As the Iran war drags on, members of the Gulf Cooperation Council (GCC)—Bahrain, Kuwait, Oman, Qatar, Saudi Arabia, and the United Arab Emirates—face an acute paradox. They still depend on the United States for protection from Iran. But that protection has proved its limits while simultaneously increasing the risk of Iranian attacks.
In response, the GCC states have adopted several overlapping strategies. They continue to cooperate with the United States, particularly to defend militarily against Iranian strikes. But at the same time, they are diversifying their regional security relationships, pursuing diplomacy, and, when necessary, engaging directly with Tehran. The last of these measures may seem duplicitous, but for Gulf states, it is a necessary survival mechanism. What’s more, a long war with rising costs may push the Gulf states toward greater even accommodation with Tehran.
As the Iran war drags on, members of the Gulf Cooperation Council (GCC)—Bahrain, Kuwait, Oman, Qatar, Saudi Arabia, and the United Arab Emirates—face an acute paradox. They still depend on the United States for protection from Iran. But that protection has proved its limits while simultaneously increasing the risk of Iranian attacks.
In response, the GCC states have adopted several overlapping strategies. They continue to cooperate with the United States, particularly to defend militarily against Iranian strikes. But at the same time, they are diversifying their regional security relationships, pursuing diplomacy, and, when necessary, engaging directly with Tehran. The last of these measures may seem duplicitous, but for Gulf states, it is a necessary survival mechanism. What’s more, a long war with rising costs may push the Gulf states toward greater even accommodation with Tehran.
Given the war’s mounting economic, material, and human costs, it’s no surprise that GCC frustration with Washington has surfaced. In mid-August, the Washington Post quoted one Gulf official as saying, “Trump started this war … and we are paying the price.” The Gulf states have little choice but to stick with their main protector while the drones and missiles are flying, but they are nonetheless growing more nuanced and less U.S.-centric as the conflict drags on.
The largest and most influential GCC member, Saudi Arabia, offers perhaps the clearest example of how the Gulf states are seeking to diversify their security strategy. Prior to the war, Saudi Arabia sought a formal, NATO-style mutual defense treaty with the United States, one that would more forcefully obligate Washington to come to Riyadh’s aid in the event of an attack. Additionally, Riyadh sought advanced weapons systems, intelligence-sharing, and basing arrangements to deter the threat from Iran. In the end, under the November 2025 Strategic Defense Agreement, Saudi Arabia obtained a less binding agreement but secured approval to obtain advanced F-35 fighter jets. It was a compromise that, while falling short of Riyadh’s wishes, at least signaled the kingdom’s top-tier relationship with Washington.
When war came, Saudi Arabia found itself with an ally that eschewed consultations, vacillated on war aims and strategy, was unable to fully protect the region from Iran’s counterattacks, and later declined Saudi requests for direct U.S. airstrikes when the war reignited fighting with the Houthis in Yemen. Still, Riyadh reportedly engaged in mostly defensive military cooperation with Washington, sharing intelligence and even, in late July, participating in a joint strike against Iranian-backed Shiite militia proxies in Iraq.
But Saudi Arabia also took additional measures, allowing Pakistan to deploy 8,000 troops, a fighter jet squadron, and additional military equipment to the kingdom by May. As Houthi attacks in the Red Sea escalated, Riyadh in July announced the Multinational Maritime Defense Alliance, made up of 13 regional partners, in an attempt to protect that strategic waterway. Finally, Saudi Arabia expanded its bilateral alliance with Pakistan to include Turkey, signing the Mecca Joint Defense Agreement in August, with an unambiguous collective security clause and a permanent secretariat in Riyadh.
Saudi Arabia also repeatedly sought to restrain the United States when its moves threatened additional collateral damage in the region. In early May, as the Trump administration attempted to open the Strait of Hormuz by force by sending naval convoys into the Persian Gulf under Operation Project Freedom, Saudi Arabia, fearing escalation, refused to allow the United States use of its bases and airspace, a decision that reportedly led the administration to call off the operation.
A few weeks later, Trump balked again after Saudi Crown Prince Mohammed bin Salman, along with the leaders of Qatar and the UAE, asked him to hold off, arguing that the GCC states would pay the price for another round of strikes. Finally, in early August, when Trump threatened Iran with “levels of Military Terror, Strength, and Power not seen since World War II,” the crown prince, along with other GCC leaders, once again urged Washington to de-escalate. Trump subsequently called off the planned attack, saying that appeals from Saudi Arabia, Qatar, and the UAE had influenced his decision.
But while Saudi Arabia has the influence to build a regional security coalition and make a call to the White House when things go sideways, smaller GCC states such as Oman find themselves with less leverage. With a population of 5.4 million compared with Iran’s 88 million, and a similar disparity in military capabilities, Oman has long relied on a policy of pragmatic coexistence with Iran.
From the start of the conflict, Muscat has played its hand deftly, relying on strategic ambiguity and acting as an intermediary among Tehran, the GCC, and Washington. Yet despite Muscat’s outreach, Iran has likely struck Omani territory and sown naval mines around—and potentially within—its territorial waters, even as it negotiates with Muscat over an arrangement to manage the Strait of Hormuz. At the same time, Omani diplomacy has occasionally drawn Washington’s ire: Trump has threatened Oman with military action on at least two occasions, most recently warning in August that the United States would bomb Oman if its diplomacy got “in the way” of U.S. objectives.
The UAE, for its part, has taken a more hawkish stance toward Iran, but Abu Dhabi has also engaged in back-channel negotiations with Tehran to protect its interests. This should not be surprising, given the UAE’s historical relationship with Iran. The UAE—Dubai in particular—has long hosted a large Iranian expatriate community with strong business ties to the country. As a result, prior to Abu Dhabi’s August decision to cut commercial ties, more than 30 percent of Iran’s imports came from or through the UAE. But despite this, the UAE could not escape the larger regional conflict. Iran’s efforts to exploit the vacuums created by the wars in Iraq, Syria, and Yemen, the UAE’s recognition of Israel under the 2020 Abraham Accords, and the growing threat posed by Iranian-backed proxies to Gulf infrastructure—which became particularly tangible in January 2022, when the Houthis launched a series of drone and missile attacks against Abu Dhabi—all contributed to worsening relations between the two countries.
At the start of the war, the UAE withstood a higher volume of Iranian infrastructure attacks than any other GCC member. It reportedly began a covert air campaign in the opening days of the conflict, coordinated with the United States and Israel, that included an early April strike on Iran’s Lavan Island oil refinery, near the tail end of an intensifying cycle of tit-for-tat attacks on critical infrastructure. In late April, reports began to surface that the UAE secretly coordinated with Israel to deploy an Israeli Iron Dome air defense battery operated by active-duty Israel Defense Forces personnel on Emirati soil. In early May, Iran struck the UAE’s Fujairah Oil Industry Zone, the Middle East’s largest commercial storage capacity for refined oil products. Later that month, a drone launched from Iraqi territory struck an electrical generator adjacent to the UAE’s Barakah nuclear power plant.
While all of this, on the surface, seemed to enhance the UAE’s reputation as the region’s “Little Sparta,” behind the scenes Abu Dhabi was reportedly pursuing a back-channel deal with Tehran. In June, Reuters reported that the UAE had agreed to provide as much as $20 billion to Iran in exchange for a cessation of hostilities against Emirati infrastructure.
While Abu Dhabi categorically denied the deal, it appears that the agreement may have yielded a temporary, selective cease-fire. That month, overall attacks in the region declined following the signing of the ill-fated Memorandum of Understanding. More tellingly, when the MOU began to unravel and tit-for-tat strikes resumed in July, culminating in nearly two weeks of continuous U.S. attacks against Iran, Iran refrained from striking Emirati territory as part of its usual retaliation. The pattern held until mid-August, when Tehran struck two tankers linked to the Abu Dhabi National Oil Co. and launched a ballistic missile into Emirati territorial waters, prompting Abu Dhabi to suspend trade and financial transactions with Tehran.
Qatar, a small, prosperous state that hosts Al Udeid Air Base—the largest U.S. air base in the region—likewise found it necessary to balance its relationship with Iran. Qatar was engaged in U.S.-Iranian negotiations when the United States and Israel launched the war, and it opposed regional escalation from the start. When the war started, Doha claimed that it was not a party to the conflict, did not allow the United States to use Qatari airspace for offensive operations, and continued to maintain diplomatic channels with Tehran, later resuming a key role in U.S.-Iranian mediation.
Qatar’s preference for diplomacy with Tehran stems in part from the fact that the two share the North Field-South Pars gas reservoir, the world’s largest natural gas field. According to the Washington Post, Qatar approached Iran at the outset of the war to protect its Ras Laffan gas complex, the onshore processing and export hub next to its North Field complex, offering to shut down the facility in exchange for an Iranian agreement not to strike it. Doha denied making the offer, and Iran subsequently struck Ras Laffan with a ballistic missile in March in retaliation for an Israeli strike against Iran’s South Pars offshore gas facility. The attacks knocked out approximately 17 percent of Qatar’s liquefied natural gas export capacity, resulting in an estimated $20 billion in lost annual revenue.
As with the rest of the GCC, Kuwait proclaimed neutrality at the outset of the conflict but at times found it necessary both to restrain Washington and to respond to Iranian pressure. Like Saudi Arabia, Kuwait temporarily restricted U.S. use of its bases and airspace when the United States launched Operation Project Freedom in May, lifting the restrictions several days after the operation was paused. As Iranian attacks against Kuwait intensified in July, Kuwait and Bahrain reportedly carried out a covert strike against Iranian drone and missile storage facilities, though Kuwait denied taking part in the operation. But while frustration with the war has risen in Kuwait, it remains closer to Washington than many of its neighbors. In large part, this is a legacy of the first Gulf War, when the United States restored Kuwait’s sovereignty and began a U.S. military presence in the country.
As the only GCC state conceivably exposed to an overland threat from Iran, Kuwait has further incentive to remain squarely under the U.S. security umbrella. In May, Kuwaiti forces captured four armed men that Kuwaiti authorities later identified as Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps operatives on its territory. In July, an Iranian lawmaker publicly floated the possibility of ground attacks on Kuwait if the United States launched a ground war against Iran. Through all of this, Kuwait has continued to uphold its public claim of neutrality, denying that it had allowed any U.S. attack from its territory or participated in any direct attacks on Iran.
Though the individual Gulf states’ strategic responses to the war have varied, they are all based on the same basic elements: continued reliance on U.S. protection; diversification of regional security relationships and defense arrangements; and, finally, efforts to shape Iran’s behavior through back-channel engagement, reported quid-pro-quo arrangements, and intermittent attempts to restrain the U.S. or distance themselves from U.S. operations.
Yet all these strategies have shown their limits. As Qatar’s and the UAE’s experiences with back-channel negotiations have demonstrated, selective accommodation offers no guarantee of insulation from Iranian coercion or attack. Nor has continued reliance on Washington provided complete protection. As the conflict stretched for weeks into months, threatening greater collateral damage in the region and straining U.S. stocks of critical munitions, Washington increasingly shifted from military to economic coercion, leaving its Gulf allies caught in a protracted conflict with no clear end.
All statements of fact, opinion, or analysis expressed are those of the author and do not reflect the official positions or views of the U.S. government. Nothing should be construed as asserting or implying U.S. government authentication of information or endorsement of the author’s views.