Rethinking Arab Security: Time to Reclaim Strategic Autonomy

Time to ask US to vacate military bases in Arabian Peninsula

The escalation following the Gaza War has triggered a reassessment across the Arab world. As the United States continues its unwavering support for Israel, a critical question is emerging: does reliance on external powers strengthen sovereignty—or steadily erode it?

For decades, the security architecture of the Persian Gulf has revolved around American military presence. Bases across Arab Emirates were meant to deter threats, particularly from Iran. Yet recent developments suggest this framework is far less reliable than assumed.

Strategic installations in the region have repeatedly faced missile and drone threats. Despite hosting advanced defense systems, these states remain vulnerable. This raises a fundamental concern: if such an extensive foreign military presence cannot ensure security, what purpose does it serve?

Washington’s singular focus on Iran has also narrowed the strategic outlook of its regional partners. While Iran pursues an assertive policy, reducing the region’s complexities to one adversary has allowed deeper structural weaknesses to persist.

The situation in the Strait of Hormuz further highlights this paradox. Despite heavy militarization, this critical corridor remains vulnerable, exposing the limits of externally driven security arrangements.

At the same time, emerging narratives—whether verified or not—have fueled a growing trust deficit. Questions around the origin of attacks and the effectiveness of defense commitments have intensified doubts about the current security model.

Against this backdrop, a strategic shift is imperative. Arab states must move beyond dependency and reassess their reliance on external powers, while opening channels of engagement with regional actors, including Iran.

The conclusion is increasingly unavoidable: Arab Emirates must begin a phased recalibration of their security framework—one that could ultimately require asking the United States to vacate its military bases.

Such a move would reflect not hostility, but strategic maturity.

Strait of Hormuz: Mandating Force, Manufacturing Legitimacy

The draft resolution before the United Nations Security Council, fronted by Bahrain, is not a neutral instrument to secure maritime trade—it is an attempt to manufacture legal cover for the use of force against Iran. Cloaked in the language of “defensive necessity,” it effectively authorizes escalation while evading the question that matters most, who set this crisis in motion?

The closure of the Strait of Hormuz did not occur in isolation. It followed coordinated strikes by the United States and Israel on Iranian territory—reportedly at a time when nuclear negotiations were still underway. That decision did not just derailed diplomacy; it rendered it irrelevant. Yet, the diplomatic narrative that followed has been predictably selective - Iran’s response is branded destabilizing, while the initiating use of force is quietly normalized.

This is not inconsistency—it is doctrine. The same Council that failed to act during the devastation of Gaza, paralyzed by repeated vetoes, now finds urgency in authorizing force under elastic terminology. “All defensive means necessary” is not a stabilizing clause; it is a blank cheque. Once endorsed, it lowers the threshold for military action under the imprimatur of international legitimacy.

Crucially, the façade of consensus is already cracking. China has warned that authorizing force would legitimize indiscriminate escalation. Russia and France have disrupted procedural unanimity, exposing the geopolitical fractures beneath the resolution. This is not collective security—it is contested power politics dressed up as multilateralism.

Meanwhile, Donald Trump continues to escalate rhetorically and militarily without presenting a credible pathway to reopening the Strait or stabilizing energy flows. Oil markets have already reacted, underscoring a simple truth: escalation without strategy is not deterrence—it is risk exported to the global economy.

Iran, hardened by decades of sanctions and isolation, is not capitulating—it is recalibrating. Its threat to restrict maritime passage is not an act of adventurism; it is leverage in the face of sustained pressure. To deny that context is to strip the crisis of causality and reduce diplomacy to theatre.

What is being constructed here is not a ceasefire framework but a hierarchy of compliance. The demand is not de-escalation—it is submission. And submission, when enforced through selective legality, does not produce stability; it breeds prolonged confrontation.

If adopted, this resolution will not secure the Strait of Hormuz. It will secure a precedent—one where force is legalized after the fact, where power dictates principle, and where the language of international order is repurposed to justify its erosion.

Why should world bear brunt of Trump’s miscalculation?

After reviewing reports of Donald Trump’s recent address to the American public, a number of observations emerge:

1. The president of a global superpower appears detached from ground realities, almost operating in a state of strategic illusion. Either he is not adequately heeding intelligence assessments, or those assessments themselves are failing him.
2. There is a persistent refusal to acknowledge that Iran has demonstrated considerable resilience—both as a state and as a military actor with indigenous capabilities. The stated objectives of regime change and meaningful degradation of its nuclear and missile assets remain largely unfulfilled.
3. His European allies are visibly reluctant to associate themselves with a war widely perceived as initiated under the influence of Benjamin Netanyahu. This hesitation underscores growing transatlantic unease.
4. While Trump may have managed to secure political loyalty at home to fend off institutional challenges, the broader sentiment within the United States is increasingly uneasy. Public discontent is no longer easy to contain.
5. The notion of occupying Kharg Island borders on strategic fantasy. Iran is not Venezuela; any such misadventure could prove disastrously costly, with airborne troops facing overwhelming resistance within hours rather than days.
6. Reports suggesting the withdrawal or repositioning of US naval assets reflect an uncomfortable reality: modern asymmetric warfare—particularly drone and missile capabilities—has altered the battlefield in Iran’s favor.
7. Even if financial resources—reportedly in the range of $200 billion—are available, the sustainability of logistics and supply chains remains questionable. Wars are not won by funding alone, but by operational continuity.

Recent reporting also indicates that while Trump claimed progress and “mission success,” he offered no clear exit strategy, even as global markets reacted negatively and oil prices surged amid fears of prolonged conflict.

Therefore, the insistence on Iran’s “unconditional surrender” appears increasingly detached from strategic reality. A more pragmatic course would be to engage with some of Tehran’s terms and seek an end to what is fast becoming a protracted and costly conflict.

Why should the global economy—and indeed the wider international community—be compelled to absorb the consequences of what increasingly resembles a strategic miscalculation driven by one leader, especially when that leader faces growing skepticism at home?

Ceasefire or Strategic Overreach? Washington’s Iran Dilemma

The confrontation between the United States and Iran has entered a familiar but dangerous phase: both sides speak of ceasefire, yet their conditions make peace increasingly elusive.

At the center of this standoff lies the Strait of Hormuz—a vital artery for global energy flows. Washington’s primary demand is its immediate reopening, coupled with far-reaching conditions: rollback of Iran’s nuclear program, curbs on its missile capabilities, and disengagement from regional allies. In effect, the United States is seeking not merely de-escalation, but a strategic reordering of Iran’s regional posture.

Tehran, unsurprisingly, views these demands as excessive. Its counter-conditions—cessation of attacks, guarantees against future aggression, and compensation for war damages—reflect a sovereignty-driven approach. Most critically, Iran insists on recognition of its authority over Hormuz, transforming a geographic chokepoint into a symbol of national leverage.

This divergence reflects a deeper divide. The United States frames the ceasefire in terms of global security and stability; Iran frames it in terms of sovereignty and deterrence. Each side demands that the other act first—Washington insisting on compliance before relief, and Tehran demanding guarantees before concessions.

It is within this context that the strategy of President Donald Trump invites scrutiny. By advancing what appears to be a maximalist framework, Washington risks conflating ceasefire with capitulation. Such an approach may project strength, but it also narrows the diplomatic space necessary for de-escalation.

There is also a structural contradiction. While the United States seeks secure and uninterrupted maritime flows, its pressure-heavy strategy may incentivize Iran to tighten, rather than loosen, its grip over the Strait. The sequencing problem—each side waiting for the other to move first—has effectively locked diplomacy in place.

Ultimately, the trajectory of this conflict suggests that both Washington and Tehran may be overestimating what force alone can achieve. While US strategy risks prolonging a conflict it seeks to shape, Iran too faces economic strain and the long-term costs of sustained confrontation.

What is increasingly evident is that neither side is positioned for a clear or lasting victory. Instead, the burden is shifting outward. Energy markets remain unsettled, trade flows uncertain, and inflationary pressures persistent—leaving much of the global economy to absorb the consequences of a conflict it neither initiated nor controls.

If this impasse endures, the outcome may not be defined by who wins the war, but by who best avoids its costs. And on that count, the rest of the world may already be losing.