At the regional level, this war can reasonably be described as a “Third Gulf War.” A significant share of Iran’s missile and drone activity has been directed toward Gulf countries, placing sustained pressure on the region’s strategic core. At the same time, the Israeli–American confrontation with Iran has moved beyond the purely military or political. It is now unmistakably a global economic conflict, with consequences that ripple far beyond the Middle East.

This moment is particularly consequential for the United States. For more than a decade, analysts have warned of the erosion of order and norms within the international system. The central question now is stark: will this war fundamentally transform the existing unipolar order, or will the United States and Israel succeed in reshaping regional and global dynamics in line with their strategic interests?

Complicating matters further is the steady rise in global demand for oil and gas. Why is the appetite for energy continuing to grow, even amid a transition to renewables? And how might energy security become inseparable from national security, reshaping the global system in the process? Just as pressing is the question of Iraq—how the outcome of this conflict could redefine its political, economic, and strategic position.

From a realist perspective in international relations, the state remains the primary actor. Within this framework, states pursue two core objectives: survival and the expansion of power. Seen through this lens, the current war is not only decisive for Israel but existential for the Islamic Republic of Iran and the continuity of its political system.

International relations are shaped not only by the interaction of state and non-state actors but by broader patterns of behavior governed by rules, norms, and order. Rules are formal agreements—treaties, charters, trade frameworks, environmental accords, and territorial arrangements—that states are expected to follow. Norms, by contrast, are unwritten expectations. They lack legal force but carry considerable weight; the near-universal avoidance of nuclear weapons since World War II is one of the most powerful examples. Violations may not always trigger formal penalties, but they often invite global condemnation.

Order is the larger architecture that holds these elements together. Like harmony in music, it depends on shared understandings and adherence to common principles. When those principles erode, so too does stability.

Following the Cold War, the bipolar system gave way to a largely unipolar order led by the United States, which sought to shape global governance around liberal democratic principles—promising prosperity, peace, and security. But when rules, norms, and order begin to fracture, the system enters a period of uncertainty, forcing states to prepare for profound transformation.

Nowhere is this more visible than in the vulnerability of global chokepoints. Disruptions in critical maritime corridors have immediate and far-reaching consequences. When the Bab el-Mandeb Strait is threatened, roughly 40 percent of global trade is put at risk. A conflict in the Strait of Hormuz could cut off up to 95 percent of Japan’s oil imports, crippling its industrial base.

The current conflict has already disrupted the flow of 21 million barrels of oil per day through Hormuz. It has also affected 34 percent of chemical materials essential for food security and halted operations involving 138 ships and containers at the Port of Jebel Ali in the UAE.

For Iraq, the stakes are even more immediate. The country lacks a comprehensive energy security strategy in an increasingly volatile environment. Approximately 95 percent of its revenue comes from oil, most of it exported through the Basra Gulf and reliant on passage through Hormuz. This creates a profound structural vulnerability.

What was once theoretical has now become reality. Iraqi political elites are aware of the country’s core national interests, yet these priorities are often constrained by external influence—particularly from Iran.

This dynamic is visible in Iraq’s security landscape. Armed groups affiliated with Iran reportedly launched 555 drones and missiles in a single month, targeting areas within the Kurdistan Regional Government. These incidents underscore the state’s limited capacity to fully assert sovereignty. Under Articles 109 and 110 of the Iraqi Constitution, the federal government is responsible for safeguarding national stability. In practice, fulfilling that responsibility remains an ongoing struggle.

Strategically, Iraq should have diversified its oil export routes long ago. Political constraints have prevented this. The result is staggering: an estimated $9.6 billion in losses in a single month due to halted exports of roughly 3.5 million barrels per day. Alternative routes—such as a pipeline to Aqaba through Jordan—have faced strong Iranian opposition. A route to Baniyas in Syria remains inoperable due to conflict and infrastructure collapse.

Without diversification and deeper integration into global markets, Iraq risks losing its ability to maneuver economically and diplomatically in an increasingly competitive world.

Energy security, in this context, is inseparable from national security. Without it, governance falters, economic performance weakens, and social stability erodes. Regional actors have recognized this reality. Egypt, for example, has taken decisive steps to secure its energy supply. During the Gaza conflict, it signed a $35 billion agreement with Israel to import natural gas from the Leviathan field, with projected supplies reaching 130 billion cubic meters by 2040. Despite political sensitivities, the deal moved forward, and Egypt’s gas imports rose by 14 percent.

Iraq presents a stark contrast. In 2023, the Popular Mobilization Forces—closely aligned with Iran—had a budget of $2.6 billion. By 2025, that figure had risen to $3.5 billion, with personnel reaching 236,000. At the same time, these groups have launched attacks on critical infrastructure, including airports and oil facilities. This contradiction weakens state authority and undermines Iraq’s capacity to manage its primary economic resource.

In principle, states pursue sustainable development. In Iraq, however, decision-making authority is fragmented, and the state’s ability to exercise independent power remains limited. Under such conditions, foreign investment declines, as investors seek stability and predictability.

Despite global efforts to transition away from fossil fuels, demand continues to rise. The United States remains deeply dependent on hydrocarbons: 35 percent of its industry relies on natural gas, 25 percent on oil, and 12 percent on coal. In total, 72 percent of U.S. energy consumption still comes from fossil fuels.

The trend is global. Natural gas demand has risen from 2.74 trillion cubic meters in 2005 to a projected 4.29 trillion by 2025. Oil consumption has climbed from 84.7 million barrels per day in 2005 to more than 105 million today, with further increases expected.

Against this backdrop, the strategic importance of hydrocarbon resources is unmistakable. The United States and Israel maintain detailed intelligence on energy reserves across the region—from Egypt’s Zohr field to Cyprus’ Aphrodite and Israel’s Leviathan and Tamar fields, as well as reserves in Iraq and Syria. These resources are not merely economic assets; they are instruments of geopolitical power.

The pressure extends across the Gulf. Bahrain, for instance, has faced sustained attacks, with 186 missiles and 419 drones launched in a single month. The UAE, meanwhile, continues to confront longstanding territorial disputes with Iran while deepening its investments in regional energy infrastructure.

This conflict represents an existential challenge for parts of the Gulf, particularly the UAE, even as the threat profile differs for Oman and Saudi Arabia.

The broader context is a shifting global order. As Fareed Zakaria argued, the issue is not American decline but the rise of others—China, India, and a range of emerging powers. Scholars such as Joseph Nye and Robert Keohane describe this as a process of “power diffusion” and “power erosion,” marking a transition away from post–World War II dominance.

At the same time, global technology companies—from Microsoft and Meta to Alibaba and Huawei—have become central actors in shaping the international system, operating alongside states in defining power and influence.

The Middle East sits at the center of this transition. The region is pivotal in determining the balance of power between Asia and the West. And as Lenin once observed, there are moments when history accelerates—when decades unfold in weeks. This war may be one of them.

The world today is more fragmented, with no single power capable of reorganizing the global order. There is no unified strategy to address existential threats, whether climate change, artificial intelligence, or pandemics. This fragmentation underscores the urgency of coordinated global governance.

Energy security remains the linchpin. The conflict with Iran presents a stark binary: either its strategic posture is fundamentally altered, or the objectives of the United States and Israel are challenged. If diplomacy fails, the resolution may hinge on decisive action targeting Iran’s economic and military capacity—followed, inevitably, by a battle over narrative legitimacy.

The United States remains a dominant force, militarily and economically. For the Kurds, in particular, this moment offers opportunity—but only if it is matched by institutional strength, especially in energy governance.

Regardless of the outcome, Iraq will undergo profound change. The conflict will reshape its political economy, exposing vulnerabilities that have long constrained its sovereignty.

The war itself is unlikely to end quickly or cleanly. The strategy pursued by the United States and Israel appears phased, centered on control over trade routes and energy flows. Even temporary pauses in hostilities are unlikely to resolve underlying tensions.

Public opposition to war, both in the United States and globally, constrains immediate escalation. Yet the structural drivers of conflict remain. If regime change becomes a serious objective, southern Iran—particularly Khuzestan—will be central. Various opposition groups remain active, while U.S. and Israeli strikes have already targeted thousands of sites across the country.

The humanitarian consequences are predictable: displacement, suffering, and long-term instability. As John Mearsheimer has argued, militias suppressed in the short term often reemerge over time. The war may pause, but its disruptions—political, economic, and human—are likely to endure.