Who is Mojtaba Khamenei, Iran’s presumed next supreme leader? And would he bring change – or more brutal suppression?

Source: The Conversation – Global Perspectives – By Mehmet Ozalp, Professor of Islamic Studies, Head of School, The Centre for Islamic Studies and Civilisation, Charles Sturt University

Morteza Nikoubazl/NurPhoto via Getty Images

The death of Iran’s supreme leader, Ali Khamenei, during the holy month of Ramadan marks one of the most consequential turning points in the history of the Islamic Republic of Iran.

His successor, widely expected to be his son Mojtaba Khamenei, represents both continuity and contradiction in the revolutionary system established after the Iranian Revolution in 1979.

At stake is not only who leads Iran, but what the Islamic Republic has become, nearly half a century after the revolution that promised an end to dynastic rule.

Who is Mojtaba Khamenei?

Mojtaba Khamenei is a cleric who has spent most of his career outside public office but close to power, working within the Office of the Supreme Leader. He was often seen as a gatekeeper and powerbroker rather than a public political figure with a formal portfolio.

At 17, he briefly served in the Iran–Iraq war. He only began attracting public attention in the late 1990s, by which time his father’s authority as supreme leader was firmly established.

Over time, his reputation has centred on two key features. The first is a close relationship with Iran’s security establishment, particularly the Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps (IRGC), and its hardline networks.

The second is a strong opposition to reformist politics and Western engagement.

Critics have linked him to the suppression of protests following the disputed 2009 presidential election. He is also believed to have wielded influence over Iran’s state broadcasting organisation, giving him indirect control over parts of the country’s information landscape and state narrative.

In 2019, the first Trump administration sanctioned Mojtaba, accusing him of acting in an official capacity on behalf of the supreme leader despite holding no formal government position.

Mojtaba’s legitimacy as leader

Iran’s constitution dictates that the Assembly of Experts (an 88-member clerical body) selects the supreme leader.

The assembly lists the religious, political and leadership qualifications of possible candidates. But in practice, it is not a neutral electoral body. Candidates for the assembly itself are vetted through institutions ultimately shaped by the supreme leader’s orbit, and its deliberations are opaque.

This creates a familiar Iranian scenario – the constitution supplies the choreography, while the security-clerical establishment supplies the music.

That matters when assessing why Mojtaba is seen as a viable supreme leader amid critiques he lacks the senior religious standing traditionally associated with the office.

A mid-ranking cleric, he was only given the title ayatollah in 2022. The title is necessary to become supreme leader, so the promotion signalled he was being groomed to take over from his ageing and ill father.

The revolution’s founding myth was clearly anti-dynastic. After toppling the shah, the revolution’s leaders rejected hereditary rule.

To many Iranians, a son following his father as supreme leader looks like an ideological backslide. The regime appears more like a theocratic monarchy, less the famous “guardianship of the jurist”.

Yet, it is also important to be precise. Mojtaba cannot inherit the position by bloodline alone. The assembly must select him.

Still, political systems can become dynastic without rewriting constitutions. Dynastic outcomes emerge when informal power networks, such as family ties, political patronage, security ties, and control over the media, can make one candidate appear more natural, safe or inevitable.

That has essentially been the Mojtaba story in Iran for years: a man who built influence not by winning elections, but by managing the gate to the most powerful office in the country.

The circumstances of Ali Khamenei’s death add another layer of significance and, ironically, legitimacy to Mojtaba’s ascension.

For many Shi’a Muslims, being killed during Ramadan carries deep symbolic resonance. The first imam of Shi’ism, Ali ibn Abi Talib, was assassinated during the dawn prayer in Ramadan in 661 CE, an event still commemorated each year by Shi’ite Muslims.

Shi’ite historical memory places strong emphasis on martyrdom. In particular, the death of Husayn ibn Ali, a grandson of the Prophet Muhammad, at Karbala in 680 CE, symbolises the struggle between justice and oppression.

Because of this tradition, violent deaths of leaders in the past and today are framed within a broader narrative of sacrifice and resistance.

Iran’s revolutionary ideology has long drawn on these themes. If the state presents Khamenei’s death in this light, it could strengthen a narrative of martyrdom and defiance.

This, in turn, gives his son Mojtaba an aura of religious legitimacy that is very strong in the Shi’ite Muslim psyche.

How different would he be from his father?

This is the most consequential question for Iran. The answer is likely less different than many might expect.

Ali Khamenei was a figure of the revolutionary generation. His authority rested on ideological legitimacy, decades spent amassing and consolidating power, and his ability to arbitrate between competing factions. Over time, he became the system’s final referee.

Mojtaba Khamenei, by contrast, is often portrayed as a product of the security establishment, rather than a public theologian or statesman. He is known less for speeches or religious authority than for his influence and the networks he has built behind-the-scenes coordination.

If that assessment is correct, the shift would be from a leader who balanced institutions to one who may lean more heavily on the might of the IRGC. This would deepen an existing trend toward the securitisation of Iranian politics.

In a period of war and instability, regimes typically prioritise continuity and control. Mojtaba’s appeal to the establishment, therefore, appears to rest on several factors:

  • his close ties to the IRGC and intelligence networks
  • his long experience inside the supreme leader’s office
  • his ideological alignment with hardline positions sceptical of reform and Western engagement.

A figure trusted by the most powerful security institutions also reduces the chance of power struggles or fragmentation at the top.

What might this mean for the war?

A new supreme leader rarely produces an abrupt ideological shift, especially during a military conflict. Continuity is the more likely outcome.

Mojtaba Khamenei’s profile suggests a more security-centred style of leadership with three possible ways forward.

First, domestic control may harden. Given Mojtaba’s reported ties to the security establishment, unrest is more likely to be met with swift repression rather than political accommodation.

Second, the IRGC could expand its influence in regional affairs, given how closely aligned Mojtaba is with the guards.

Third, any negotiations with the West would likely be tactical rather than transformative. They would be framed as a strategic necessity rather than an ideological shift.

And given the fact his father was killed in US-Israeli airstrikes, this will only reinforce a more hardline posture toward both countries.

In short, Iran under Mojtaba Khamenei would likely remain confrontational in rhetoric, but pragmatic when regime survival is at stake.

The Conversation

Mehmet Ozalp is the Executive Director of ISRA Academy

ref. Who is Mojtaba Khamenei, Iran’s presumed next supreme leader? And would he bring change – or more brutal suppression? – https://theconversation.com/who-is-mojtaba-khamenei-irans-presumed-next-supreme-leader-and-would-he-bring-change-or-more-brutal-suppression-277483

40% of teenage boys believe women lie about domestic and sexual violence: new research

Source: The Conversation – Global Perspectives – By Sara Meger, Senior Lecturer in International Relations, The University of Melbourne

On International Women’s Day, March 8, we often commemorate the progress women have made across the centuries. Rightly so, as there’s much to celebrate.

But what if the more urgent story is about backlash?

We are researching a troublingly common pathway: how everyday misogyny becomes violent extremism. We’re trying to better understand how gender attitudes influence radicalisation and how we can best prevent it.

Drawing from our soon-to-be-published survey of more than 2,300 adults and 1,100 young people (aged 13–17), our findings suggest misogyny is not a side issue. It may be a driver of extremism.

While public debate often frames extremism through race, religion or nationalism, our research suggests that gender politics may be just as – if not more – central.

Finding the common threads

Though vastly different, extremist movements, such as far-right ethno-nationalists, religious fundamentalists and online “incel” communities, have something in common. The ideological language may differ, but the underlying insistence on women’s “rightful place” in society binds these movements together.

Around the world, there is a growing sentiment that “feminism has gone too far” or that men are now discriminated against. In Australia and other Western countries, this sentiment has risen steadily since 2021.

Online, it’s amplified through what’s been called the “manosphere”: a network of influencers and communities that frame gender equality as a threat.

We are interested in whether this growing sentiment is generating anti-feminist and misogynistic attitudes in Australia, and whether these attitudes form a pathway into violent extremist views.

Our research

In our recent national survey of Australian adults and adolescents, we examined general misogynistic attitudes and support for violent extremism.

We asked whether it is legitimate to use violence to resist feminism. More than 17% of all Australians agree feminism should be resisted with violence. It was the second most supported form of extremist attitude.

Our study included a representative sample of 13–17-year-olds across Australia. The findings are even more confronting among these participants.

We were surprised to learn that 25–30% of boys in this age group expressed agreement with various forms of violent extremism. More than a third (36%) agreed with misogynistic attitudes.

Support for violence to resist feminism was highest among adolescent boys (28%), followed closely by adolescent girls (21%).

Perhaps most alarming: roughly 40% of boys aged 13 to 17 agreed that women lie about domestic and sexual violence.

These results raise crucial questions going forward. We don’t yet know how these views have changed over time, whether they are on the rise and what the links are between violent extremism and the negative treatment of women.

A generation under strain?

Another avenue of enquiry our team is investigating is how the perception of threat to masculine status and lack of belonging can play a role.

Social research has shown boys and men increasingly feel alienated, humiliated or uncertain about their place in the world.




Read more:
How boys get sucked into the manosphere


Narratives that reassert male dominance can become psychologically attractive and are being pushed online – often for profit. They blame the plight of men on feminism, immigrants and women at large.

In our research, we differentiate between interpersonal experiences, anchored in close relationships, and intergroup conflict that has generated a sense of “us” versus “them”: men versus women. We then examine how this intergroup social conflict is driving radicalisation.

Online communities validate men and boys’ grievances and offer an “outgroup” to scapegoat and blame – women. At the same time a new “ingroup” is being crafted, coalescing around misogyny, and shaped and led by key figures online.

This new social identity that defines men and boys (and allies) as an ingroup in need of defending may be operating as a gateway to violent extremist ideologies.

The public and the private

One of our study’s most nuanced insights concerns how young people conceptualise violence against women. We found two distinct clusters of attitudes.

Some respondents justified violence in the private sphere. If a woman disobeys in the home, a man should be able to control her with violence.

Others supported abstract restrictions in the public sphere, such as limiting women’s reproductive rights. Some agreed with the sentiment that “sometimes a woman just pushes a man too far”, forcing him to commit acts of violence.

Different types of extremism appeared to align with different clusters. This suggests misogyny is not all the same. It’s expressed in many ways, from intimate coercion to political control.

The intergroup conflict comes to the fore in social and political debates about men and women’s rights and freedoms, and the perception that advances in women’s rights has come at the expense of men’s.

Understanding these distinctions is vital for understanding misogyny and violent extremism in Australia and beyond. Misogyny is not just a “social issue”, but a potential national security concern.

Interrupting the pathway to extremism

By identifying misogyny as a pathway rather than an endpoint, we can think about prevention.

Researchers at the Faculty of Education at the University of Melbourne have developed Resilience, Rights and Respectful Relationships teaching resources.

The approach is guided by research that shows curriculum that promotes social and emotional skills and positive gender norms leads to improved mental and social health, and reduces involvement in bullying and the perpetration of gender-based violence. Such approaches have already had measurable success in Australia.

One question still being investigated by the researchers is what more needs to be done in schools and to support teachers. Given the expansion of online influences, how are programs like this meant to “compete” and how can these efforts be enhanced?

So while International Women’s Day often centres visibility and empowerment, the initial findings from this research alert us to another truth alongside that celebration: progress can provoke backlash.

But the pathway from misogyny to extremism is not inevitable. It’s shaped by social norms, institutional responses and all of us taking action for inclusion, respect, equality and safety.

We can interrupt this pathway. Successfully doing so will help protect and further gender equality into the future.

The Conversation

Sara Meger is the recipient of an Office of National Intelligence National Intelligence Postdoctoral Grant (project number NIPG202412) and funded by the Australian Government.

Kate Reynolds has oversight of projects funded by the National Intelligence Postdoctoral Grant Scheme Round 4 2024: Misogyny, Radicalisation and Young Australians.

ref. 40% of teenage boys believe women lie about domestic and sexual violence: new research – https://theconversation.com/40-of-teenage-boys-believe-women-lie-about-domestic-and-sexual-violence-new-research-276978

Epstein files reveal the power – and peril – of online sleuths doing the government’s work

Source: The Conversation – Global Perspectives – By Oliver Alfred Guidetti, Post Doctoral Researcher, Cybersecurity and Psychology, University of Wollongong

A large release of important documents once meant teams of journalists staying back, working through piles of records late into the night.

Today, it triggers something closer to a public audit. The January 30 publication of more than three million documents related to convicted child sex offender Jeffrey Epstein has mobilised thousands of online users into doing their own digging. They range from massively popular political livestreamers such as Hasan Piker and Dean Withers, to crowdsourced intelligence communities on Reddit.

These netizens are combing through documents, comparing excerpts and trying to piece together what the archive does (and does not) reveal.

Part of the scrutiny comes from the legal framework behind the release. The Epstein Files Transparency Act largely focuses on protecting victims’ identities. However, the US Department of Justice says it also excluded duplicate records, privileged material and other categories during its review.

Whether those additional filters align with the law’s intended limits has itself become part of the story. So people are examining not only the documents that were published, but the gaps around them.

By pooling their time and expertise, online communities can reveal patterns and contradictions that may otherwise go unreported. The same mechanism, however, can flip into something darker.

A file release becomes a public investigation

Massive, legally mandated document releases – such as the millions of pages declassified under the 1992 John F Kennedy Assassination Records Collection Act – are routinely heavily redacted to protect intelligence sources or privacy.

But rather than settling public doubts, visible gaps often act as a catalyst for further suspicion and distrust. This creates the feeling that the public must audit for itself.

When thousands of people scan the same archive, patterns emerge quickly. Duplicate records surface. Chronologies begin to form. And inconsistencies are noticed that might otherwise remain buried.

A prime example was when open-source intelligence communities successfully cross-referenced early releases of the Epstein flight logs with public charity and event schedules. In doing so, they reliably mapped out passenger associations and timelines days before official media could verify them.

But this capacity has limits. The crowd is often better at saying “look here” than “this proves that”. And when victims’ privacy and other people’s reputations are at risk, incorrect inferences can cause lasting harm.

Moreover, our desire for closure in conditions of uncertainty makes us more susceptible to “apophenia” – the tendency to perceive connections between unrelated data points.

From WikiLeaks to the platform era

The Epstein file dump stands in stark contrast to the document releases of the early WikiLeaks era, beginning in 2006.

At that time, interpretation was slower and more journalist-mediated. For massive drops such as the 2010 Cablegate release, WikiLeaks initially partnered with media outlets such The Guardian, The New York Times and Der Spiegel to process the data. (Although they did later publish the full unredacted archive, putting thousands of named individuals at risk).

Journalists reviewed hundreds of thousands of diplomatic cables, redacting sensitive names to protect sources, and providing extensive editorial framing before the public saw the findings.

The infrastructure of the internet operates differently today. Social media algorithms reward outrage, and information travels as screenshots, fragments and threads. Context is easily lost as content moves further away from its source.

Artificial intelligence tools further complicate things by introducing synthetic “evidence” into the public record. A number of AI-generated images, video and audio clips have been debunked since the Epstein files release. One of the most prominent is a viral AI image that claims to show Epstein alive in Israel.

These conditions create risks

Large archives often contain partial names, common names or ambiguous references. When those fragments circulate online, innocent people can become attached to viral claims through little more than coincidence.

For instance, ordinary IT professionals and random citizens whose photos appeared in old FBI photo lineups included in the archive have been falsely accused by online mobs and politicians who assumed anyone listed in the vicinity of the dump was a co-conspirator.

Narrative lock-in is another risk. Once a particular explanation gains momentum, later corrections or clarifications often struggle to travel as far as the original claim.

In one example, a spreadsheet summarising public calls to an FBI tip line went viral, with the false claim that it was Epstein’s official “client list”. Even after journalists clarified the document’s true nature, the initial framing had locked in across social media.

A related phenomenon is information laundering. A claim may begin as speculation in a forum or social media post, but then reappear as something “people are saying” and, over time, can be framed as having been verified.

One example involves “redaction matching”, wherein online sleuths are baselessly asserting that the length of black censor bars on the files perfectly match the character counts of specific politicians’ names.

The Epstein case has also highlighted a different risk: technical mistakes within the release itself. A number of key failures in how the DOJ redacted data has led to victims’ names and details being found out.

A closing lesson

None of this means people should stop asking questions. Public scrutiny is the bedrock of accountability. But scrutiny works best when it follows clear standards. Viral interpretations of files should be treated as starting points for inquiry – not conclusions.

The deeper lesson from the Epstein files is about institutional trust. When institutions fail to resolve serious allegations, judgement does not disappear; it moves outward into the public sphere.

And a public that feels compelled to investigate its own institutions is not merely asking questions about a set of documents. It is signalling that confidence in the official process has eroded.

The Conversation

Oliver Alfred Guidetti does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.

ref. Epstein files reveal the power – and peril – of online sleuths doing the government’s work – https://theconversation.com/epstein-files-reveal-the-power-and-peril-of-online-sleuths-doing-the-governments-work-276752

How the Iran war could create a ‘fertiliser shock’ – an often ignored global risk to food prices and farming

Source: The Conversation – Global Perspectives – By Nima Shokri, Professor, Applied Engineering, United Nations University

Tehran is moving to restrict – or effectively close – the Strait of Hormuz to shipping, as part of the latest escalation in the war involving Iran.

Markets have reacted to the global impact of closing this incredibly busy shipping channel, focusing on the risk to oil and gas flows, the prospect of higher crude prices and the inflationary pressures that would follow.

That concern is justified. But it captures only part of the story. A sustained disruption of traffic through Hormuz would not simply constitute an energy crisis. It would also represent a fertiliser shock (where prices go up dramatically and supply goes down) – and, by extension, a direct risk to global food security.

Modern agriculture runs not only on sunlight and soil, but on natural gas. When German chemists Fritz Haber and Carl Bosch developed their nitrogen fixation method in the early 20th century, they did more than just manufacture ammonia at scale.

They launched a global chemical revolution that remains a cornerstone of modern civilization and agriculture. Through this process, methane is transformed into ammonia, and ammonia into nitrogen fertilisers such as urea – the most widely used nitrogen fertiliser. Those fertilisers allow crops to reach the yields on which today’s global population depends. Without it, harvests of wheat, maize and rice would fall dramatically.

Around a third of globally traded urea passes through the Strait of Hormuz. The Persian Gulf sits at the centre of this system for two structural reasons. First, it offers access to some of the world’s cheapest natural gas, essential for ammonia production.

Second, over decades, vast capital investments have built ammonia and urea capacity in countries within the region, including Qatar, Saudi Arabia, and the United Arab Emirates. This is aimed at the export market. A significant share of globally traded nitrogen fertiliser – and the liquefied natural gas (LNG) that powers fertiliser plants elsewhere – must therefore travel through the Strait of Hormuz. A closure of the strait would threaten not only oil and gas exports but also the physical flow of nitrogen-based fertilisers and what is needed to make them.

The immediate effect would be delays to shipments of ammonia, urea and LNG. They could be stopped completely or become prohibitively expensive through higher freight and insurance costs. But the deeper impact would unfold in the months ahead at farms around the world.

A tractor spreading fertiliser in a wide open field.
Farmers stocks of essential fertiliser may soon be depleted because of the Iran war.
Fotokostic/Shutterstock

In the northern hemisphere, fertiliser purchases accelerate before planting seasons. A delay of weeks can be disruptive; a disruption of months can make a huge difference. If shipments fail to arrive on time, farmers face difficult choices such as how to pay sharply higher prices, reduce application rates, or alter crop mixes. Because of how crops respond, even modest reductions in nitrogen use can produce disproportionately large declines in yield. That could translate into millions of tonnes of lost crops. The consequences would ripple through global supply chains into feed markets, livestock production, biofuels and ultimately retail food prices.

Do countries not have their own supplies?

Some countries have supplies of fertilisers, but self-sufficiency is rarer than it appears. India, for instance, relies heavily on LNG imports from the Persian Gulf to run its domestic urea plants. Brazil depends substantially on imported nitrogeon and phosphate fertilisers to sustain soybean and maize production.

Even the United States, one of the world’s largest fertiliser producers, imports meaningful volumes of ammonia and urea to help meet regional demand and reduce prices. In sub-Saharan Africa, use of fertiliser is already low. A further rise in prices is likely to reduce use even more, cutting yields and increasing food insecurity.

The system’s fragility extends beyond nitrogen. Sulphur – as an essential nutrient for plant growth – is largely a byproduct of oil and gas processing. If energy shipments through Hormuz are disrupted, sulphur output falls alongside fuel exports. So, the shock would not only reduce fertiliser shipments but also restrict ways to produce them elsewhere.

Meanwhile, the production of synthetic nitrogen tightly coupled to energy markets because it is manufactured continuously from natural gas. A disruption in gas supply or ammonia trade immediately constrains global nitrogen availability. Estimates suggest that without synthetic nitrogen, the world could feed only a fraction of its current population. The Strait of Hormuz therefore sits at the intersection of energy and food security.

Changing where fertiliser is produced cannot happen overnight. Financing and constructing new ammonia plants takes years. A double-digit contraction in exports from a key region cannot be swiftly offset. In the interim, prices would rise, trade flows would re-route and planting decisions would be made under uncertainty. Food price inflation, historically correlated with social unrest, could intensify.

Central banks, focused primarily on fuel-driven inflation, could underestimate the contribution of fertiliser scarcity to prices overall. Crucially, fertiliser shocks do not register with the same immediacy as oil shocks. Petrol prices change overnight. Crop yields reveal themselves months later. Yet the latter may prove more destabilising.

Controls and closure of this narrow maritime chokepoint would reshape the cost-of-living well beyond the Persian Gulf.

If the 20th century taught policymakers to fear oil embargoes, the 21st should teach them to fear a fertiliser shock. Energy markets can absorb shocks through reserves and substitution. But the global food system has far thinner buffers. A prolonged disruption at Hormuz would not simply reprice crude; it would test the resilience of the industrial nitrogen cycle on which modern civilisation depends.

Oil powers cars. Nitrogen powers crops. If the Strait of Hormuz closes, the most consequential price may not be Brent crude but the cost of feeding the world.

The Conversation

Nima Shokri is affiliated with Hamburg University of Technology.

Salome M. S. Shokri-Kuehni does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.

ref. How the Iran war could create a ‘fertiliser shock’ – an often ignored global risk to food prices and farming – https://theconversation.com/how-the-iran-war-could-create-a-fertiliser-shock-an-often-ignored-global-risk-to-food-prices-and-farming-277552

Donald Trump campaigned against ‘endless wars’. So why is he risking another one in Iran?

Source: The Conversation – Global Perspectives – By Jared Mondschein, Director of Research, US Studies Centre, University of Sydney

US President Donald Trump has summed up his rationale for attacking Iran fairly simply, saying “this was our last best chance to strike”.

Not known for adhering to any particular lasting strategy, Trump sees each day in the White House as an episode in a reality show in which he seeks an advantage over his rivals, if not to vanquish them. And Iran certainly qualifies as one of America’s most enduring rivals.

To be sure, Trump’s claim that Iran posed an imminent threat to the US is hard to justify. After all, Iran’s military and proxy groups have never been weaker.

It’s also hard for him to claim that Venezuela or Islamic State operatives in Nigeria, Syria and Iraq posed imminent threats to the US. Nonetheless, the Trump administration struck all of them over the past year.

As much as Trump may have campaigned against nation-building and “forever wars” when running for president, he certainly never campaigned against military strikes, particularly ones that entail minimal danger to American lives.

Trump campaigned in 2016 on strengthening the US fight against Islamic State. And once in office, his administration not only helped eliminate the IS caliphate – finishing the job started under the Obama administration – but also killed IS leader Abu Bakr al-Baghdadi.

The first Trump administration was also behind the assassination of Iranian commander Qassem Soleimani in a brazen attack near Baghdad airport.

It is likely for this reason his administration decided to go for the death blow now, when the Iranian government is at its most vulnerable.

There were also specific circumstances that have made Trump more open to limited military actions in the past:

  • long-lasting, bipartisan frustration with an adversary
  • the support of regional US allies and partners for a strike (or at least their toleration)
  • US capability to mitigate potential responses.

And there was another undeniable factor: the increasing confidence that comes from the perceived success of previous actions. Many expected the Trump administration’s capture of Venezuelan President Nicolas Maduro to result in chaos, for instance, but that has yet to happen.

Trump in 2019: ‘Great nations do not fight endless wars.’

Decades of antagonism

This is undoubtedly a war of choice, not necessity. That said, the Trump administration is likely hoping the US can be less involved in the Middle East after this war, if it results in a different Iran.

The sentiment that fuels Trump’s antagonism towards NATO allies is the same that is motivating his war against Iran: the US wants to do less overseas.

Such a statement may appear ironic given the administration has undertaken America’s largest military attack since the invasion of Iraq 23 years ago. But this is presumably the administration’s end game with Iran, risky as it may be.

Half a century ago, Iran was second only to Israel among Middle Eastern countries with close working relationships with the United States. The post-1979 Islamic Republic, however, upended the region’s power dynamics. Iran’s top foreign policy priorities for decades have been projecting hostility towards the United States and Israel.

In that time, Democratic and Republican administrations alike have labelled Iran the world’s foremost state sponsor of terrorism.

For years, Iran has proudly supported Hamas in Gaza, Hezbollah in Lebanon, the Houthi rebels in Yemen, Bashar al-Assad’s regime in Syria, and Shia militant groups in Iraq. Such groups have killed hundreds of Americans and tens of thousands of others across the Middle East. Iranian agents also sought to assassinate Trump and other senior US officials.

Iran and its proxy groups have cost successive American administrations – both Democratic and Republican – enormous political capital and resources for decades.

It should also be said the vast majority of Iranians are against the regime and have never felt more optimistic about a brighter future since the Islamic Revolution in 1979.

Limiting factors moving forward

US Defence Secretary Pete Hegseth has tried to distinguish the Iran war from the “forever wars” of the past, saying, “This is not Iraq, this is not endless”.

The administration is likely aware of other key differences, too.

Compared to George W. Bush’s war against Iraq in 2003, Trump has lacklustre support for the Iran strikes.

Democratic lawmakers have called the attack both unconstitutional and against international law.

Only 55% of Republicans support the attack, despite the fact Trump himself enjoys an approval rating among members of his party of around 80%.

The Trump administration hasn’t helped itself with its incoherent messaging, either. It has used a number of justifications for the strikes, including stopping an imminent Iranian attack, destroying Iran’s ballistic missiles, preventing it from acquiring nuclear weapons, cutting off support for its proxy militant groups, and regime change.

Most recently, the administration said it had to join Israel’s offensive against Iran because it was going to be drawn in by Iran’s response anyway. And Trump refused to rule out boots on the ground in Iran.

These conflicting messages don’t help sell the operation to a wary public, particularly one that is far more concerned about the economy than the Middle East. After all, the last time a foreign policy issue played a significant factor in a US election was arguably more than 20 years ago.

So, why engage in such an expensive and risky endeavour that even his own base doesn’t fully support?

One reason is the US constitution allows the president to do a lot more to change the dynamics on the ground in Iran than it does in the United States. The judicial branch, for instance, has limited Trump’s “Liberation Day” tariffs and deployment of federal troops domestically. Foreign policy is one area where he can be a man of decisive action.

But Trump knows a long war is not feasible. The US, Israel and their regional allies and partners face the real prospect of running low on munitions to continue defending against Iran’s far cheaper drones for the weeks or months that Trump says the war may continue.

The Islamic Republic of Iran is also facing an existential battle for its survival. The regime’s will to fight and ruthlessly effective internal security forces – combined with low US domestic support for war – means time may be on its side.

Facing increasing levels of domestic opposition, we can expect the Trump administration to try to avoid a long-term conflict in Iran. As history shows, however, it still needs an exit strategy.

The Conversation

Jared Mondschein does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.

ref. Donald Trump campaigned against ‘endless wars’. So why is he risking another one in Iran? – https://theconversation.com/donald-trump-campaigned-against-endless-wars-so-why-is-he-risking-another-one-in-iran-277370

Russia wanted a new world order. This wasn’t the one it had in mind

Source: The Conversation – Global Perspectives – By Mark Edele, Hansen Professor in History, The University of Melbourne

Four years ago, Vladimir Putin escalated his war against Ukraine to an all-out assault. The plan was for a quick and lively campaign and a speedy takeover of a country the Russian president thought shouldn’t exist.

Victory would reassert Russia’s status and hasten a shift from a unipolar to a multipolar world; instead of one great power (the United States), we’d have several. Russia would, of course, become one of the “greats”.

So, how’d that go?

Four years on, Russia has not found itself among fellow great powers willing to divide up the globe.

A middle power despite its great power cravings, Russia has instead been forced into a growing dependence on China while having to deal with a multitude of hostile middle powers, which often thwart its ambitions.

A greater failure is hard to imagine.

Careful what you wish for

In recent days, Russia had to watch on helplessly as the US and Israel – following Russia’s playbook – ignored international law and attacked Iran, a close Russian ally.

When Iran’s foreign minister asked his Russian counterpart for help, Sergei Lavrov sounded more like a European politician than an advocate for a new world order.

He condemned the “unprovoked act of armed aggression […] in direct violation of the fundamental principles and norms of international law”. He called for a “peaceful solution based in international law, mutual respect and a balanced consideration of interests”.

As The Guardian put it, Russia has found out a

rejection of the old rules of geopolitics have not necessarily played into its favour.

Russia underestimated the extent to which the old order gave it room to manoeuvre. Then, as long as others played by the rules, breaking them could give Russia a tactical advantage.

But once others also opted for raw power, the limits of Russia’s abilities became obvious.

Reality checks

The first reality check came on the battlefield.

Russia lost the battle of Kyiv, had to retreat from much of what it had occupied in the north of Ukraine, and was forced into a grinding war of attrition in the east.

Ukraine lost big swathes of territory in the south, which allowed Russia to establish a land bridge between Donbas and Crimea (which it illegally occupied in 2014).

But Ukraine’s government retained control of 80% of its territory. It also held onto its use of the Black Sea, a vital link to world markets.

Unable to advance meaningfully on the ground, Russia tried a criminal air war targeting civilian infrastructure, hoping to freeze Ukraine into submission.

Such tactics rarely work, but do cause untold misery and suffering for civilians.

Meanwhile, Ukraine is fending off Russia’s attempt to enforce Ukraine’s capitulation at the negotiating table.

Being a great power isn’t cheap

All Russia’s efforts are complicated by the emerging multipolar world order it had so desperately hoped to conjure into being.

Ukraine has been supported by a coalition of middle powers that are slowly finding their feet in this new reality.

Russia has discovered the hard way that its geopolitical fantasy of being a great power in this new multipolar world order comes with one tiny problem: it can’t afford it.

Its population is both declining and ageing. Its GDP (adjusted to purchasing power) is in the same ballpark as that of Japan or Germany (rather than the much larger India, to say nothing of the US or China).

And its economy is dominated by hydrocarbon exports destined for a bleak future in a quickly decarbonising world.

As one of the most consequential middle powers of the Euro-Asian landmass, with a permanent seat on the UN Security Council, and a sizeable military armed with nuclear weapons, it could cause significant damage trying to assert its desired great power status.

But the results were opposite to intentions.

From bad to worse

Unable to subdue Ukraine, Russia’s power projection suffered elsewhere. Its once-close relationship with Israel is on the rocks. It lost its foothold in Syria and has proved unable to support its allies in Iran and Venezuela.

In a lawless international order, it is too inconsequential to dictate the play.

While US President Donald Trump at times treats Putin as an equal, nobody else does.

True, China has celebrated a “no-limits partnership” with Russia, its biggest neighbour.

But it neither took clear sides in Russia’s Ukraine war, nor sent weapons. Instead, Beijing used Russia’s isolation to cement a relationship in which it clearly has the upper hand.

India increased its purchase of Russian oil (now at a steep discount) and continued to buy Russian weapons, but as part of a multi-vector geopolitical strategy.

Rather than a fellow great power, India saw Russia as an opportunity to be exploited in its ongoing quest for an autonomous foreign policy.

Fantasy and reality

Ukraine, meanwhile, lost the clear support from the US it had enjoyed at the start of the war, but has been supported financially and militarily by a flexible coalition of middle powers.

According to the latest data, the nearly US$75 billion (A$105 billion) in military aid the US has provided since the start of the war has amounted to only 30% of the total tally.

The remaining 70%, and all ongoing military support in the past 12 months, came from middle and smaller powers, led by Germany (20%), the United Kingdom (9%), Norway (8%) and Sweden (7%).

Thus, Russia’s war on Ukraine did hasten the emergence of a multipolar world.

It just wasn’t the one Russia had in mind.

The Conversation

Mark Edele receives funding from the Australian Research Council.

ref. Russia wanted a new world order. This wasn’t the one it had in mind – https://theconversation.com/russia-wanted-a-new-world-order-this-wasnt-the-one-it-had-in-mind-277195

Does regime change ever work? History tells us long-term consequences are often disastrous

Source: The Conversation – Global Perspectives – By Matt Fitzpatrick, Professor in International History, Flinders University

The latest US-Israeli bombings in Iran differ from last year’s, because one of the stated aims this time is regime change.

Engaged in the mass murder of civilians at home and fomenting violence abroad, the current Iranian regime has few friends internationally.

Many would be glad to see Iran undergo a far-reaching program of political reform. For many in the Iranian diaspora, regime change imposed from outside is better than none.

But the historical record of imposed regime change, particularly as undertaken by the United States, is patchy at best.

Things rarely go to plan, and the long-term consequences are often disastrous.

Afghanistan and Iraq

Some immediate examples spring to mind.

Still fresh in the public mind would be the shocking scenes of desperate Afghans trying to leave Kabul in 2021 as the United States conceded it could not permanently defeat the Taliban.

This admission came after two decades, thousands of deaths of US and allied troops and tens of thousands of Afghan deaths.

Many would also remember then-US President George W. Bush’s disastrous speech in May 2003 about America’s regime change efforts in Iraq, begun in March that year. Here, Bush addressed the press while standing in front of a huge banner that said “Mission Accomplished”; the implication was regime change had been achieved in just a few months.

In fact, what followed was another decade of US fighting to try to stabilise Iraq, with actions arguably not wound up until 2018 or even beyond.

Once again this came at a huge cost to civilian lives, with The Lancet estimating as early as 2004 that around 100,000 “excess deaths” had occurred as a result of the US attempt to effect regime change there.

Thereafter, Iraq was continuously wracked by violence and civil war. Notably, ISIS took advantage of its weakened state to establish its “caliphate” on Iraqi territory, leading to yet another wave of US intervention.

But US attempts to impose regime change have a much longer and equally unsuccessful history, as well.

From the Bay of Pigs to Iran

The phrase “Bay of Pigs” has become a synonym for the inability to overthrow a government.

Aimed at overthrowing Fidel Castro in Cuba in April 1961, not only was then-US President John F. Kennedy’s foray into regime change unsuccessful (Castro died in his sleep with his regime still in control of Cuba at the age of 90 in 2016), it also led to the execution of CIA operatives there.

The US also faced the embarrassment of having to swap tractors for the freedom of the Cuban exiles who had carried out the failed invasion for them.

In 1953, the US and Britain actually did succeed in overthrowing Iranian Prime Minister Mohammad Mossadeq after he’d announced Iran’s oil industry would be nationalised in response to Western oil companies’ intransigence on royalties and control.

This regime change effort by the US did “succeed” in the short run, but it led to a series of events that culminated in the repressive regime the US aims to replace today.

Mossadeq’s toppling led to the shah of Iran, Mohammad Reza Pahlavi, becoming an absolutist monarch in the cruellest tradition.

His savage repression led in no small way to the 1979 Iranian revolution, which became the vehicle for the present theocratic government to come to power.

It is one of the ironies of history that the son of the dictatorial shah is now presenting himself as the logical candidate to bring democracy to a new Iran.




Read more:
Iran’s exiled crown prince is touting himself as a future leader. Is this what’s best for the country?


From the colonial era to WWII

Some might reach further back and argue regime change in Germany worked after the second world war.

It is worth remembering, however, that this was far from a simple process. It involved occupying Germany for more than a generation, decades of trials against ex-Nazis and splitting the country in two for more than 40 years.

As the epicentre of the Cold War, this is hardly an experiment in regime change that could be easily replicated.

Earlier examples of regime change from the colonial period provide similar lessons.

Large armies of invading colonial forces were able to pull down governments in Africa and Asia and prop up unpopular ones.

But once the occupying forces sought to remove their militaries or lost the will to resort to massacres to reinforce their rule, the shift towards decolonisation or self-rule became increasingly irresistible.

In the Dutch East Indies, French-ruled Vietnam, British India and the Belgian Congo, governments imposed by external powers were rarely viable once the threat of force was removed.

Czechoslovakia’s Prague Spring protests in 1968 – an effort to throw off Soviet-imposed rule – were quickly crushed by the USSR, showing once again that regime change “works” for as long as you are prepared to enforce it with violence.

By 1989, however, the Soviet Union’s appetite for enforcing its hegemony across eastern Europe had waned, leading to a largely peaceful transition to democracy across the region.

A failure to learn from history

Today’s US leaders are unlikely to accept the counsel of history.

But they would do well to remember the simple message of former US Secretary of State Colin Powell’s “Pottery Barn” rule for attempts to overthrow governments: you break it, you own it.

At present, however, the view from Washington seems to be that you can just break states and hope someone else will fix it for you.

The Conversation

Matt Fitzpatrick receives funding from the Australian Research Council He is currently president of the History Council of South Australia.

ref. Does regime change ever work? History tells us long-term consequences are often disastrous – https://theconversation.com/does-regime-change-ever-work-history-tells-us-long-term-consequences-are-often-disastrous-277221

Why surging oil prices are a shock for the global economy – but not yet a crisis

Source: The Conversation – Global Perspectives – By Stella Huangfu, Associate Professor, School of Economics, University of Sydney

Global oil markets have reacted swiftly to escalating tensions in the Middle East as the United States and Israel continue their assault on Iran.

After oil tanker traffic through a key chokepoint, the Strait of Hormuz, stopped,
the benchmark oil price, Brent crude, jumped about 6% to over US$77 a barrel. It initially spiked as high as US$82, its highest level since January 2025.

A roughly US$10 jump in a matter of days is a significant move and delivers an immediate inflationary jolt for oil-importing economies.

What does this mean for households, businesses and central banks?

Why oil still matters

Oil may no longer dominate the global economy as it did in the 1970s, but it remains embedded in modern production.

It feeds directly into petrol prices, diesel, aviation fuel and shipping, and shapes the cost of transporting and producing everything from food to manufactured goods. When oil prices rise quickly, the effects spread beyond energy markets.

Economists call this a “negative supply shock”: the result is production becomes more expensive. Companies can absorb higher costs or pass them on to consumers. In practice, they usually do both.

The result is an uncomfortable mix of higher inflation and slower economic growth.

The inflation impact will weigh on central banks

The most immediate effect is at the petrol pump. Higher crude prices lift fuel costs and push up headline inflation. For households already facing cost-of-living pressures, that can be felt quickly.

For example, when the price of oil goes up by $10 a barrel, the rough rule of thumb is that the price of gasoline for US drivers could rise by about 25 cents a gallon. Elsewhere, such as Australia, it’s estimated at around 10 cents a litre more for every US$10 rise.

Transport and logistics costs also increase, and some of those higher costs filter into the broader price level over time.

How much inflation rises depends how long the disruption to oil markets lasts. A brief spike might add only a few tenths of a percentage point to inflation. A sustained increase would be more problematic.

Central banks are watching closely. Inflation in the US and Europe has eased from post-pandemic peaks. In Australia, inflation has fallen from its pandemic highs, but recent data show renewed upward pressure. Reflecting those concerns, the Reserve Bank of Australia raised the official cash rate in February.

An oil shock could weaken global growth

Higher fuel costs risk adding fresh momentum to inflation now, arriving at precisely the wrong time, just as policymakers at the US Federal Reserve and the European Central Bank were hoping it was coming under control.

In one of the first comments from a central banker on the economic impact of the conflict, the Reserve Bank of Australia’s governor today noted the supply shock could add to inflation pressures.

However, Governor Michele Bullock also warned that a prolonged impact on energy markets

could have adverse effects on global economic activity and result in downward pressure on inflation. It is not obvious how this might play out.

Oil-driven inflation is particularly challenging for central banks. Raising interest rates cannot affect the supply of oil. Unlike demand-driven inflation – where strong consumer spending can be cooled by higher interest rates – supply-driven inflation reflects higher production costs.

If central banks lift rates to contain prices, they risk slowing growth further. But the interest rate rises cannot directly lower oil prices.

Pressure on household budgets

Higher oil prices also squeeze household budgets.

When families spend more on fuel, they have less to spend elsewhere. Since household consumption typically accounts for around 60% of the economy in advanced economies, even modest shifts in spending can matter.

Businesses face similar pressure. Higher energy and transport costs reduce profit margins and can delay hiring or investment.

The effects vary by country. Europe is a major net energy importer. While Australia exports coal and gas, it relies heavily on imported oil and refined fuel. That leaves both economies exposed to higher global oil prices.

The United States is more mixed: higher prices support its energy sector, but still lift costs for most households.

The current jump in the oil price is not enough to trigger a global recession. But it adds another headwind as global growth moderates.

How does this compare with 2022?

The obvious comparison is the oil price surge following Russia’s invasion of Ukraine in 2022.

Then, crude prices briefly climbed above US$120 a barrel, intensifying already high inflation. In response, the US Federal Reserve hiked rates rapidly to rein in inflation.

Today’s situation is less extreme. Prices are well below those peaks, global demand is softer, and interest rates in the United States, Europe and Australia are several percentage points higher than they were in early 2022. Inflation has been trending down in most major economies.

Still, households may be more sensitive now. After years of rising prices and higher interest rates, consumer confidence is fragile. Even moderate increases in petrol prices can influence spending.

The key question is whether this is temporary, or the start of a sustained climb.

What if prices rise further?

If oil prices continue moving higher – especially toward US$100 a barrel – the risks would increase.

Inflation would be pushed higher. Central banks could face an uncomfortable choice: tolerate higher energy-driven inflation or keep interest rates higher for longer.

Financial markets would adjust quickly, and volatility could rise.

The most serious scenario would involve supply disruptions that constrain global output, increasing the risk of slower growth combined with persistent inflation.

A shock, but not yet a crisis

For now, the 6% jump in oil prices represents a clear inflationary impulse and a moderate drag on growth. It complicates the outlook, but does not resemble past energy crises.

What matters most is persistence. If prices stabilise, the impact should be manageable. If they continue to climb, oil could again become a central driver of global inflation – and a renewed challenge for central banks.




Read more:
The oil price surge is just one symptom of a supply chain network that is not fit for this age of global tensions


The Conversation

Stella Huangfu does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.

ref. Why surging oil prices are a shock for the global economy – but not yet a crisis – https://theconversation.com/why-surging-oil-prices-are-a-shock-for-the-global-economy-but-not-yet-a-crisis-277228

Why did Iran bomb Dubai? A Middle East expert explains the regional alliances at play

Source: The Conversation – Global Perspectives – By Andrew Thomas, Lecturer in Middle East Studies, Deakin University

US-Israeli joint strikes on Iran over the weekend have seen war break out in the region once again and the death of Iran’s supreme leader. Iran has retaliated with volleys of ballistic missiles and drones targeted at Israel, but also several of its Persian Gulf neighbours.

Iran has launched hundreds of missiles and drones across the gulf, at targets in United Arab Emirates (UAE), Saudi Arabia, Oman, Bahrain, Kuwait and Qatar, grounding planes as a result. This is in spite of none of these nations coordinating officially with the US and Israel in their initial operations.

This is a deliberate strategy by the Iranian government, designed to exact early and substantial costs on its neighbours and overall stability in the region.

An unpopular neighbour

In spite of Iran’s relative size and military power in the region, the Iranian government is not well liked by its neighbours. At best, Iran is seen as a rival, at worst an adversary.

Saudi Arabia and Iran have spent more than a decade in a proxy war over Yemen.

Iran also claimed historical ownership over Bahrain as recently as December last year.

The rest of the gulf states, namely the UAE, Kuwait, Oman and Qatar, have fostered more pragmatic relations with Iran by keeping regular diplomatic channels open and offering to mediate disputes within the Gulf Cooperation Council.

Despite simmering tensions, Iran has never been in a direct military confrontation with any of these states.

So why send the bombs?

Almost all of the gulf states have one important thing in common: they all have security guarantees from the US and host US military bases.

Iran sees this as one of the most effective ways it can retaliate for a few reasons. Firstly, these bases are firmly in the range of its most plentiful ballistic missiles.

Bases in the gulf also have significant strategic value to the US. The base struck in Bahrain over the weekend was the headquarters of the US Fifth Navy Fleet.

Al Udeid Airbase, just outside of Doha, the capital of Qatar, was also targeted with Iranian ballistic missiles. Al Udeid is home to US Central Command (US-CENTCOM), coordinating military operations across the region. It’s also home to 10,000 US troops – the most in the area.

However, Iran is aware of how sophisticated US early warning systems are and likely doesn’t expect to significantly damage US infrastructure.

What’s the aim then?

Instead, the strategy is to make the region less stable and ensure all its neighbours feel it. It’s effectively vowing that if operations continue, the relative peace and prosperity the gulf has enjoyed will come to an end.

Iran is hoping its neighbours will see this as a war of choice by the US and Israel, with them being dragged into the hostilities. Gulf states will be forced to either double-down on their alliance with the US or work toward deescalation.

It’s not clear if this strategy will pay off. It’s possible this could lead to even more military pressure on Iran if the gulf states become more involved in operations.

At the same time, the increasingly strained relations between the gulf states and Israel over the last two years would likely make several of them reluctant to get more involved.

It’s also impossible for Iran to keep this strategy up indefinitely. Even though it has the region’s most extensive and varied arsenal of missiles, at some point it will run out of ordnance. Other countries may choose to just wait it out.

Iran has made this kind of action a signature of its long-held “forward defence” strategy – attacking targets far away from its borders to show the depth of its reach. Using its drone and missile arsenal is simply one way to tell the region, and the world, the regime will not go quietly.

Dragging the whole region into chaos

Alongside this, Iran has a damaged, but still far-reaching network of independent proxies across the region. Groups in Yemen, Iraq and Lebanon are likely to stay loyal to the Islamic Republic and employ long-term insurgent strategies in its name.

The Lebanese paramilitary group Hezbollah has already fired projectiles into Israel. This has restarted hostilities across the Lebanese border, opening up another front for Israel.

The Strait of Hormuz, through which 20% of the world’s oil travels, is another part of the region Iran can weaponise. Already, two oil tankers have been attacked in the strait and the price of Brent Crude has risen 13%.




Read more:
Trump and Netanyahu want regime change, but Iran’s regime was built for survival. A long war is now likely


Put another way, the extent of these attacks are a signal. These are not the same as the calculated deescalatory strikes Iran conducted in 2024 and 2025.

This war is existential for the Islamic Republic. Its strikes across the gulf are designed as a reminder that it will do all it can to drag the entire region into chaos, uncertainty and instability to save itself.

At a minimum, Iran wishes to create political consequences for all involved. The question is whether the regime will survive long enough for these consequences to have an effect.

The Conversation

Andrew Thomas does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.

ref. Why did Iran bomb Dubai? A Middle East expert explains the regional alliances at play – https://theconversation.com/why-did-iran-bomb-dubai-a-middle-east-expert-explains-the-regional-alliances-at-play-277218

Iran’s targeting of airport, ports and hotels in reaction to US strikes has forced Gulf nations onto front lines of a war they want no part in

Source: The Conversation – Global Perspectives – By Kristian Coates Ulrichsen, Fellow for the Middle East at the Baker Institute, Rice University

A yacht sails past a plume of smoke rising from the port of Jebel Ali following a reported Iranian strike in Dubai on March 1, 2026. Fadel Senna/AFP via Getty Images

Washington’s allies in the Persian Gulf have found themselves in a position they have long sought to avoid: on the front line and bearing the brunt of a widening Middle East conflict.

Having been dragged into a war of choice by the U.S. – one which many around the world are calling a war of aggression – all six Gulf Cooperation Council nations have been struck by Iranian retaliatory attacks in response.

Military facilities in Bahrain, Kuwait, Oman, Qatar, Saudi Arabia and the United Arab Emirates have all been hit. But the missiles and drones from Iran have been aimed at civilian infrastructure, too, including airport, ports and hotels in the opening days of U.S. and Israeli operations against Iran.

In scale and scope, the barrage marks a major departure from Iran’s previous response to being attacked by U.S. and Israeli airstrikes. In contrast, during a 12-day war in June 2025, Tehran only attacked one base in Qatar, and even then forewarned authorities in Doha.

Instead, what is occurring in the region is a scenario that planners in Persian Gulf capitals have long warned about: a deliberate attempt by Tehran to widen conflict and hit nations it sees as allied to the West.

As an expert on Gulf dynamics, I see the unfurling events as undoing years of work to de-risk the region and placing in jeopardy the unique selling point and business models that have underpinned the Gulf states’ global rise.

an entertainment building can be seen as a missile falls from the night sky, leaving a trail
An intercepted projectile falls into the sea near Dubai’s Palm Jumeirah archipelago on March 1, 2026.
Fadel Senna/AFP via Getty Images

A cornered regime fighting for survival

Ever since the Oct. 7, 2023, attacks by Hamas and other Palestinian militants on Israel, policymakers in the Gulf nations have sought to avoid the regionalization of conflict.

Qatar led the way in mediating between Israel and Hamas, while Oman has done the same with the U.S. and Iran. Meanwhile, Saudi Arabia has maintained regular dialogue with Iran to de-escalate regional tensions.

Each of the successive escalations between Israel and Iran – in April and October 2024 and then in June 2025, with the joint U.S.-Israeli strikes – brought the region closer to, without tipping over into, all-out war.

But Iran’s actions in the opening days following what Washington has named “Operation Epic Fury” have signaled that the comparative restraint it showed during the 12-day war is firmly off the table.

The Islamic Republic is now a cornered regime fighting for its survival. As such, it is lashing out and seeking to spread the pain to regional neighbors. The logic in this approach is that Gulf nations could put pressure on the U.S., which may fear the cascading costs of a prolonged regional conflict.

Gulf nations are also obvious targets for Iran. With Iran lacking the capability to hit the U.S. mainland through conventional weapons, the American military bases that dot the Gulf region are within the reach of Tehran’s ballistic arsenal.

Psychological impact on Gulf nations

The scale of the Iranian attacks on targets in the Gulf nations in the opening two days of the current conflict underscores the extent to which Iran’s response now differs from that of June 2025: In the first two days of the conflict, Iran had fired at least 390 ballistic missiles and 830 drones at the Gulf states. By comparison, the Iranian strike on the Al-Udeid air base in Qatar last year involved 14 ballistic missiles and was a one-off attack on a single target.

Air defense systems in Gulf nations have neutralized most of the incoming Iranian missiles, to date, and actual damage and casualties have been limited to a handful of deaths and injuries in the dozens.

But it is the intangible and psychological impact on Gulf cities under attack that threatens to inflict profound damage on the reputation and image of cities such as Dubai, Abu Dhabi and Doha. In recent years, Gulf Cooperation Council nations have presented the Gulf as an oasis of stability and havens to live and work.

This is especially the case for Dubai, which has marketed itself strongly as a hub for business and tourism. But it is also applicable to other Gulf nations as well, such as Qatar, which relies heavily on a steady stream of large-scale meetings and events.

Iran’s attacks on civilian infrastructure and soft targets – airports in Bahrain, Dubai, Abu Dhabi and Kuwait, and hotels in Bahrain and Dubai – serve to puncture this image of safe and secure Gulf capitals.

This choice of targets by Iran likely reflects a calculation that leaders in the Gulf countries would immediately feel the full impact of the war and push Washington hard to find a resolution and quick.

The subsequent targeting by Tehran on oil and gas facilities, including Ras Laffan in Qatar and Ras Tanura in Saudi Arabia, serves as a further and highly consequential step. It has already triggered a forceful response from Qatar, which shot down two Iranian jets on March 2.

There is concern among Gulf nations that the next step in the ladder of escalation could involve targeting the desalination plants that are so vital to overcoming water scarcity in the region.

Vulnerable to escalation

As critical hubs in the global economy by virtue of their reserves of oil and gas and centrality to international shipping and aviation, the Gulf nations are uniquely vulnerable to further escalation by Iran.

Dubai, Abu Dhabi and Doha have invested heavily in creating airlines that function as “super-connectors” capable of linking any two destinations worldwide with a stop in the Gulf. A Feb. 28 drone strike on Dubai International Airport, the world’s busiest for international travel, illustrated the impact that Iran’s asymmetric responses could have on the global hub model that has come to dominate world air travel.

Already, closure of airspaces over Qatar and the UAE, as well as in Bahrain and Kuwait, has stranded tens of thousands of passengers and created the biggest disruption to global travel since the COVID-19 pandemic.

In addition, cargo operations essential to local supply chains have been heavily impacted, at the same time that seaborne trade through the Strait of Hormuz has been similarly interrupted.

Whereas initial spikes in oil prices and insurance premiums at the start of the 12-day war last year fell away as it became clear that energy infrastructure was not significantly targeted, the opposite has happened this time.

Peril and uncertainty

But the short-term shock to the global economy is not what will be of primary concern to the Gulf Cooperation Council members. Not since the Gulf crisis of 1990-91, with the Iraqi invasion of Kuwait and subsequent Gulf War, has the region faced so much peril and uncertainty.

And that is what Iran’s leaders are banking on. The attacks across the Gulf by Tehran are not, after all, without strategy. The intent is to expand the conflict, thereby significantly raising costs to the U.S. and its partners in the Gulf.

Tehran’s hope is that the economic impact will encourage Gulf leaders to press Trump for an endgame. But in attacking capitals across the region, Iran risks perhaps doing the opposite: rupturing any chance of bettering ties with rivals in the region and instead pushing them further back into Washington’s orbit after a period of drift.

The Conversation

Kristian Coates Ulrichsen does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organization that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.

ref. Iran’s targeting of airport, ports and hotels in reaction to US strikes has forced Gulf nations onto front lines of a war they want no part in – https://theconversation.com/irans-targeting-of-airport-ports-and-hotels-in-reaction-to-us-strikes-has-forced-gulf-nations-onto-front-lines-of-a-war-they-want-no-part-in-277208