View from Saudi Arabia | Cushioning the blow
Geography and preparation helped Saudi Arabia stave off the immediate blows of the war. However, the worst outcome could be a conflict that leaves Iran not weaker, but angrier and more aggressive
At a moment of acute regional tension, the immediate question was simple: how did the war feel inside Saudi Arabia? The answer was complex. Saudi Arabia is the size of western Europe, and the experience of the war varied sharply by geography. The Eastern Province, overseeing the Gulf and closer to Iran, felt it differently from the western or central regions like Riyadh or Jeddah. That scale mattered. In practical terms, even if something happened in one part of the country, people elsewhere did not feel its effects directly. That was one reason why the war felt less intense here than in some neighbouring, smaller-sized Gulf countries.
Another factor is political. Iran was arguably violating the Beijing Declaration of 2023, which pushed for a five-point plan to ensure regional peace, including cessation of attacks in the Gulf region, but Saudi Arabia was respecting it. That meant restraint—no US attacks launched from Saudi territory or airspace towards Iran. This helped limit direct escalation.
There were also structural reasons. Saudi Arabia has strong security arrangements, including recent agreements with the United States and longstanding ties with Pakistan. More importantly, it has a well-armed and well-resourced military. Bringing Saudi Arabia, Custodian of the Two Holy Mosques, directly into the conflict would dramatically escalate the situation, potentially igniting a much wider regional crisis. That risk alone acted as a deterrent. For now, there is visible restraint across the region, thanks to an 11th-hour ceasefire brokered by Pakistan with Chinese backing.
That said, the threat was real. For weeks, there were almost daily attacks—ballistic missiles and drones—most of which were intercepted. The targets were largely economic: oil facilities such as those in the southeast oil field of Al Shaiba. This aligned with a broader strategy—to make the war economically costly for everyone rather than purely ideological. When you consider that Bahrain, Kuwait and Qatar have already seen disruptions to their energy production, even partial outages add up. A million barrels a day taken offline is not just a regional issue but a global one.
Saudi Arabia, however, managed to cushion the blow. Geography helped, but so did preparation. One of the key tools was the East-West Pipeline, or Petroline, built in the early 1980s as a contingency against precisely this kind of disruption. It allows oil from the Eastern Province to be transported westwards and shipped via the Red Sea port of Yanbu, bypassing chokepoints like the Strait of Hormuz. In the current situation, Saudi Arabia managed to route roughly 70 per cent of its output through this pipeline—a significant achievement under crisis conditions.
But if the physical impact was contained, the economic impact is only beginning. It would be a mistake to assume business as usual. Even if a temporary truce is in place, and the war ended tomorrow, recovery would not be immediate. For instance, Qatar’s LNG facilities, currently offline, would take weeks to restart. That is lost revenue in a highly time-sensitive global market. A recent United Nations estimate puts the cost to Gulf countries at around $200 billion—and that is likely conservative. It does not account for lost opportunities or delayed diversification plans. Countries that were investing heavily in tourism, technology and non-oil sectors will now face a pause in confidence.
The longer the war continues, the higher the cost. And the effects will not be confined to the Gulf. Major energy importers—India, China, Japan—have already felt the pressure. Supply constraints and bottlenecks pushed prices up, with ripple effects across global markets. Markets may have reacted instantly, but the real economic pain comes later. The pandemic is a useful comparison: the deepest impacts were felt years after the initial shock. This war is likely to follow a similar pattern.
Tourism and events have already taken a hit. Major gatherings—from Formula One in Jeddah to some international conferences—have been postponed. These decisions are inevitable; large-scale events cannot proceed in the shadow of conflict. Saudi Arabia’s long-term ambitions—Expo 2030, the 2034 World Cup—remain intact, but in the short to medium term, there will be disruption.
The broader question, however, is political: where does Saudi Arabia stand in this war? The answer is clear. This is not a war we wanted, advocated, or lobbied for. There has been speculation to the contrary, but it is incorrect. Saudi Arabia’s position has been consistent: the primary concern is the chaos that could follow if the war is mishandled. The worst outcome would be a conflict that leaves Iran not weaker, but angrier and more aggressive. The desired outcome is straightforward in principle: an Iran incapable of harming its neighbours, whether through missiles, militias or nuclear capability. Whether that outcome is achieved through regime change or behavioural change is secondary. What matters is containment.
THE TAMING OF IRAN
What this war has demonstrated, however, is the nature of the Iranian regime. Indiscriminate attacks—on civilian areas in the UAE, Bahrain, and even Oman—underscore the extent of the threat. Oman, notably, has long been one of Iran’s closest diplomatic partners, yet it too has been targeted. This is not just a regional issue. It is a global one. Energy markets, trade routes and economic stability are all at stake.
So, how do you achieve this “contained Iran”? There are only two paths: negotiation or force. Saudi Arabia’s preference remains clear—diplomacy first. Multiple countries, including Oman and Pakistan, have stepped forward to mediate. Until every diplomatic avenue is exhausted, escalation is seen as counterproductive. Force is viewed as a last resort, not a first option. This is where the unpredictability of Iran becomes central. Unlike conventional states, the regime does not operate on standard cost-benefit logic. There is an ideological dimension that complicates deterrence. Threats alone may not achieve the desired outcome. Even more logical voices within, or that have formerly served the regime, such as former foreign minister Javad Zarif, were reprimanded for publicly voicing their concern and highlighting the devastating economic toll this war will have on Iran.
This also shaped Saudi Arabia’s own military calculus. The question was not whether Saudi Arabia could join the fight; it already considered itself part of the conflict, given that it was being attacked. The question was what role it should play. From a strategic standpoint and up until this point, joining direct military operations alongside the United States and Israel would not have added meaningful firepower. Instead, Saudi Arabia’s most significant contribution was stabilising global energy markets. That is not a passive role; it is a critical one. Ensuring supply continuity, maintaining infrastructure and providing logistical alternatives for neighbouring countries were all part of this effort. Escalating militarily would have risked exposing vital oil infrastructure, triggering a far greater global crisis. For us, the priority was clear: protect citizens and residents, and maintain stability as we await the outcome of the two-week ceasefire that has been announced. This approach has also helped keep casualties relatively low across the Gulf.
THE FUTURE TRAJECTORY
Looking ahead, there are concerns about investor confidence and the “safe harbour” image of the Gulf. But history suggests resilience. Kuwait was invaded in 1991; today, it is fully reintegrated into global economic life. Crises do not define countries—responses do. What is visible now is strong cooperation among Gulf states. Saudi Arabia has opened its infrastructure to neighbours, facilitated logistics and supported stranded residents. There is a sense that the GCC (Gulf Cooperation Council) is acting as a cooperative bloc, not a competitive one. That unity will be key to recovery.
Another question that arises is regional balance. If Iran is weakened, does Israel emerge as the dominant power, and is Saudi Arabia comfortable with that? The answer is pragmatic. Israel is already a strong military power. But it has never fired missiles or drones at Saudi Arabia. Iran has, and consistently over decades. At present, Iran is seen as the more immediate threat. At the same time, Saudi Arabia’s long-term vision is not built on confrontation. The idea of an integrated, peaceful region—including both Iran and Israel—remains. But that vision requires conditions: Iran must stop destabilising activities, and Israel must address the Palestinian question. There is no ideological opposition to coexistence, only practical conditions.
On mediation, efforts led by Pakistan, with support from China, have shown some last-minute results. But peace is inherently more complex than war. Each side seeks to preserve its position, making negotiations difficult. Still, the stakes are global. Ending the war is not just a regional priority, it is an international one.
For expatriates, including nearly 3 million Indians in Saudi Arabia, life remains largely normal. Governments across the Gulf have emphasised equal protection for citizens and residents. Repatriation options have been provided, but day-to-day life continues with minimal disruption. Finally, on worst-case scenarios—such as attacks on critical infrastructure like desalination plants—Saudi Arabia’s message is one of preparedness. Multiple contingencies are in place, and the armed forces remain on high alert. Restraint should not be mistaken for weakness. Saudi Arabia has the capability to respond if required. But for now, the strategy is deliberate: avoid escalation, stabilise markets, and push for a diplomatic resolution. War, after all, is easy to start. Peace is much harder to achieve.
—Faisal J. Abbas is Editor-in-Chief, Arab News, Riyadh
At a moment of acute regional tension, the immediate question was simple: how did the war feel inside Saudi Arabia? The answer was complex. Saudi Arabia is the size of western Europe, and the experience of the war varied sharply by geography. The Eastern Province, overseeing the Gulf and closer to Iran, felt it differently from the western or central regions like Riyadh or Jeddah. That scale mattered. In practical terms, even if something happened in one part of the country, people elsewhere did not feel its effects directly. That was one reason why the war felt less intense here than in some neighbouring, smaller-sized Gulf countries.
Another factor is political. Iran was arguably violating the Beijing Declaration of 2023, which pushed for a five-point plan to ensure regional peace, including cessation of attacks in the Gulf region, but Saudi Arabia was respecting it. That meant restraint—no US attacks launched from Saudi territory or airspace towards Iran. This helped limit direct escalation.
There were also structural reasons. Saudi Arabia has strong security arrangements, including recent agreements with the United States and longstanding ties with Pakistan. More importantly, it has a well-armed and well-resourced military. Bringing Saudi Arabia, Custodian of the Two Holy Mosques, directly into the conflict would dramatically escalate the situation, potentially igniting a much wider regional crisis. That risk alone acted as a deterrent. For now, there is visible restraint across the region, thanks to an 11th-hour ceasefire brokered by Pakistan with Chinese backing.
That said, the threat was real. For weeks, there were almost daily attacks—ballistic missiles and drones—most of which were intercepted. The targets were largely economic: oil facilities such as those in the southeast oil field of Al Shaiba. This aligned with a broader strategy—to make the war economically costly for everyone rather than purely ideological. When you consider that Bahrain, Kuwait and Qatar have already seen disruptions to their energy production, even partial outages add up. A million barrels a day taken offline is not just a regional issue but a global one.
Saudi Arabia, however, managed to cushion the blow. Geography helped, but so did preparation. One of the key tools was the East-West Pipeline, or Petroline, built in the early 1980s as a contingency against precisely this kind of disruption. It allows oil from the Eastern Province to be transported westwards and shipped via the Red Sea port of Yanbu, bypassing chokepoints like the Strait of Hormuz. In the current situation, Saudi Arabia managed to route roughly 70 per cent of its output through this pipeline—a significant achievement under crisis conditions.
But if the physical impact was contained, the economic impact is only beginning. It would be a mistake to assume business as usual. Even if a temporary truce is in place, and the war ended tomorrow, recovery would not be immediate. For instance, Qatar’s LNG facilities, currently offline, would take weeks to restart. That is lost revenue in a highly time-sensitive global market. A recent United Nations estimate puts the cost to Gulf countries at around $200 billion—and that is likely conservative. It does not account for lost opportunities or delayed diversification plans. Countries that were investing heavily in tourism, technology and non-oil sectors will now face a pause in confidence.
The longer the war continues, the higher the cost. And the effects will not be confined to the Gulf. Major energy importers—India, China, Japan—have already felt the pressure. Supply constraints and bottlenecks pushed prices up, with ripple effects across global markets. Markets may have reacted instantly, but the real economic pain comes later. The pandemic is a useful comparison: the deepest impacts were felt years after the initial shock. This war is likely to follow a similar pattern.
Tourism and events have already taken a hit. Major gatherings—from Formula One in Jeddah to some international conferences—have been postponed. These decisions are inevitable; large-scale events cannot proceed in the shadow of conflict. Saudi Arabia’s long-term ambitions—Expo 2030, the 2034 World Cup—remain intact, but in the short to medium term, there will be disruption.
The broader question, however, is political: where does Saudi Arabia stand in this war? The answer is clear. This is not a war we wanted, advocated, or lobbied for. There has been speculation to the contrary, but it is incorrect. Saudi Arabia’s position has been consistent: the primary concern is the chaos that could follow if the war is mishandled. The worst outcome would be a conflict that leaves Iran not weaker, but angrier and more aggressive. The desired outcome is straightforward in principle: an Iran incapable of harming its neighbours, whether through missiles, militias or nuclear capability. Whether that outcome is achieved through regime change or behavioural change is secondary. What matters is containment.
THE TAMING OF IRAN
What this war has demonstrated, however, is the nature of the Iranian regime. Indiscriminate attacks—on civilian areas in the UAE, Bahrain, and even Oman—underscore the extent of the threat. Oman, notably, has long been one of Iran’s closest diplomatic partners, yet it too has been targeted. This is not just a regional issue. It is a global one. Energy markets, trade routes and economic stability are all at stake.
So, how do you achieve this “contained Iran”? There are only two paths: negotiation or force. Saudi Arabia’s preference remains clear—diplomacy first. Multiple countries, including Oman and Pakistan, have stepped forward to mediate. Until every diplomatic avenue is exhausted, escalation is seen as counterproductive. Force is viewed as a last resort, not a first option. This is where the unpredictability of Iran becomes central. Unlike conventional states, the regime does not operate on standard cost-benefit logic. There is an ideological dimension that complicates deterrence. Threats alone may not achieve the desired outcome. Even more logical voices within, or that have formerly served the regime, such as former foreign minister Javad Zarif, were reprimanded for publicly voicing their concern and highlighting the devastating economic toll this war will have on Iran.
This also shaped Saudi Arabia’s own military calculus. The question was not whether Saudi Arabia could join the fight; it already considered itself part of the conflict, given that it was being attacked. The question was what role it should play. From a strategic standpoint and up until this point, joining direct military operations alongside the United States and Israel would not have added meaningful firepower. Instead, Saudi Arabia’s most significant contribution was stabilising global energy markets. That is not a passive role; it is a critical one. Ensuring supply continuity, maintaining infrastructure and providing logistical alternatives for neighbouring countries were all part of this effort. Escalating militarily would have risked exposing vital oil infrastructure, triggering a far greater global crisis. For us, the priority was clear: protect citizens and residents, and maintain stability as we await the outcome of the two-week ceasefire that has been announced. This approach has also helped keep casualties relatively low across the Gulf.
THE FUTURE TRAJECTORY
Looking ahead, there are concerns about investor confidence and the “safe harbour” image of the Gulf. But history suggests resilience. Kuwait was invaded in 1991; today, it is fully reintegrated into global economic life. Crises do not define countries—responses do. What is visible now is strong cooperation among Gulf states. Saudi Arabia has opened its infrastructure to neighbours, facilitated logistics and supported stranded residents. There is a sense that the GCC (Gulf Cooperation Council) is acting as a cooperative bloc, not a competitive one. That unity will be key to recovery.
Another question that arises is regional balance. If Iran is weakened, does Israel emerge as the dominant power, and is Saudi Arabia comfortable with that? The answer is pragmatic. Israel is already a strong military power. But it has never fired missiles or drones at Saudi Arabia. Iran has, and consistently over decades. At present, Iran is seen as the more immediate threat. At the same time, Saudi Arabia’s long-term vision is not built on confrontation. The idea of an integrated, peaceful region—including both Iran and Israel—remains. But that vision requires conditions: Iran must stop destabilising activities, and Israel must address the Palestinian question. There is no ideological opposition to coexistence, only practical conditions.
On mediation, efforts led by Pakistan, with support from China, have shown some last-minute results. But peace is inherently more complex than war. Each side seeks to preserve its position, making negotiations difficult. Still, the stakes are global. Ending the war is not just a regional priority, it is an international one.
For expatriates, including nearly 3 million Indians in Saudi Arabia, life remains largely normal. Governments across the Gulf have emphasised equal protection for citizens and residents. Repatriation options have been provided, but day-to-day life continues with minimal disruption. Finally, on worst-case scenarios—such as attacks on critical infrastructure like desalination plants—Saudi Arabia’s message is one of preparedness. Multiple contingencies are in place, and the armed forces remain on high alert. Restraint should not be mistaken for weakness. Saudi Arabia has the capability to respond if required. But for now, the strategy is deliberate: avoid escalation, stabilise markets, and push for a diplomatic resolution. War, after all, is easy to start. Peace is much harder to achieve.
—Faisal J. Abbas is Editor-in-Chief, Arab News, Riyadh
