises moves interpreted by Reuters as efforts to reduce reliance on Washington.

Merz stressed, however, that any European arrangements would complement not replace U.S. protection, and reaffirmed Germany’s commitment to the NPT.

Poland:

Prime Minister Donald Tusk stated that Warsaw seeks to “develop advanced nuclear deterrence capabilities” in cooperation with France and other allies, while also investing in nuclear energy infrastructure to preserve “freedom of maneuver.”

Previously, President Andrzej Duda had called for hosting U.S. nuclear weapons in Poland.

Japan:

A senior security official’s call in December 2025 for Japan to acquire nuclear weapons sparked a political storm.

The government quickly reaffirmed its adherence to the three non-nuclear principles—no possession, no production, and no hosting of nuclear weapons. However, Reuters noted a growing number of lawmakers advocating a reassessment of these principles, including allowing the redeployment of U.S. nuclear weapons on Japanese soil.

Some parliamentarians reportedly believe Japan could produce a nuclear bomb within six months if its alliance with Washington collapses.

Public opinion remains highly sensitive due to the legacy of Hiroshima, and there are no official plans for nuclearization. The Iran conflict has, in fact, strengthened those favoring reliance on the U.S. umbrella combined with enhanced conventional capabilities.

South Korea:

After receiving a green light from Trump in 2025 to develop nuclear-powered submarines, Seoul launched a program to improve monitoring of North Korea.

Officials insist the submarines do not signal nuclear weapons ambitions and reaffirm compliance with the NPT. Still, experts warn the move could fuel a regional arms race and pressure Japan to follow suit.

Public debate over acquiring a domestic nuclear deterrent persists, with polls showing increased support if U.S. commitments weaken. For now, the government remains aligned with Washington.

The Gulf:

In February 2026, Trump informed Congress of efforts to finalize a civilian nuclear agreement that would allow the United States to provide Saudi Arabia with nuclear technology without imposing traditional restrictions on uranium enrichment and fuel reprocessing.

U.S. lawmakers have called for applying the “gold standard” to prevent the civilian program from becoming a pathway to nuclear weapons, warning that the proposed deal could enable uranium enrichment and spark a regional arms race.

Crown Prince Mohammed bin Salman has repeatedly stated that Saudi Arabia would pursue nuclear weapons if Iran acquires them. While no official decision has been made, the war has strengthened arguments within the kingdom for a clear deterrence umbrella either through alliance with Washington or an indigenous program.

These developments suggest that the line between civilian cooperation and military pathways may become one of the most critical tests of the non-proliferation regime in the region.

Is the Non-Proliferation System Eroding?

The U.S.-Russian New START treaty expired in February 2026 after its sole extension was exhausted, with no new agreement reached.

Its absence removes binding constraints on the world’s two largest nuclear arsenals, fueling fears of a renewed arms race. This development is part of a broader shift undermining the non-proliferation regime:

• China is building what analysts say could become the world’s third-largest nuclear arsenal within a decade.

• Russia has suspended participation in inspection talks due to the war in Ukraine.

• France is preparing to expand its arsenal in partnership with European allies.

• The United States is engaged in internal debate over resuming nuclear testing.

Thomas DiNanno, Assistant Secretary of State for Arms Control, told the Senate that the Trump administration is still evaluating how to implement the president’s directive to resume testing “on par with others,” without ruling out underground tests.

Arms control experts warn such a move could prompt Russia and China to follow suit, undermining the Comprehensive Nuclear-Test-Ban Treaty.

Meanwhile, Admiral Richard Correll, head of U.S. Strategic Command, has emphasized that existing reports confirm the safety of the U.S. arsenal and that no field testing is necessary highlighting internal divisions within the administration and broader concerns about the erosion of long-standing red lines.

European efforts to expand France’s nuclear deterrence raise another dilemma: will a broader European nuclear umbrella enhance stability, or weaken the global regime?

NATO notes that roughly 100 U.S. nuclear bombs remain deployed across Germany, Italy, Belgium, the Netherlands, and Turkey under nuclear-sharing arrangements, with ongoing modernization efforts.

However, countries such as the Netherlands and Sweden warn that increased emphasis on nuclear weapons could sideline investment in conventional capabilities and cast doubt on Europe’s commitment to disarmament.

In this context, the war appears less as a singular cause and more as a catalyst exposing accumulated pressures: declining trust in U.S. guarantees, renewed great-power competition, and the erosion of international institutions.

Who would have imagined that Cairo a city accustomed to staying awake until dawn, its nights long resembling day under a blaze of lights could dim in this way? That millions of Egyptians would find themselves compelled to return home early, or at least abandon their nightly routines of leisure and strolling, after most entertainment venues and commercial outlets were shuttered save for pharmacies and essential goods stores under austerity measures driven by electricity pressures amid ongoing regional escalation?

From the very first day of the U.S.-Israeli war on Iran in late February, Egypt appeared to have been thrust into the heart of the confrontation, despite not being a direct party to it. The initial reverberations of the conflict did not take long to strike the Egyptian economy, with their effects gradually seeping into the lives of ordinary citizens those now bearing the cost of a crisis they had no hand in creating.

The structural fragility of Egypt’s economy, combined with its geographic proximity to the theater of operations, has made Cairo one of the capitals most exposed to the trajectories and outcomes of this war.

With each new escalation, the national economy appears increasingly vulnerable to external shocks and less capable of withstanding disruptions that span energy, trade, shipping, and investment turning any broad regional tension into a severe test of the state’s resilience and containment capacity.

Although the Egyptian government swiftly moved at the outset of the war to activate what it described as a “crisis room” in an effort to absorb the fallout and limit potential losses, the outcomes proved harsher than many had anticipated. Egyptians suddenly found themselves in the direct line of economic fire, paying the price of a conflict that is not theirs.

This heavy toll has been compounded by the absence of clear strategic visions and the persistence of flawed monetary and economic policies pursued in recent years, which have constrained the economy’s ability to absorb shocks or maneuver through major crises.

Energy… The First Shock

In a country that relies on imports to cover roughly one-third of its energy needs, it was only natural for a war of this magnitude to leave an immediate mark on the domestic energy market. Supply chain disruptions, compounded by impaired navigation through the Strait of Hormuz through which roughly a fifth of global oil and liquefied natural gas trade passes alongside sharp increases in international prices, have placed Egypt’s market under significant strain in recent weeks.

This was reflected in the rise of Brent crude prices from $73 per barrel before the war to $105 as of Sunday, March 29 an increase exceeding 45% compared to the previous month driving up import costs.

The situation was further exacerbated when Israel halted natural gas exports to Egypt from the Tamar and Leviathan fields in the eastern Mediterranean, cutting off supplies estimated at around 1.1 billion cubic feet per day. Although flows later resumed, they remained below agreed levels under bilateral agreements.

This turbulence pushed Egypt’s petroleum import bill to approximately $2.5 billion this month, compared to $1.2 billion in January, prompting the government to adopt exceptional measures to rationalize energy consumption.

In this context, the Ministry of Electricity and Renewable Energy has been compelled to implement a plan aimed at reducing natural gas consumption in power plants by around 100 million cubic feet per day by 2026, partly through expanding reliance on renewable energy sources as an alternative.

The challenge is compounded by the fact that natural gas remains the backbone of Egypt’s electricity sector, accounting for between 75% and 82% of total generation capacity. Any disruption in supply or forced reduction in reliance inevitably affects grid stability, industrial activity, and production lines, turning the current energy crisis into not merely a technical challenge but a comprehensive economic test.

Currency and Gold Markets… The Fastest Rebound

The second and most immediate shock emerged in the currency market. Within hours of the war’s outbreak, the Egyptian pound came under pressure, with the dollar rising from around EGP 46.6 to nearly EGP 53.4 within a month, reflecting mounting market anxiety over renewed strain on the local currency after a brief period of relative stability.

In parallel, the domestic gold market surged as a traditional safe haven during times of uncertainty. Prices jumped by approximately EGP 500 ($9.5) per gram, signaling a shift in public behavior toward precautionary savings.

By Sunday, March 29, the price of 24-karat gold had exceeded EGP 7,915 ($152.2) per gram, while 21-karat reached EGP 7,254 ($139.6), and 18-karat stood at EGP 5,935 ($114). These figures underscore how the war’s impact has extended beyond macroeconomic indicators into the daily financial realities of citizens.

Suez Canal… Mounting Losses

The Suez Canal remains one of the most exposed economic fronts to regional escalation. As a vital artery of the Egyptian economy and a major source of foreign currency, it is highly sensitive not only to global trade flows but also to shifts in the security landscape of the Red Sea and surrounding region.

With recent escalations including attacks on vessels in the Strait of Hormuz and rising threats to Red Sea navigation the canal faces growing pressure at a particularly delicate moment for Egypt’s economy.

President Abdel Fattah el-Sisi recently stated that the canal is incurring monthly losses of approximately $800 million due to regional instability, with total losses in 2024 alone nearing $7 billion in revenue. These figures highlight the canal’s position at the forefront of sectors impacted by ongoing maritime disruptions.

As concerns mount over the potential escalation in the Bab el-Mandeb Strait, particularly with Houthi involvement, pressures on the canal are expected to intensify further, potentially leading to greater revenue declines and broader economic repercussions.

The Everyday Economy in the Crosshairs

The war’s repercussions have not been confined to formal economic sectors. Beyond rising energy costs, declining canal revenues, currency volatility, and surging gold prices, the impact has extended—perhaps most painfully—to the everyday economy on which millions of Egyptians depend.

This sector suffered a major blow following the government’s decision to close shops, malls, entertainment venues, cafés, and restaurants at 9 p.m. as part of energy-saving measures. While framed as a necessary response to wartime pressures, the decision has had immediate and profound social and economic consequences.

In a country where nighttime activity is integral to economic and social life, evening hours represent peak business periods for many small enterprises. Early closures therefore translate into lost income, reduced wages, and heightened financial strain for millions already facing economic vulnerability.

The situation is further complicated by government moves to expand remote work or reduce working hours for some public sector employees measures that, while intended to curb consumption, raise questions about their broader economic and social costs.

Perhaps the most severe impact lies in rising inflation, fueled by disruptions in energy and currency markets, alongside successive price increases in goods and services. This comes in the wake of a significant fuel price hike on March 10, ranging between 14% and 17% one of the steepest increases in recent years.

Here, the true cost of war becomes evident: it is not only reflected in macroeconomic indicators but also in the daily lives of citizens, who once again find themselves paying the price of a crisis they did not create.

Ultimately, a country need not be a direct participant in war to bear its full cost. Economic fragility and policy inefficiencies alone are enough to place it at the heart of the storm.

In Egypt’s case, this reality is particularly stark. Once again, the ordinary citizen stands as the primary victim shouldering the burden of both domestic imbalances and regional turmoil, paying the price through daily hardship and economic insecurity.

In the wake of the U.S.-Israeli war on Iran, the long-standing image of American military bases in the Gulf as an unquestioned “protective umbrella” has begun to erode. In its place, a more complex reality has emerged one in which these bases offer deterrence, yet simultaneously expose their host countries to potential targeting.

This paradox has pushed a sensitive question to the forefront of debate across the Gulf: does the U.S. military presence still serve its original purpose, or has the war forced a reassessment of its role, limits, and the political, sovereign, and security costs it entails?

The Limits of the American “Umbrella”

The course of the war revealed the capacity of the United States and its allies to intercept many of the missiles and drones launched by Iran toward the Gulf. Yet it also exposed clear vulnerabilities.

In the early days, Iran struck all Gulf states, openly acknowledging that it targeted U.S. forces as a response to American involvement. While air defenses succeeded in intercepting most missiles, Iranian drones managed to hit airports, hotels, and tourist areas, inflicting significant economic damage.

The conflict led to the temporary closure of the Strait of Hormuz and the cancellation of approximately 40,000 flights, dealing a heavy blow to the Gulf’s tourism and service sectors. This reinforced the perception that American bases had placed economic hubs within the line of fire rather than shielding them.

Gulf experts argue that the war has “shaken” the longstanding assumption that purchasing hundreds of billions of dollars’ worth of U.S. weapons guarantees comprehensive protection.

Researcher Fawaz Gerges noted that Gulf states are likely to accelerate efforts to diversify their security partnerships, recognizing that they cannot rely solely on the United States to safeguard their oil and citizens.

Abdulaziz Sager, head of the Gulf Research Center, similarly argued that Washington failed to establish adequate protection measures for its allies or ensure the uninterrupted flow of oil and gas during the conflict, describing the economic toll on the Gulf as “devastating.”

Sovereignty and the Cost of Protection

The war has also reignited questions of sovereignty: do Gulf capitals truly control the operations launched from U.S. bases on their soil, or are they being drawn into conflicts beyond their decision-making power?

According to Gulf sources cited by Reuters, some Arab officials complained that the decision to go to war was made within a narrow circle in Washington, without proper coordination with allies leaving them to bear the consequences of decisions in which they had little say.

This sense of diminished sovereignty is compounded by economic realities. The closure of Hormuz and the suspension of aviation and maritime activity threaten investments worth hundreds of billions of dollars, while driving up insurance costs for oil tankers and airlines.

A report by the Institute for the Analysis of International Relations (IARI) observes that while U.S. bases provide deterrence, intelligence, and air defense capabilities, they also turn host countries into operational platforms making them legitimate targets in the eyes of Washington’s adversaries. The consequences of attacks extend far beyond the military sphere, impacting trade, finance, and tourism.

The Italian institute further notes that Iran’s targeting of these bases is intended to send a political message: that the cost of hosting U.S. forces may become socially and economically untenable.

In Gulf capitals, this message is increasingly interpreted through the lens of sovereignty as implicit consent to operations launched from their territory that may endanger their economies. Yet refusing cooperation could expose them to American pressure.

Ultimately, such strikes undermine the Gulf’s image as a safe investment destination, translating into tangible economic costs rising insurance premiums, declining tourism bookings, and delays in infrastructure projects.

Scenarios for the Future of U.S. Bases

1. Staying the Course with Recalibration

The most likely scenario is that U.S. bases remain, but with significant changes in their nature and function. According to IARI, the optimal approach is to treat these bases not as fixed targets but as nodes within a distributed defense network. This would involve strengthening missile and drone defense systems and expanding operational coordination between Washington and host nations.

Such a shift would require clear protocols governing the launch of operations from Gulf territory, ensuring that capitals are not blindsided by unilateral decisions.

Under this model, Gulf states would demand greater investment in advanced air defenses and a broader dispersal of military assets rather than their concentration in large, centralized bases.

2. Partnership on Gulf Terms

Another trajectory, highlighted in an Atlantic Council analysis, suggests that attacks on Gulf bases could push the United States into serious dialogue with its Gulf partners about the future of its military presence.

This could lead to a renegotiation of defense agreements, incorporating provisions that protect host countries from unilateral decision-making and enhance their role in planning and coordination.

In this scenario, some countries—such as Qatar—may opt to strengthen rather than scale back their security partnerships with Washington. As IARI notes, cooperation could expand to include cyber defense and the protection of civilian infrastructure.

3. Gradual Drawdown and Strategic Diversification

In some Gulf capitals, voices may grow louder in favor of gradually reducing reliance on U.S. bases in favor of national defense strategies and regional balancing policies.

Fawaz Gerges told Reuters that Gulf states are likely to diversify their security relationships, including strengthening ties with Europe and China to reduce dependence on Washington. Abdulaziz Sager likewise expects Gulf countries to develop their own capabilities to confront future crises.

IARI suggests that Iran’s strategy aims precisely to cultivate such doubts, potentially reinforcing the view that hosting U.S. forces creates more risks than protections.

This scenario aligns with ongoing efforts by countries such as Saudi Arabia and the UAE to expand indigenous defense programs, including domestic missile and drone production.

4. Domestic Contestation Over Legitimacy

The debate could escalate into internal political disputes over the legitimacy of hosting foreign bases. The Atlantic Council points to Israel’s August 2025 strike targeting Hamas members in Doha despite the presence of the largest U.S. base there as a moment that prompted Qataris to question the deterrent value of the American presence.

Should the war persist and economic losses mount, public and political pressure may intensify in some countries to reassess military agreements.

In such a scenario, calls could grow for the removal of foreign troops or at least for subjecting their presence to greater parliamentary oversight placing U.S. bases at the heart of a broader sovereignty debate.

Following the assassination of several top-tier Iranian commanders, many observers have been preoccupied with a pressing question: how did “Israel” manage to achieve such a deep level of penetration within a state saturated with security and surveillance?

The most striking paradox is that the very street cameras designed to tighten control over Iranian society appear, in wartime, to have been repurposed into an intelligence asset one suspected of aiding the enemy in tracking, monitoring, and identifying targets.

Western reports, particularly from the Associated Press and the Financial Times, have pointed to an Israeli breach of Tehran’s traffic camera network, allegedly used to monitor security details guarding sensitive facilities and to build digital profiles of their movements.

How, then, did this network come into being? Why was it vulnerable to infiltration? And what does this episode reveal about a surveillance state when its digital infrastructure turns into a strategic liability?

How Iran Built a Surveillance State

In the wake of the “Woman, Life, Freedom” protests in late 2022 sparked by the killing of Mahsa Amini by the so-called “morality police” over alleged violations of Iran’s mandatory hijab laws the Iranian authorities accelerated the development of a sweeping digital surveillance project.

In April 2023, police announced the installation of smart street cameras capable of sending warning messages to women deemed improperly veiled, with the stated aim of “preventing resistance to the law.”

A Reuters report at the time revealed plans to deploy facial recognition technology to match images against a national database and penalize violations, all in the absence of a personal data protection law. Yet the system’s expansion went far beyond dress code enforcement.

Human rights reports indicated that the network was also used to track dissidents. Authorities reportedly collected mobile location data, collaborated with delivery applications, and encouraged citizens to report violations via the police-affiliated “Nazer” app, which allows users to submit license plate numbers and addresses of “offending” women.

This was corroborated by a United Nations report in March 2025, which stated that Iran uses road cameras, surveillance drones, facial recognition tools, and the “Nazer” app to enforce dress codes while intensifying penalties and social exclusion for violators.

In major cities, metro screens in December 2023 displayed passengers’ faces, ages, and genders an unsettling demonstration of AI’s vast capabilities operating without oversight, sparking protests within municipal councils.

The government also relied on the technical capacities of Chinese firms and foreign expertise. A study by the Stimson Center found that at least eight Chinese companies supplied Iran with facial recognition technologies and surveillance cameras.

Authorities further deployed communication interception devices, balloons, and drones to monitor protesters, sending nearly one million text messages and issuing fines to vehicle owners for hijab-related violations in 2023 alone.

The expansion and dispersion of this network spanning tens of thousands of cameras across cities, universities, and highways has transformed Iran’s civilian space into a densely monitored environment.

How Cameras Became a “Target Bank”

In March 2026, the Associated Press published an investigation citing an intelligence official and a knowledgeable source, claiming that “Tel Aviv” had hacked most of Tehran’s traffic cameras, transmitting their data to servers in “Israel” and using artificial intelligence to construct “lifestyle patterns” of personal security teams.

One such camera, positioned to observe vehicles parked by guards near secure compounds, reportedly enabled israelis to identify their home addresses, routes, and schedules. According to the report, planners accelerated assassination operations when cameras detected officials arriving at command centers, while mobile communication devices were disabled to ensure operational success.

This was not the first such account. The Financial Times reported that Israel’s Unit 8200 had infiltrated the camera network years earlier.

It noted that a camera on Pasteur Street was used to track vehicles belonging to the security detail of Supreme Leader Ali Khamenei, compiling detailed profiles of names, addresses, and behavioral patterns using advanced algorithms and movement modeling.

The report also suggested that “Tel Aviv” and Washington disabled nearby mobile towers during the assassination operation to prevent warnings. The Times of Israel echoed these claims, highlighting the role of AI-driven data analysis.

Iranian lawmakers have criticized the Ministry of Communications’ performance. MP Mahmoud Nabavian went as far as to suggest that “all intersection cameras are in Israel’s hands,” an implicit acknowledgment of the breach.

Iranian media, for their part, have avoided technical details, instead attributing the incident to “hybrid warfare” and speaking of destroyed communications infrastructure.

Why Was the System Vulnerable?

Iran’s surveillance history suggests that the state expanded these technologies faster than it could secure them. Due to international sanctions, authorities rely heavily on Chinese hardware, low-cost equipment, or pirated versions of Western software.

According to the Associated Press, sanctions have forced Iran to use outdated hardware and compromised software making systems easier to breach. The sprawling network, composed of thousands of interconnected devices without unified security standards, creates significant vulnerabilities.

When opposition hackers released footage from inside Evin Prison in 2021 and later claimed to have breached 5,000 cameras in 2022, it underscored a critical lesson: outdated, unsecured systems become strategic weak points.

Iranian policies have further widened these gaps. In May 2024, the government proposed legislation requiring private sector cameras to be linked to police networks and retain recordings for 20 days, alongside facial recognition enforcement against those refusing surveillance.

Such integration between public and private systems expands the attack surface, introducing devices that may not meet strict security standards. Security experts cited by Reuters in 2022 warned that the absence of data protection laws increases the risk of misuse and data leaks.

Moreover, the sheer density of surveillance invites attacks. A report by cybersecurity firm Check Point noted that Iranian hackers themselves had attempted to breach hundreds of cameras across the Middle East suggesting that such technologies have become integral to cyber warfare playbooks.

When Cameras Become Weapons of War

Iran is not alone in facing this dilemma. In recent years, camera hacking has become a recurring feature of hybrid warfare.

According to Wired magazine, every side in modern conflicts views the opponent’s cameras as a low-cost intelligence asset:

• Russian forces have targeted surveillance cameras in Ukraine.

• Hamas has attempted to hack cameras in “Israel.”

• “Israel” has reported Iranian cyberattacks on dozens of its own cameras.

U.S. General Dan Caine stated at a security conference that cyber operations including communication disruptions and camera breaches were part of pre-war preparations against Iran. Experts warn that outdated devices and weak security protocols make such breaches a matter of time.

This phenomenon exposes the contradictions of the surveillance state. Cameras are not merely tools of social control; they are nodes within a global digital network accessible to adversaries. When such systems expand without safeguards and become instruments of political power, they can swiftly transform into intelligence assets for the enemy in times of war.

The accumulation of vast datasets on millions of citizens without adequate legal or technical protections creates a highly attractive reservoir for both external and internal hackers. In the Middle East, where security concerns intertwine with social control, control over smart technologies has become an extension of the broader struggle for power.

As the U.S.-Israeli war on Iran enters its fourth week, Western intelligence assessments claim that thousands of airstrikes have “successfully” wiped out much of the surface infrastructure of Iran’s missile program.

Yet a striking military paradox has emerged: ballistic missiles continue to be launched from beneath the ground, albeit at a sharply reduced pace compared to the early days of the war. This has once again drawn attention to Iran’s so-called “missile cities.”

What are Iran’s “missile cities”?

The term “missile city” first appeared in the mid-2000s, when the Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps (IRGC) revealed for the first time a network of deep tunnels used to store ballistic missiles, some of which could also be launched from within.

From the outset, the disclosure served both deterrent and propaganda purposes, as Tehran promoted the idea that such underground facilities existed in every province.

Over time, the term has come to encompass a range of facilities rather than a single fixed model. Some function solely as storage depots and transport tunnels, while others house launch platforms and command rooms embedded within mountains.

Certain coastal locations, such as Qeshm Island, have been designated for anti-ship cruise missiles, in line with Iran’s capacity to threaten navigation in the Strait of Hormuz.

Until the outbreak of the current war, Western and Israeli estimates pointed to around 24 missile sites in western Iran, distributed across tunnel complexes. Western correspondents also confirmed at least five known sites in Kermanshah, Semnan, and near the Gulf.

Israeli strikes on above-ground facilities in 2024 pushed Tehran to double down on investment in underground infrastructure to reduce vulnerability to attack.

Despite variations in size, “missile cities” share core features. According to an assessment by the Jewish Institute for National Security of America (JINSA), these complexes are typically located in mountainous terrain in western Iran and include multiple प्रवेश points that allow vehicles to move launch platforms in and out rapidly.

In larger complexes, such as the Konsh Canyon near Kermanshah, dozens of tunnels extend some reaching a kilometer or more in length housing storage halls for mobile missile launchers, along with vehicles dedicated to warheads and fuel.

In Hajiabad, in Hormozgan province, the same report identified rotating missile racks that enable rapid reloading, facilitating sustained and continuous launch capability.

Western reports have also indicated that some mountain-dug bases may reach depths of up to 500 meters below ground, housing storage facilities and launch platforms for missiles such as Shahab-3, Sejjil, and Khorramshahr. Such depth complicates targeting the internal cavity with bunker-buster bombs, though it does not prevent strikes on entrances.

On the other hand, security experts have criticized aspects of these facilities’ design. Storing missiles and their warheads in long, connected tunnels without blast-resistant partitions or isolation doors could turn a single successful penetration into a chain of internal explosions.

Iranian media has also published material showing underground naval bases near the Strait of Hormuz, believed to be connected to coastal launch sites for cruise missiles targeting ships, making them harder to detect from the air.

Nevertheless, Western sources such as the Foundation for Defense of Democracies argue that part of this image falls within the realm of psychological warfare, noting that many tunnels’ exact locations and functions remain unknown.

How protected are they?

Despite extensive defensive measures, recent attacks suggest that the design of “missile cities” does not protect all components equally. Supporting facilities outside the mountains such as fuel depots, supply stations, and transport infrastructure remain relatively exposed.

The core challenge is not always penetrating the mountain itself, but disabling its use. Drones and precision-guided munitions can seal entrances or destroy mobile launchers and supply infrastructure, which may be sufficient to halt missile operations without destroying the internal cavity.

Analysts warn that destroying a main entrance could turn a facility into a tomb for missiles and vehicles. Reuters recently reported that Iran buried tunnels around nuclear sites such as Isfahan and Natanz to absorb strikes making access more difficult, but also potentially isolating the contents.

The length and multiplicity of tunnels can also be a double-edged sword. Precision strikes may cause internal collapses, sever supply lines, and trap vehicles. Still, disabling a facility does not necessarily mean its total destruction.

According to experts at the Center for Strategic and International Studies (CSIS), “hunting missiles” from the air remains an extremely complex task. Even if bunker-buster bombs inflict damage, confirming total destruction often requires ground operations.

The Israeli military acknowledges that striking underground facilities is far more difficult than destroying surface bases, as it requires precise knowledge of entry and exit points. Targeting tunnels also demands repeated strikes to prevent reopening.

The challenge is compounded by the limited number of deep-penetration munitions such as the GBU-57, required to reach significant depths. This difficulty stems from the design itself, which relies on two core principles:

• Burial: leveraging rocky terrain to absorb blast waves

• Distribution: dispersing assets across multiple sites to prevent a single strike from eliminating them

Entrances are carved into mountain slopes and often concealed with rock-like doors or winding access routes. Iran also constructs hidden secondary entrances for emergency use, with doors operated remotely and reinforced with thick steel walls.

Inside these networks are side roads for vehicle movement, as well as command rooms and storage areas for supplies and rocket fuel. Spain’s El País has reported the presence of powerful ventilation systems to prevent exhaust buildup and avoid thermal detection by satellites.

Following the 2025–2026 strikes, satellite imagery showed Iran burying tunnel entrances at nuclear and missile facilities and adding concrete barriers above some of them.

Reuters also reported that after 2024, Iran built a massive concrete dome over one facility to cover a new opening an attempt to absorb bomb impact and redirect blast force sideways.

What has the 2026 war revealed?

At the outset of the current conflict, U.S. and Israeli strikes focused heavily on missile launch and storage facilities in western and northern Iran.

A report by Israel’s Alma Research Center revealed that bases in Khorgo, Isfahan, Khorramabad, and Tabriz were subjected to intense strikes that destroyed entrances and surface infrastructure. The Tabriz base reportedly contained an older tunnel network that had been refurbished in 2025.

Satellite images published by Radio Free Europe showed that tunnel entrances at the northern Tabriz base had completely collapsed following strikes on March 1 apparently aimed at preventing missile launches.

The ACLED data project recorded the use of B-1 and B-2 bombers by U.S. forces to strike “fortified underground missile facilities” during the first week of the war, while other raids targeted storage sites and launch platforms across roughly 26 provinces.

By the third week, the pace of Iranian missile and drone launches toward Israel and Gulf states had declined, according to Reuters, after launch sites and infrastructure were degraded.

The Israeli military also announced for the first time that it had struck an “underground missile storage site,” signaling that the war had penetrated deep into the tunnel network.

The U.S. Department of Defense claimed that ballistic missile launch rates dropped by nearly 90% compared to the early days of the war following the destruction of launch platforms and logistical support, forcing Iran to rely more heavily on drones.

From a strategic perspective, “missile cities” have reshaped the nature of Iran’s threat in recent years. By moving its arsenal underground and dispersing it across a complex network, Iran has made it significantly harder to neutralize.

These facilities provide survivability after a first strike and give Iranian leadership greater confidence in mounting a second response enhancing deterrence against adversaries. Underground bases near the Strait of Hormuz also enable threats to maritime navigation, raising the cost of any attack.

However, the current war has exposed the limits of this model for several reasons:

1. Not all facilities are unknown; Western sources had already identified sites in Kermanshah, Semnan, and the Gulf, with others pinpointed via satellite imagery.

2. The ability to strike supporting infrastructure and entrances has proven that disabling operational use may suffice without destroying tunnels.

3. Some tunnel designs may represent a vulnerability if a single breach triggers a chain explosion.

4. Reconstruction is costly; Reuters noted that Iran rushed to repair some tunnels after strikes but required significant engineering effort and time.

Finally, observers believe that U.S. and Israeli superiority in intelligence and surveillance allows them to track launcher movements and intercept communications, reducing the suprise and turning “missile cities” into part of a fast-evolving battlefield rather than an absolute safe haven.

After years of ambiguity left behind by the regime of Bashar al-Assad, Damascus announced on March 18, 2026, a new initiative titled “Breaths of Freedom” aimed at eliminating all remaining chemical weapons.

The effort is being carried out in cooperation with the Organisation for the Prohibition of Chemical Weapons (OPCW), under the sponsorship of countries including the United States, the United Kingdom, France, Germany, Qatar, Turkey, and Canada.

The announcement makes clear that the chemical weapons file widely believed by some to have been closed in 2014 has resurfaced with renewed urgency. This is largely because the new authorities lack a complete map of what the former regime concealed, and because the international watchdog has identified more than 100 additional sites linked to the chemical program that were never declared.

The challenge, therefore, is not merely the removal of known materials, but the uncovering of what remains within a multilayered program dispersed across sites, substances, documents, and expertise.

Mapping Potential Sites

Following Syria’s accession in 2013 to the legal framework of the OPCW, the former regime declared 26 sites linked to chemical weapons, including production facilities, storage depots, and mixing and filling lines. However, the OPCW has since gathered information suggesting the existence of more than 100 additional sites.

This figure is not definitive but rather a fluid estimate based on data provided by current authorities, documents obtained, and interviews with experts from the former program.

Some of these sites were previously declared, while others remain suspected or categorized as dual-use. Still others may be eligible for declaration under the new initiative. In the absence of a publicly released list, reports indicate that potential locations are concentrated in coastal regions, Qalamoun, Homs, and al-Safira near Aleppo.

OPCW reports further suggest that some high-priority sites are located near Latakia, though inspectors have not disclosed names or coordinates.

What Remains of the Chemical Program?

The OPCW confirms that all declared Category 1 chemical agents were destroyed by August 2014. However, this applies only to declared stockpiles. What remains may include toxic substances, precursors (materials used to produce other chemicals), munitions, equipment, documentation, and human expertise:

1. Toxic agents and precursors:
The former regime claimed to have destroyed 300 tons of isopropanol prior to inspectors’ arrival but provided no evidence. It also asserted that bombs designed for nerve agents had been converted into conventional munitions again without proof.

Analytical reports suggest that tens to hundreds of tons of nerve agents such as sarin and VX—or their precursors—may still be undeclared. There are also indications that the Assad regime attempted to procure materials to revive its chemical program.

2. Munitions and delivery systems:
The number of concealed missiles, artillery shells, and aerial munitions remains unclear. Reports indicates to the possible existence of hundreds to thousands of unfilled casings, as well as aerial bombs designed for sarin that were allegedly converted.

3. Equipment and industrial capacity:
OPCW inspectors have identified both fixed and mobile mixing and filling equipment even after Syria joined the Chemical Weapons Convention in 2013. Such infrastructure requires technical expertise and access to advanced precursors, posing a significant risk if repurposed or leaked.

4. Laboratories and program documentation:
The handover of 34 boxes of documents by the new authorities to the OPCW on January 15, 2026, points to the vast scope of the program’s archive. These materials may reveal the identities of experts, supply chains, and potentially additional sites.

More than 6,000 documents and six samples have been collected during visits to 19 sites, with one sample showing traces of a nerve agent.

5. Human expertise:
Inspectors are working to interview scientists and officers involved in the former program, as leaving such expertise unmonitored could enable the reconstitution of chemical capabilities.

Inspection, Verification, and Destruction Mechanism

“Breaths of Freedom” operates as a joint mechanism between Syria, the OPCW, and international partners. Its mandate is to identify and eliminate remaining materials while building Syrian capacity in training, logistics, and destruction. The process unfolds as follows:

1. Information gathering and planning:
The OPCW’s Office of Special Missions (OSM) is analyzing data from documents and interviews to identify priority sites. In 2025, Damascus submitted a list of 17 suspected sites in the capital, and Syrian reconnaissance teams conducted preliminary visits.

2. Field visits:
Since March 2025, inspectors have visited 19 sites four previously declared and 15 suspected. Syrian authorities provide security and сопровождение, while the OPCW ensures safety compliance before each visit. Activities include photography, document collection, and sampling.

3. Sampling and chain of custody:
Samples are divided into eight portions: one is given to the inspected state, two are used for on-site analysis, and five are sent to accredited laboratories. Centralized data and analysis ensure a strict chain of custody and prevent tampering.

4. Verification and classification:
If materials or equipment are found to be linked to chemical weapons, the facility is designated “declarable,” obligating Damascus to include it in its official disclosures. The team also distinguishes between civilian and dual-use facilities using engineering maps and expert analysis.

5. Destruction or removal:
According to OPCW protocols, materials may be destroyed in Syria if quantities are limited, or transferred abroad as in 2014. Fixed facilities are dismantled by removing equipment and sealing tunnels, with the OPCW overseeing the process until risks are eliminated and the file is formally closed.

Roles of Key Actors

1. Damascus:
Provides site access, ensures inspector security, and contributes support teams, while committing to declare any newly identified facilities or stockpiles.

The authorities have already handed over thousands of documents and dozens of archive boxes but remain under pressure to facilitate interviews and provide further data.

2. OPCW:
Leads inspection, analysis, and destruction operations, issuing monthly reports to its Executive Council. It re-established a permanent presence in Damascus in October 2025 and has conducted multiple site visits.

3. International partners:
Provide funding and expertise. Washington, London, Berlin, and Paris contribute technical support; Turkey offers demining and training expertise; while Qatar and Canada supply equipment and logistical assistance.

The OPCW has identified additional funding needs of approximately €4.3 million for 2026 and €12.5 million for 2027, underscoring the plan’s reliance on sustained financial backing.

Key Obstacles and Challenges

1. Security and logistical challenges:
Many sites are located in insecure areas littered with landmines and unexploded ordnance, particularly along the coast and in the north. The U.S.-Israeli war on Iran in late February 2026 led to the suspension of inspection visits.

Access requires securing convoys and protecting inspection teams from militia attacks or remnants of the former regime. Any security incident could halt operations entirely.

2. Technical and informational challenges:
The core issue lies in the incompleteness of Syria’s 2013 declaration, which has undergone 20 subsequent revisions. Nineteen outstanding issues remain classified by the OPCW as “serious concerns,” involving large quantities of undeclared agents and munitions.

Delays in providing documents and facilitating interviews further slow verification, while the dual-use nature of many facilities such as fertilizer and petrochemical plants complicates assessments.

3. Financial and organizational challenges:
The success of the plan hinges on sustained funding. The OPCW estimates it requires an additional €4.3 million for 2026 and €12.5 million for 2027.

There is also a need to train Syrian personnel in modern destruction techniques, establish infrastructure for storing seized materials, and manage hazardous waste. The plan further depends on advanced detection equipment and secure transport capabilities.

Amid the thunder of ballistic missiles and the whir of drones that have defined the war between Iran, “Israel,” and the United States, a silent weapon lurking beneath the water’s surface emerges as the most complex and disruptive threat to the global economy: the naval mine.

The strategic danger of this weapon lies not only in its direct destructive power, but in its exceptional ability to engineer fear within a vital maritime artery like the Strait of Hormuz.

It does not require deploying a massive naval fleet or planting hundreds of mines to physically block passage. Mere suspicion that a limited number may be present is enough to create a “functional blockade,” paralyzing maritime traffic as insurers halt coverage, energy prices surge, and global supply chains falter.

What do we know about mines in Hormuz?

Amid the ongoing war, the first reports of possible mine use surfaced between March 10 and 13, 2026, after Reuters cited two informed sources saying Iran had planted around 12 mines in the strait in preceding days a move said to have disrupted oil and gas transport.

Simultaneously, the US military announced it had destroyed 16 Iranian minelaying vessels near the strait, warning of severe consequences if the mines were not removed.

However, on March 13, US Defense Secretary Pete Hegseth said there was no clear evidence that Iran had actually deployed mines, describing earlier reports as “reckless,” underscoring the ambiguity surrounding the situation in the strait.

As for capabilities, estimates suggest Iran possesses between 5,000 and 6,000 naval mines of various types, according to a report by the Congressional Research Service (CRS), a figure echoed in a study by the Defense Intelligence Agency.

The same report notes that estimates in 2019 stood at “more than 5,000 mines,” rising to around 6,000 by 2025. This arsenal includes limpet mines attached by divers, moored mines floating beneath the surface, and bottom mines resting on the seabed making detection particularly difficult.

Chinese sources cited by The New York Times said Iran could deploy hundreds of mines using small boats, despite damage to some of its vessels.

There is no precise official data on the proportion of imported versus domestically produced mines. Western reports indicate that Iran’s stockpile includes Russian, North Korean, and Chinese models that have been locally modified or replicated.

Why are naval mines an ideal weapon to cripple Hormuz?

Unlike missiles or drones, the power of naval mines lies in their silence and their ability to induce psychological paralysis.

1. Geographic choke point:
At its narrowest, the Strait of Hormuz is just 33 kilometers wide and no deeper than about 200 feet, making it ideal for deploying moored or bottom mines that can obstruct safe passage.

Even without detonation, mere suspicion of mines can halt shipping. Companies and tankers cannot risk cargo worth billions, while insurers raise premiums at the first sign of danger.

A report by Lloyd’s List, a leading maritime industry publication, showed tanker traffic through the strait dropped by more than 80% following reports of potential mine presence.

War risk insurance premiums in the Gulf also surged from 0.15–0.25% of a vessel’s value to between 7.5–10%. This means a large tanker could pay an additional $10–14 million per voyage costs significant enough to reroute global shipping and disrupt supply chains.

2. Difficulty of clearance:
Clearing mines from the strait is a slow and complex operation, relying on specialized vessels, helicopters, manned and unmanned submarines, and even trained marine mammals used by the US Navy.

However, the US Navy retired traditional minesweepers in the Middle East in 2025, replacing them with littoral combat ships a platform not yet fully proven in mine-clearing operations.

A US Naval Forces report indicated that reopening the strait after a mining campaign could take days, weeks, or even months, depending on the scale of the threat.

This slow process means that even deploying or merely claiming to deploy a limited number of mines can paralyze trade for extended periods, as clearance requires complete certainty that shipping lanes are safe.

What risks do mines pose to shipping and energy?

The threat of mines extends far beyond obstructing passage; it strikes at the heart of global supply chains and energy markets.

Around five million barrels of oil per day are exported from Saudi Arabia and Iraq via Hormuz, along with 77 million tons of liquefied natural gas annually particularly from Qatar. Any disruption immediately drives up prices and threatens supplies to Asia and Europe.

The Atlantic Council notes that even the possibility of Iranian mines could halt trade within days, as shipping companies avoid the area until it is confirmed safe.

Amid the current conflict, markets have already recorded rapid price increases, and Washington has urged G7 nations to consider international escort plans. Yet even military escorts cannot guarantee safe passage if a single mine could detonate a supertanker and trigger an environmental disaster.

The challenge is that politically reopening the strait may be easier than doing so operationally, especially since mine clearance would require coordinated multinational efforts if mines are indeed deployed.

At the same time, large-scale clearance operations could expose warships to danger and strain naval resources needed on other fronts.

Thus, the true danger of naval mines lies in their ability to transform the strait into a “psychologically and logistically paralyzed corridor”: companies hesitate to transit, insurers impose exorbitant premiums, and markets wait in silence for confidence to return.

Historical precedents make the threat real

This is not the first time the mining of the Strait of Hormuz has been considered.

During the “Tanker War” between Iran and Iraq in the 1980s, Iran used mines to disrupt shipping. On July 24, 1987, an Iranian mine struck the supertanker Bridgeton, despite its protection by US warships as part of Operation Earnest Will.

An archival report by United Press International (UPI) noted that the explosion tore a large hole in the tanker but caused no casualties. US officials believed the mine originated from Iran’s Farsi Island. The incident dealt a symbolic blow to the United States and its allies, demonstrating how a single mine could embarrass a major naval power.

Less than a year later, on April 14, 1988, the US frigate USS Samuel B. Roberts hit an Iranian mine weighing roughly 250 pounds of explosives.

A report by USNI News stated the blast broke the ship’s keel and ripped open its hull, nearly sinking it.

The incident led to Operation Praying Mantis four days later, in which the US Navy destroyed nearly half of Iran’s naval forces in the largest US naval engagement since World War II.

Notably, the mine that struck the Samuel B. Roberts cost only a few thousand dollars, while repairs to the ship ran into hundreds of millions highlighting the stark asymmetry in mine warfare.

A study in Security Diaries noted that Iran laid 60 Soviet-designed M-08 mines off Farsi Island in 1987, imported from North Korea and later modified.

Other reports indicate that Iran announced in the mid-1980s that it had established domestic production facilities for mines, reinforcing claims of reliance on both local manufacturing and imported stockpiles.

This historical backdrop suggests today’s threat is far from hypothetical. Experience has shown that Iran is capable of deploying mines and inflicting significant damage even in the presence of advanced US naval forces.

Despite the intensity of U.S. and Israeli airstrikes on Iran, Washington continues to approach the question of a ground war with caution, sending mixed signals about the possibility. President Donald Trump has not entirely ruled it out, saying: “I’m not saying there won’t be ground troops. We may not need them or if necessary.”

Amid an open-ended air campaign and unresolved hints about a possible shift toward ground operations, an old question has resurfaced: can Iran be penetrated by land as it was during earlier moments in its modern history, or has the cost of such an operation today become immeasurably higher?

A look back at Iran’s modern history reveals two notable cases in which its borders were breached: the swift Anglo-Soviet invasion of 1941 and Iraq’s large-scale assault at the start of the 1980 war. But what has changed today in geography, military structure, state capacity, and deterrence tools that could make any ground invasion an extraordinarily costly gamble?

The Anglo-Soviet Invasion of Iran, 1941

On the eve of World War II, Reza Shah Pahlavi the founder and ruler of the Pahlavi state sought to keep Iran neutral between the competing powers. Britain and the Soviet Union, however, feared the growing influence of Germany in Tehran and its potential impact on oil supplies and transport routes to the Soviet Union.

At dawn on August 25, 1941, the Anglo-Soviet alliance launched Operation Countenance. Units from the British Army and the 8th Indian Division crossed the Shatt al-Arab River from Basra toward the city of Abadan in southwestern Iran, quickly seizing its oil refineries with the support of a small naval force.

At the same time, other British units advanced from Khanaqin on the Iraqi border, pushing into the Naft Shah oil field (Naft Shahr) and then crossing the Pai Tak Pass toward Kermanshah in the northwest after Iranian defenders withdrew.

From the north, three Soviet armies attacked Iran through the Caucasus, while amphibious landings took place at Bandar Pahlavi on the Caspian Sea coast. Soviet forces advanced toward Maku and then toward Sanandaj the capital of Kurdistan province in western Iran as well as Qazvin.

Iranian forces were poorly trained and lacked tanks and air power. Reza Shah also refused to destroy roads and railway lines to slow the invading armies, which facilitated the rapid advance.

By August 30, British and Soviet forces had linked up in Sanandaj and Qazvin. Iranian defenses collapsed, and the Shah agreed to surrender. On September 16, he was forced to abdicate the throne in favor of his son, Mohammad Reza.

The occupation proved a decisive turning point. After the signing of a tripartite treaty in January 1942, the Allies were allowed to keep their troops in Iran until the war ended, turning the country into the so-called “Persian Corridor” used to supply the Soviet Union with weapons and aid.

The success of the invasion was not due solely to numerical superiority Anglo-Soviet forces mobilized around 200,000 troops against nine relatively weak Iranian divisions but also to the weakness of Iran’s leadership and its failure to mobilize the population or exploit the country’s mountainous terrain. Allied reliance on amphibious units and modern airpower, which quickly secured control of the skies, also played a decisive role.

These factors made the invasion swift and relatively low-cost for the Allies, leaving a bitter memory in Iranian political consciousness about the monarchy’s rapid collapse in the face of an easy foreign advance.

The Iraqi Invasion of Iran, 1980

Eighteen months after the Islamic Revolution, Iraqi President Saddam Hussein believed he had a strategic opportunity to seize territory in oil-rich Khuzestan and weaken the new Iranian regime.

On the morning of September 22, 1980, the Iraqi Air Force launched strikes on ten Iranian air bases, followed by a ground invasion along three main axes.

On the northern front, Iraqi forces quickly captured Qasr-e Shirin, cutting the strategic road linking Baghdad and Tehran.

In the central sector, the Iraqi army seized the city of Mehran in Ilam province.

In the south, three armored divisions and two mechanized divisions crossed the Shatt al-Arab River toward Khorramshahr, Abadan, and Ahvaz.

Within the first days, Iraqi troops advanced nearly 80 kilometers into Khuzestan and nearly isolated Khorramshahr and Abadan from Ahvaz. Yet Baghdad’s calculations proved flawed.

The initial air campaign failed to destroy Iran’s air force. Iraqi strikes targeted runways rather than aircraft themselves, allowing Iran to retain its F-4 bombers and launch counterattacks.

On the ground, Iraqi troops encountered fierce resistance in southern cities. Abadan held out despite being besieged, while Khorramshahr fell only after two months of urban combat that cost Iraq roughly 6,000 casualties.

Although Iraqi forces achieved early gains in the north and center, they stalled near Dezful and Ahvaz and failed to penetrate deeper into Iranian territory.

The invasion faltered due to several interconnected factors:

• Iran released detained pilots and integrated the regular army with the Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps and volunteer Basij forces, creating a broad defensive mobilization.

• Many Arab residents of Khuzestan joined the resistance rather than siding with Baghdad, depriving Iraq of a potential local “Trojan horse.”

• Iraqi forces committed tactical mistakes, dispersing their efforts across multiple objectives and failing to prioritize the advance toward Ahvaz or the destruction of the Dezful air base. The command structure was also ill-prepared for large-scale urban warfare.

As a result, what began as a rapid incursion turned into a long war of attrition. Iran eventually recaptured the occupied territories in 1981–1982. While Baghdad succeeded in surprising Tehran, the invasion neither toppled the Iranian state nor forced it into surrender. Instead, it strengthened the revolutionary narrative of the “Sacred Defense” and triggered widespread popular mobilization.

Why a Ground Invasion Appears Far More Complex Today

The current conflict has largely unfolded in the air and at sea, with Washington repeatedly signaling that it does not intend to repeat the experiences of Iraq or Afghanistan wars that drained U.S. resources for years.

U.S. Defense Secretary Pete Hegseth has stated that the campaign’s objectives are to destroy missile capabilities and nuclear infrastructure rather than “nation-building,” stressing that “you don’t need to send 200,000 troops there and stay for 20 years.” Trump himself has framed a ground option as a last resort, suggesting it may not be necessary.

This caution reflects an assessment of several factors that make a ground invasion far more costly than in the past:

1. Geography:
Iran is a vast country covering more than 1.6 million square kilometers, with complex and rugged terrain. The Zagros Mountains line the Iraqi border, the Alborz Mountains dominate the north, and vast deserts stretch across the interior features that collectively provide significant defensive advantages.

2. Population Density:
With around 85 million people living across large cities and rural areas, any invading force would face the challenge of occupying densely populated urban centers while confronting ideologically driven resistance shaped by the experience of the Iran-Iraq War and later asymmetric conflicts.

3. Military and Security Experience:
Over four decades, Iran has accumulated significant operational experience. The Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps and Basij forces have evolved from a popular militia into an ideological institution with land, air, and naval units, as well as a broad volunteer network something demonstrated during the June 2025 confrontation and the current war.

According to a report by the Center for Strategic and International Studies, Iran possesses “the largest and most diverse missile arsenal in the Middle East,” with thousands of ballistic and cruise missiles, some capable of reaching Israel and Eastern Europe. Over the past decade, Tehran has invested heavily in improving the precision of these systems.

Iran also fields long-range drones and maintains missile capabilities among its regional allies in Iraq, Lebanon, and Yemen meaning any invading force would face constant threats to supply lines and rear bases.

4. Combat Experience:
Iran has become highly practiced in asymmetric warfare. Its defense doctrine based on centralized planning and decentralized execution has enabled it to absorb the initial shock of the current war and continue launching missiles despite heavy electronic warfare strikes.

Its long history of supporting militia movements across the Middle East and deploying advisory units regionally also provides Tehran with the ability to open multiple fronts against adversaries.

Taken together, recreating the scenarios of 1941 or 1980 in a contemporary context would likely be an extremely risky political and military venture particularly given divisions within American public opinion. Recent polls show that support for the strikes stands at only about 27 percent.

In mid-March 2026, Google finalized a massive $32 billion deal to acquire the Israeli cloud security company Wiz, whose founders were connected to Israel’s military intelligence Unit 8200.

The deal marked the latest link in a continuing chain through which Israeli intelligence expertise flows into the global digital economy. Skills, networks, and capital move from the barracks of Unit 8200 to startups building the infrastructure of the internet, before ultimately reaching Silicon Valley through acquisitions or partnerships with American firms.

The question, therefore, is not simply whether Unit 8200 produces talented programmers. It is whether Israel has built, through the unit, a kind of cloud pipeline one that transfers expertise in surveillance, hacking, and data collection from the military sphere into companies, venture capital, and the U.S. technology market.

What Is Unit 8200?

Unit 8200 is the largest cyber intelligence division in the Israeli military and is often described as Israel’s equivalent of the U.S. National Security Agency.

It emerged from early cryptography units established in 1948 and uses wiretapping, data mining, and cyber intrusions to gather intelligence. Reports have linked it to operations such as the Stuxnet virus that disrupted Iran’s nuclear program.

The unit does not rely on chance when selecting its recruits. Instead, it runs a highly structured talent pipeline beginning in high schools through programs such as Magshimim, which teaches teenagers programming and hacking in order to identify technical elites at an early age.

The unit recruits 18-year-olds from elite academic tracks and is given priority in selecting the most promising candidates. Alumni often describe the work culture as resembling a startup: small teams operating with considerable freedom to solve unprecedented problems.

This environment produces a mindset of “do everything yourself” and “we can achieve the impossible,” according to alumnus Avi Shua, founder of Orca Security, an Israeli-American cloud security company with global reach.

Inside the unit, young recruits are immersed in a high-pressure environment that mirrors startup culture, where they are required to develop rapid software solutions for intelligence missions.

This environment also benefits from the absence of legal and ethical constraints when technologies are applied to millions of Palestinians living under occupation—who effectively become a vast, open testing ground.

Early exposure to large-scale data processing tools gives recruits exceptional technical experience, transforming compulsory military service into an intensive training camp that produces generations of engineers steeped in the mindset of penetrating and controlling systems before shedding their military uniforms and moving into civilian markets.

How Does It Open Doors to Funding and Influence?

After completing their military service, Unit 8200 alumni do not simply disappear into civilian life. Instead, they enter an organized network that invests in their skills and relationships.

The 8200 Alumni Association, for example, runs programs such as 8200 EISP, which gives participants access to a network of roughly 14,000 alumni worldwide including entrepreneurs and facilitates connections with international clients and investors.

Israeli business outlets such as Calcalist report that the EISP and Impact acceleration programs have supported more than 300 companies, more than half of which remain active. Together they have produced nine exits valued at over $4.5 billion.

During international delegations, 70 percent of participating companies secure their first contracts within six months figures that illustrate how Unit 8200 functions not merely as a military training ground but as a communications and funding ecosystem that accompanies alumni throughout their careers.

This transition from military unit to marketplace is often facilitated by venture capital intermediaries and startup accelerators run by veteran alumni.

The ecosystem does not operate in a vacuum. It is supported by vast financial resources from venture funds established by former unit leaders, creating a relatively closed and highly exclusive financing environment.

Among the most prominent is the venture capital firm Cyberstarts, founded by investor Gili Raanan, which frequently becomes the first partner for alumni startups and has generated remarkable financial returns.

Alongside it stands the venture studio Team8, founded by former Unit 8200 commander Nadav Zafrir. Rather than merely funding companies, Team8 operates using a “factory” model.

Under this approach, major cybersecurity gaps and technological challenges are identified in advance through close collaboration with executives at global corporations. Elite teams of Unit 8200 alumni are then assembled to build companies designed specifically to address those vulnerabilities.

Raanan—an investor at Cyberstarts and a partner at Sequoia Capital—says that even when he does not intentionally seek founders with military backgrounds, between 90 and 95 percent of the teams he encounters consist of Unit 8200 alumni.

He attributes this reality to the unit’s meritocratic culture and the independence it grants young recruits qualities he believes prepare them to run companies. Some alumni also establish mentorship programs, launch venture funds, and create hiring pipelines that favor fellow graduates.

In this way, military service becomes a closed trust network that facilitates funding and employment opportunities, giving alumni a significant advantage over other entrepreneurs in the technology sector.

How Does It Reach Silicon Valley?

The path typically runs through startup formation, followed by American venture investment and major acquisitions. Several prominent examples illustrate this trajectory:

Wiz: An Israeli-American cloud security company with major operations in New York and Tel Aviv. Its founding team previously built Adallom and sold it to Microsoft for $320 million before launching Wiz, which Google agreed to acquire on March 11, 2026 for $32 billion.

CyberArk: An Israeli-founded identity security company with a strong operational presence in the United States. It became part of Palo Alto Networks following a completed acquisition on February 11, 2026.

Check Point: A global Israeli cybersecurity company headquartered in Tel Aviv with a U.S. base in Redwood City the heart of Silicon Valley. A pioneer in firewalls and network security, it protects more than 100,000 organizations worldwide. Its ecosystem later produced founders behind companies such as Palo Alto Networks, Imperva, and the Israeli firm Cato Networks.

Axonius: An Israeli-American cybersecurity and asset management company headquartered in New York with a presence in Tel Aviv. Its platform helps organizations identify devices, identities, and applications connected to their networks. It is already used by more than 70 U.S. federal agencies and has been selected to modernize the Pentagon’s continuous monitoring program.

Cyera: An Israeli-American cloud data security company with major offices in New York and Tel Aviv. Its valuation surged to $9 billion in January 2026 after a new funding round.

How Do These Companies Enter Our Lives?

Companies founded by Unit 8200 alumni operate at largely invisible layers of our digital lives.

Wiz products protect the data of major corporations such as Morgan Stanley, BMW, and LVMH through cloud services provided by Amazon, Microsoft, and Google. After Google’s acquisition, Wiz technology will become part of the Google Cloud infrastructure meaning millions of users may rely on it without realizing it.

Security solutions from Check Point, Palo Alto, Imperva, and Cato filter internet traffic and protect applications in banks, hospitals, and retail systems effectively controlling the flow of information between devices and servers.

Axonius helps organizations identify devices connected to their networks and enforce access policies that can affect every employee or user interacting with those systems.

Meanwhile, the company Onyx focuses on securing AI agents capable of carrying out financial or administrative actions on behalf of users touching on the future of human interaction with artificial intelligence systems.

According to critics, such capabilities are not used solely against external adversaries, as Israeli official discourse suggests, but also in monitoring Palestinians under occupation a reality highlighted by the public protest of 43 Israeli reserve soldiers in 2014.

In an open letter at the time, they refused to participate in intelligence activities targeting Palestinians, arguing that the surveillance system “enables comprehensive monitoring and interferes in most aspects of life.” Their protest revealed aspects of the deep monitoring practices carried out by the unit in the occupied territories.

In 2025, investigative reports also revealed that the unit had stored millions of Palestinian phone calls on servers hosted by Microsoft Azure. Incidents like these illustrate how surveillance tools can migrate into American technology companies and ultimately become embedded in global infrastructure.

Taken together, Unit 8200 is not merely an isolated “talent factory” for engineers. Rather, it functions as the beating heart of a broader system that transforms militarization and surveillance into dominant digital products and massive technology investments.

On March 9, the British government announced the adoption of a non-binding guidance definition of “anti-Muslim hatred.” Officials framed the move as part of a broader “social cohesion” strategy, while critics argued that it represents a political and linguistic compromise that once again avoids adopting the term “Islamophobia.”

The decision follows years of debate over the meaning of Islamophobia and comes amid a sharp rise in anti-Muslim hate crimes. Yet the government ultimately opted for a narrower and more cautious formulation. What does the new definition contain? What is its legal status, and what practical difference might it make? And how has it been received?

What exactly did Britain adopt?

The British government announced, through Communities Secretary Steve Reed, that it would adopt a definition of “anti-Muslim hatred” as part of its social cohesion initiative titled “Protect What Matters.”

The definition emerged from the work of an independent commission formed by the government in March 2025 and chaired by former justice secretary Dominic Grieve. The group was tasked with proposing a non-legislative definition that would take freedom of expression into account.

The adopted text defines anti-Muslim hatred as “intentionally engaging in criminal acts such as assault, violence, vandalism, harassment, or intimidation targeting Muslims or those perceived to be Muslim, or assisting or encouraging such acts.”

It also includes the use of biased stereotypes intended to incite hatred and unlawful discrimination aimed at marginalizing Muslims or depriving them of their rights. The definition emphasizes that protection extends to individuals who are perceived to be Muslim, regardless of their actual identity.

The definition is not legally binding. The government made clear that it “does not create new criminal offenses or alter existing criminal or equality law.” Instead, it is intended to serve as guidance for public institutions.

The government also pledged £4 million in funding to support implementation turning the definition into a practical framework within institutions and announced plans to appoint a special envoy to combat anti-Muslim hatred. However, it did not introduce the definition into criminal or equality legislation.

What has changed as a result?

Prior to March 9, 2026, the British government had no formally agreed definition of anti-Muslim hatred. Police forces and official bodies typically relied on broader categories such as “religious hate crimes” or definitions developed by non-governmental organizations.

According to the government, the new definition will provide a common framework for government agencies, local authorities, schools, and universities to better understand and record anti-Muslim hostility. Yet its practical impact remains limited as long as it remains non-binding and does not impose specific enforcement mechanisms on public institutions.

In practical terms, the definition creates no new powers or penalties. Rather, it is intended to improve data consistency and staff training in recognizing patterns of anti-Muslim hostility.

Government departments and policing bodies are expected to use the definition to improve reporting and response procedures, raise public awareness, and develop guidance for schools, universities, and employers.

The government will also appoint a special representative to coordinate work between ministries and affected communities. Even so, critics argue that the move may prove more symbolic than institutional.

Because the definition is not legally binding, it does not guarantee policy changes unless public bodies translate it into concrete actions. Some observers fear that disparities in how hate crimes are recorded and prosecuted may persist despite the existence of a unified guidance definition.

Why now and why after 2025?

Recent years have seen a clear rise in religious hate crimes in the United Kingdom. Data from the Home Office indicates that 4,478 anti-Muslim religious hate crimes were recorded in the year ending in March 2025 representing roughly 45 percent of all religious hate crimes.

That same year saw a 19 percent increase in crimes targeting Muslims compared with the previous year, figures that prompted renewed calls from Muslim communities and civil-rights organizations for more decisive action.

After its formation, the working group conducted consultations with Islamic and human-rights organizations and submitted its recommendations in late 2025.

Adoption of the definition was delayed by debates within the government over which terminology should be used Islamophobia or anti-Muslim hatred and how to craft a definition that protects individuals without restricting discussion about religion.

The government linked the announcement to rising anti-Muslim hostility and growing social polarization. Yet the timing also reflects a belated political effort to fulfill a campaign pledge made by the Labour Party during the 2024 general election, while responding to mounting criticism from British Muslims who argued that the state had long hesitated to name the phenomenon directly.

Why choose “anti-Muslim hatred”?

The exclusion of the term Islamophobia was not a minor linguistic choice but rather the core political decision itself. The government selected the phrase “anti-Muslim hatred” because it is narrower, administratively simpler, and less likely to provoke legal disputes over freedom of expression. It also allows officials to argue that the state is protecting individuals rather than shielding religions from criticism.

Yet this choice has drawn significant criticism. In the British debate, the term Islamophobia often refers not only to individual insults but to a broader pattern of structural racism, institutional discrimination, and stereotyping targeting Muslims or those perceived as such.

The new guidance stresses that the definition focuses on hostile or discriminatory behavior, clearly distinguishing between hatred directed at believers and criticism or discussion of religious ideas, which remain protected forms of expression.

Accompanying notes clarify that criticism, analysis, or satire of a religion or belief remains protected speech. As such, the definition explicitly preserves the right of artists, journalists, and scholars to critique Islam without fear of criminalization.

Supporters of the term Islamophobia, however, argue that it better captures the racialized and structural dimension of anti-Muslim hostility. The word “phobia,” in their view, reflects a systemic or pathological hostility that goes beyond isolated acts.

Still, critics of the term worry that “phobia” could be interpreted as restricting criticism of Islam or suggesting that the state is protecting religion itself.

Members of the working group noted that some participants preferred the phrase “anti-Muslim hatred” because it is clearer to the public and because the inclusion of the word “phobia” could spark linguistic controversy and prove difficult to apply legally.

This tension highlights the gap between the 2018 definition adopted by the All-Party Parliamentary Group (APPG) on British Muslims and the new government formulation.

The earlier definition treated Islamophobia as a form of racism targeting Muslim identity and representation, while the current government narrows the phenomenon to intentional hostile acts and discrimination a scope that is both politically less contentious and administratively easier for the state.

How was the definition received?

The ruling Labour Party presented the definition as an important step in combating hatred. Yet the official endorsement does not obscure the fact that the government opted for the least binding formulation and the one least entangled in the controversy surrounding the term Islamophobia.

Some members of the Conservative Party welcomed efforts to tackle hatred but expressed concern that the definition could be used to “silence religious criticism.”

Conservative MP Paul Holmes accused the government of concealing details of the committee’s work, warning that the definition could create “a backdoor blasphemy law.”

The Liberal Democrats and several independent MPs criticized the definition as a “watered-down” version of the Islamophobia definition adopted in 2018.

The cross-party parliamentary group (APPG) argued that the government had not sufficiently consulted grassroots organizations.

Responses from Muslim organizations were mixed.

The Muslim Council of Britain (MCB) rejected the definition outright, describing it as a retreat from genuine recognition of Islamophobia. According to the council, the government’s approach fails to acknowledge the structural and racialized dimension of anti-Muslim hostility and instead relies on a diluted formulation that does not reflect the depth or political weight of the problem.

The MCB also argued that the definition lacks recognition of structural racism and called for concrete measures, including equalizing security funding for mosques with that provided to other places of worship.

By contrast, some Muslim organizations including Trust British Muslim Council and several Islamic educational institutions supported the definition as “a positive first step,” provided that it is implemented seriously.

Non-religious organizations such as Humanists UK welcomed the definition because it balances the protection of individuals with freedom of expression, though they cautioned against granting preferential treatment to anti-Muslim hatred over other forms of discrimination.

The Board of Deputies of British Jews also expressed support, arguing that confronting hatred against both Muslims and Jews contributes to a more cohesive society.

Human-rights groups, including the Islamophobia Response Unit, criticized the definition for focusing on intentional hostility, which they say raises the threshold of proof and excludes cases involving unconscious bias or institutional discrimination.

Some academics and experts likewise argued that the absence of any reference to institutional racism weakens the definition’s ability to address the deeper roots of the phenomenon.

Ultimately, the new definition appears less a decisive policy shift than a linguistic and political compromise. The British government has acknowledged the growing problem of anti-Muslim hatred but has chosen to frame that recognition in narrower terms than Islamophobia, keeping it outside binding legal frameworks an approach that limits its practical impact and leaves the debate open over whether the phenomenon should be understood as structural racism rather than merely individual hostility.

Iraq’s oil industry has not suffered a direct strike since the outbreak of the confrontation between the United States and Israel on one side and Iran on the other. Yet the country appears as though it has lost the wealth beneath its soil, after traffic through the Strait of Hormuz through which roughly 20 percent of global oil trade passes ground to a halt.

The chokehold quickly reached Basra, where most of Iraq’s oil fields and export terminals are concentrated, forcing Baghdad to cut production and sending government revenues downward. The episode reveals the fragility of a rent-dependent economy that relies more on “the barrel passing through water” than on the oil itself.

How Did the Chokehold Reach Basra?

With the outbreak of war in late February, Iran effectively halted navigation through the Strait of Hormuz. Hundreds of tankers carrying Gulf crude were left stranded near the passage or inside regional ports, while Tehran declared it would open fire on any vessel attempting to cross.

For Iraq—whose exports flow largely through Basra’s southern terminals the move amounted to severing a vital artery. In less than a week, the country effectively lost three-quarters of its export capacity.

The stages of the decline unfolded as follows, according to information reported by Reuters citing officials in Iraq’s Ministry of Oil.

What Happened When Storage Tanks Filled Up?

As exports stalled, Iraq ran into an old problem: limited storage capacity. On March 3, the Ministry of Oil said the production cuts would not affect refinery operations. Officials, however, acknowledged that storage tanks at southern ports had reached “critical levels.”

A Reuters report cited analysts at JPMorgan as expecting the closure of Hormuz to force Iraq to halt supplies amounting to 3.3 million barrels per day by the eighth day of the conflict, since the country possesses only about three days of storage capacity compared with 14 days for Kuwait, for example.

According to the same report, losses could climb to 3.8 million barrels per day by the fifteenth day of the shutdown and to 4.7 million by the eighteenth day.

Storage is not the only obstacle. Despite expansion in recent years, Iraq’s refining capacity does not exceed 1.3 million barrels per day, according to the U.S. Energy Information Administration. Before the crisis, output from southern fields stood at around 4.3 million barrels per day.

This means refineries can absorb less than one-third of production even under the best conditions. Moreover, most Iraqi refineries produce heavy fuel oil in quantities exceeding domestic demand while failing to generate sufficient gasoline and diesel.

In times of crisis, refineries are expected to temporarily absorb surplus crude. Yet the heavy quality of the oil and the need for refineries to operate continuously make them a limited outlet for excess production.

In addition, storage capacity at refineries is restricted. Any prolonged halt in exports would therefore force companies to gradually shut down wells—a process that has already begun, with production at the Rumaila field cut by 700,000 barrels per day, West Qurna-2 by about 460,000, and Maysan by 325,000.

A Salary-Based State Under Pressure from Lost Barrels

The severity of the crisis becomes clearer when it moves from the oil fields to the public treasury. Official data from the Ministry of Oil show that petroleum exports accounted for more than 90 percent of Iraqi government revenue in 2023.

A 2025 report by the International Monetary Fund goes further, noting that the non-oil tax base is “extremely low,” and that oil revenues will continue to represent more than 90 percent of government income through 2030.

The report warns that rising spending and sluggish non-oil revenues have pushed the oil price required to balance the budget to roughly $84 per barrel in 2024, up from $54 in 2020.

In a country where the number of public sector employees and pensioners reaches several million, any major gap in cash flow threatens the government’s ability to pay salaries, complete projects, or avoid accumulating arrears.

The financial shock, however, does not occur overnight. Iraq entered the crisis with foreign reserves at the central bank worth tens of billions of dollars, and the 2025 budget had not yet been fully exhausted.

Nevertheless, the IMF predicted in June 2025 that declining oil prices and high spending would lead to “financing constraints,” forcing the government to scale back or postpone nonessential expenditures.

If export disruptions continue for more than a few weeks, those reserves could be depleted quickly. Iraq would then face difficult choices: drawing from savings funds such as the Development Fund for Iraq, increasing domestic and foreign borrowing, or cutting wage and benefit bills all options fraught with social and political risks.

Why Is Iraq Less Able to Maneuver?

A quick comparison with other Gulf producers shows that the problem lies not only in the Strait of Hormuz but also in the structure of Iraq’s economy and logistics.

Saudi Arabia, for example, typically exports about 7.2 million barrels per day but possesses the East-West pipeline, which carries crude from eastern fields to the Red Sea port of Yanbu with a capacity of up to 5 million barrels per day. In 2019, the line was used to move 7 million barrels per day after natural gas liquids pipelines were repurposed.

Yet Yanbu’s loading capacity does not exceed 1.5 million barrels per day, limiting flexibility—alongside the security risks present in the Red Sea.

The United Arab Emirates, for its part, operates the Abu Dhabi-Fujairah pipeline, which transports 1.5 million barrels per day to the port of Fujairah on the Gulf of Oman.

Kuwait also maintains storage capacity sufficient for about fourteen days, according to JPMorgan estimates. While it relies on the ports of Shuaiba and Ahmadi, it can also benefit from floating storage and its state-owned tanker fleet.

Iraq, by contrast, has no active alternative pipelines. The Kirkuk-Ceyhan pipeline to Turkey with a capacity of roughly one million barrels per day has remained idle since March 2023 due to an arbitration dispute.

Despite a preliminary agreement in September 2025 to resume operations, implementation has stalled amid disagreements between Baghdad, Erbil, and international oil companies.

The proposed Basra-Aqaba pipeline through Jordan has yet to begin construction. Iraq also lacks a large tanker fleet and external storage facilities, unlike Saudi Arabia and the UAE.

Financially, Saudi Arabia and the UAE possess vast sovereign reserves that allow them to temporarily offset export losses, while Iraq remains burdened by a dual deficit and limited surpluses.

The result is that Iraq finds itself trapped in a double bottleneck: a single maritime outlet and near-total fiscal dependence on oil revenues while its neighbors maintain alternative routes and financial buffers that provide far greater room to maneuver.

Bloomberg, citing an official in Israel’s Ministry of Finance, revealed that the government of Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu is moving to increase its defense budget by roughly $13 billion to finance the war with Iran. The increase will be included in a revised draft of the 2026 budget. Israel’s cabinet is expected to discuss and vote on the amendments before sending them to the Knesset for final approval before the end of the month.

According to the plan reviewed by the agency, the defense budget will rise by about $9 billion, in addition to allocating $3.2 billion as a reserve to cover potential military needs. Israel’s total defense spending is expected to reach approximately $45 billion an increase of around 115 percent compared with its level in 2023, before the outbreak of the war in Gaza.

This historic surge in Israel’s defense budget coming amid a multi-front war fought by the occupying state reflects a range of intertwined signals and implications, whether at the military, political, or economic level. It also carries clear messages to both the Israeli public and the broader regional environment.

Militarily: The Expansion of a Multi-Front War

The first thing this massive budget reveals is the profound shift now dominating Israel’s military doctrine: the consolidation of a state of continuous war within a multi-front combat environment. Until recently, this approach had been the subject of debate within Israeli society. However, recent developments, along with the nature of the challenges confronting Netanyahu, have pushed this trajectory closer to becoming a fixed strategic choice rather than a temporary response.

Regardless of the repercussions that may follow from this approach, Netanyahu and his far-right coalition appear inclined according to their political and security outlook to expand the scope of confrontation and manage simultaneous fighting across multiple fronts, stretching from Gaza and the West Bank to Lebanon, Syria, Yemen, Iraq, and ultimately Iran.

From this perspective, the attempt to pass a defense budget of this magnitude appears to reflect a political and military conviction that the coming phase will remain governed by the logic of open war and its heavy costs.

Strategically: An Admission of the Scale of Losses

The move to amend the 2026 budget—despite its prior approval—and raise defense allocations effectively amounts to an implicit acknowledgment of the scale of attrition suffered by Israel’s military in recent months, beginning with the war in Gaza and extending to the current confrontation with Iran.

These successive developments have imposed heavy burdens on Israel’s military establishment, revealing battlefield and operational costs far higher than earlier estimates and exhausting a significant portion of its combat and armament capabilities.

Despite the climate of ambiguity and secrecy that Israeli authorities seek to maintain in order to conceal the true extent of their losses, the push to raise the defense budget by roughly $13 billion signals a clear shortage in military capabilities and readiness.

This additional funding is primarily aimed at replenishing depleted military stockpiles whether weapons, sensing systems, or intelligence capabilities while also covering the escalating costs of military operations, including operational expenses, soldiers’ salaries, mobilization and reserve call-ups, and other burdens associated with managing prolonged, multi-front wars.

Economically: Deficits and Mounting Strain

Since late 2023, Netanyahu’s government has continued to allocate enormous financial resources to fund its multi-front war. In 2024 alone, more than $31 billion was spent on military operations in Gaza and Lebanon. Then, last December, the cabinet approved a draft state budget for 2026 that included roughly $35 billion for the defense sector—significantly higher than allocations in the previous draft.

This upward trajectory in military spending reflects the extent of the Israeli government’s reliance on the security and military option. At the same time, it imposes growing economic and financial burdens on the structure of Israel’s economy.

According to Bloomberg, this dramatic increase in spending could push the budget deficit beyond the previously set ceiling of 3.9 percent of GDP, at a time when public debt stands at around 69 percent of the national output.

Estimates also indicate that Israel’s government borrowing needs have surged sharply since the outbreak of the Gaza war in October 2023. Borrowing reached approximately $90 billion in 2024 before declining to around $64 billion last year, with expectations that it may rise again during the current year.

The consequences do not stop at direct borrowing. They also extend to debt servicing and interest payments, which are estimated at about $3.2 billion annually, according to Israel’s Ministry of Finance. Because the increase in spending cannot be covered entirely through borrowing, the government may find itself forced to cut spending in other civilian sectors or impose new taxes even though it has already announced austerity measures worth roughly $9.6 billion to finance military operations in Gaza, Lebanon, and Iran.

Politically: Closing the Door on Internal Opposition

Amid growing security-related criticism directed at the Israeli government over the ongoing war, Benjamin Netanyahu and his far-right coalition are seeking to recalibrate the domestic front and contain the erosion of public confidence.

They aim to do so by expanding defense spending and presenting it as proof that security and the protection of the state are the government’s top priorities at this sensitive moment.

At the same time, by increasing defense allocations and attempting to repair the losses and attrition suffered by the military over the past two years, Netanyahu seeks to present himself as a decisive leader capable of managing confrontation firmly in the face of his domestic rivals.

This approach is also used as a political and military deterrent tool, aimed at preventing opposition forces from exploiting the current situation to question the government’s competence or push for its removal at the earliest opportunity.

Regionally: Messages to the Region

Netanyahu’s insistence on expanding defense spending and addressing the military shortages resulting from the attrition experienced by Israel’s armed forces in recent months despite clear economic strain does not merely reflect a temporary response to battlefield needs.

Rather, it reveals a growing desire to prolong confrontation and continue fighting, potentially entrenching a broader transformation that places Israel’s economy on a war footing as the governing priority of this phase.

This approach may also be interpreted as a multi-layered strategic deterrence message directed first at resistance factions and Tel Aviv’s regional adversaries from Gaza, Lebanon, and Syria to Yemen, Iraq, and ultimately Iran.

The core message is that Israel seeks to rebuild the capabilities and equipment it has lost over the past two years, enabling it to restore part of its military arsenal and raise its level of readiness once again.

More broadly, the policy conveys a deeper and clearer signal: Israel no longer views the current confrontations as limited military rounds. Instead, it appears to be preparing for the possibility of a prolonged war and perhaps a wider regional conflict.

Ultimately, the move to increase defense spending reveals what appears to be a deliberate intention by the occupying state to keep the region in a continuous state of tension and confrontation, whether through maintaining a single front or expanding the conflict across multiple arenas, aided by what it sees as unlimited support from the Trump administration.

At the same time, this Israeli momentum is also rooted in a regional environment characterized by imbalance and declining power dynamics, conditions that have encouraged Israel’s government to press ahead with escalation policies while benefiting from a turbulent regional climate that has allowed it to expand its maneuvering space and impose new realities on the ground.