A mounting multi-front war has exploded in the Middle East, with more than a dozen countries either party to the conflict or caught up in it. On 28 February, Israel and the United States joined in launching massive airstrikes on Iran, hitting government offices and military installations, among other sites. The campaign’s immediate aim was to decapitate the Islamic Republic’s leadership, and it quickly achieved this goal. An early Israeli missile smashed into a Tehran building, killing the regime’s supreme leader, Ayatollah Ali Khamenei, along with several other senior government and military officials. But the broader objectives of the operation, which the U.S. has dubbed Epic Fury and Israel calls Roaring Lion, remain clouded in uncertainty. U.S. and Israeli officials have spoken, among other things, about ending Iran’s nuclear program, eliminating its missile stockpiles, sapping its naval power and “creating conditions” for the regime’s demise. What might be enough for them to declare victory is unclear. In the meantime, conflict has engulfed much of the region.

Iran had warned that, if attacked, it would take the fight to U.S. security partners, assets and personnel in the region, and it made good on the threat. It struck back immediately, unleashing barrages of missiles and armed drones at U.S. bases in Bahrain, Kuwait, Oman, Qatar, Saudi Arabia and the United Arab Emirates, as well as at Israel. Its drones have struck the U.S. embassies in Riyadh and Kuwait City. In subsequent days, it also fired at U.S. bases in Iraq, Jordan and Türkiye, along with a British base in Cyprus. Two of its drones have landed in Azerbaijan. This retaliation has been broader in scope than many expected, encompassing military and civilian infrastructure belonging to the Gulf Arab states. Hizbollah, formerly the strongest non-state actor in the “axis of resistance”, which Tehran has nurtured as part of its “forward defence” strategy, has fired salvoes at Israel, triggering a withering Israeli response including ominous warnings for civilians to evacuate southern Lebanon and swathes of the capital Beirut. On 5 March, Israel sent ground forces into the south and commenced heavy bombing of Beirut’s southern suburbs. In Iraq, Iran-backed groups have launched rockets at U.S. bases and diplomatic installations in both Iraq and neighboring countries, including Saudi Arabia. It is unclear what Tehran has in mind for its allies the Houthi rebels in Yemen, who appear to be laying low for the time being.

The conflict’s toll has already been steep. As of 6 March, Iranian authorities said more than 1,300 people had been killed in Iran, including at least 150 children at an elementary school in the southern city of Minab. At least 80 Iranian sailors died when a U.S. submarine sank an Iranian frigate off the coast of Sri Lanka. Iranian missile strikes have killed eleven Israelis. Six U.S. military personnel number among the dead, killed by an Iranian drone hitting their garrison in Kuwait. At least nine people have been killed in the Gulf Arab countries so far, and more than 200 in Lebanon. The war is also doing tremendous economic damage, for instance stifling oil and gas exports through the Strait of Hormuz.

The U.S. and Israel have offered a shifting set of rationales for setting off this firestorm. Early in the year, President Donald Trump threatened intervention to protect the protesters who had massed in Iran’s streets from a brutal regime crackdown. Though the regime did not stand down thereafter, and may indeed have repressed the dissent with greater energy, Trump stayed his hand, likely out of concern that U.S. forces in the Middle East were not postured to protect U.S. interests there should fighting escalate. As he sought to remedy that situation by sending an armada into the region, the U.S. focus shifted from humanitarian to nuclear concerns, with Trump repeatedly voicing his determination that the Islamic Republic never be allowed to acquire a nuclear weapon. He left the door open for a diplomatic settlement, however, and throughout February, even as it flooded the Middle East with military assets, the U.S. engaged in talks with Tehran, reportedly securing concessions that were unprecedented, if still less than satisfactory to the White House. Israel, for its part, seems to have been primarily concerned with Iran’s ballistic missile program, which the Islamic Republic had been rehabilitating since the twelve-day war of June 2025. On 2 March, Trump hinted at similar concerns, suggesting (implausibly, if U.S. intelligence agencies are to be believed) that Iran might “soon” have projectiles that could reach the continental U.S.

Nor did clarity on the rationale emerge after the war began. Jaws dropped worldwide when Secretary of State Marco Rubio offered yet another justification for U.S. action: that Israel was set on attacking Iran, and the U.S. knew Iran would respond with fire at U.S. bases, meaning that Washington had to strike first. But this effort at advancing a self-defence logic, which the White House might have hoped would explain its failure to seek authorisation from Congress for Epic Fury, was so transparently circular that administration officials have struggled to stick with it.

Still, despite confusion about U.S.-Israeli motives, and the seeming lack of an international law justification for starting the war, Washington has faced little meaningful pushback from its European allies, who continue to walk on eggshells for fear that the U.S. will cut off remaining support for Ukraine and pull back from its security commitments to the continent. While some (notably Norway, Sweden and Spain) have questioned the international legal basis for bombarding Iran, many leaders – including Kaja Kallas, the European Union’s chief representative for foreign policy – have directed their primary admonitions at Tehran for its indiscriminate attacks on Gulf Arab countries. This criticism is more than fair, as Iran has trained its sights on both military and civilian targets, but to focus on the reaction to the exclusion of the original transgression that plunged the Middle East into mayhem rather misses the point. (Some also argue that acquiescence in the U.S.-Israeli campaign against Iran undermines Europe’s stance against Russia’s war of aggression in Ukraine.)

As the first week of this new war in the Middle East draws to a close, and the world wonders anxiously how much longer it will go on, the fundamental question is what winning means for the United States. The early conversations defaulted to mathematics and guesswork: who will run out of interceptors or launchers first, for instance, or whether a catastrophic hit would shake the Trump administration’s commitment to the fighting. These are important questions, but they do not elucidate a theory of victory. Without one, the conflict could too easily settle into a grinding cycle of degradation, endurance and reconstitution. Breaking it would likely require one of a handful of outcomes: destroying Iran’s capabilities and deterring its rulers from reconstituting them; negotiating a deal that all parties adhere to; or ushering in a new regime in Tehran that takes fundamentally different course. It is not clear which of these endgames Washington is pursuing. On the morning of 6 March, Trump indicated a preference for the third, posting on social media that “there will be no deal with Iran except UNCONDITIONAL SURRENDER! After that, and the selection of a GREAT & ACCEPTABLE Leader(s) … we will work tirelessly to bring Iran back from the brink of destruction”. The stage thus seems set for a protracted showdown.

The war may yet produce upheavals inside Iran – mass unrest, a military takeover or fragmentation along ethnic lines – but these scenarios are as likely to yield prolonged chaos or a hardened successor regime as they are to deliver a more conciliatory Iran. They are contingencies, not objectives per se, and banking on them is its own form of strategic incoherence. Absent the emergence of clearer thinking, it may take a war-induced economic shock to force a reckoning before the military logic plays out: oil price spikes, paralysed shipping lanes and the buckling of the Gulf’s expatriate-driven economic model could produce costs that neither Washington nor its partners will be willing to sustain indefinitely.

In this 360-degree survey, Crisis Group experts offer their assessment of the war’s initial consequences for both the countries doing the firing and those in the line of fire.

For the Islamic Republic, the launch of U.S. and Israeli strikes posed two immediate challenges: maintaining cohesion at the top of the system and mounting a response despite being, once more, caught in a fight with conventionally superior forces.

The death of Supreme Leader Khamenei was a contingency the Iranian regime had long anticipated – if not under fire, then due to advancing age. It quickly put the wheels of succession in motion, appointing a transitional council composed of the heads of the executive and judicial branches, along with a member of the Guardian Council, the powerful clerical body that wields a veto over legislation and candidates for election, until a permanent replacement for Khamenei can be confirmed. 

But, for the time being, the exigencies of war and regime survival will be paramount. Succession deliberations, with all their formal trappings, are proceeding amid the emergency of continued U.S.-Israeli attacks, which aside from military facilities have hit both political figures and state forces tasked with defending the system from domestic dissent. Thus, while the designation of a new Supreme Leader will give an important signal as to what direction the regime intends to take – continuity in the mold of a Khamenei acolyte or, less likely, a shift toward a less dogmatic character – other figures like Ali Larijani, the secretary of the Supreme National Security Council, who has strong ties to the Revolutionary Guards, appear poised to exercise great influence over decision-making. Meanwhile, having violently suppressed a wave of anti-government unrest in January, the regime will be looking to counter any fresh mobilisation from below, especially as the U.S. and Israel urge Iranians, in President Trump’s words, to “take over” government. In the near term, the already substantial clout of the Revolutionary Guards could be decisive in determining both Iran’s political trajectory and its military tactics.

As for the latter, Iranian officials had warned throughout the U.S. military buildup preceding Epic Fury that Tehran would answer any attack with counter-attacks around the Middle East. Iran knows that its defences are no match for U.S.-Israeli airpower. Its network of non-state allies in the “axis of resistance” is not what it once was: an enervated Hizbollah and Iraqi Shiite armed groups have joined the battle, but for now, at least, the Houthis in Yemen are staying on the sidelines. Hence, the Islamic Republic has once more turned to its ballistic missiles and drones as its most potent means of retaliation. 

Missile fire at Israel was a predictable element of its response, but the breadth of its targets, in Gulf Arab states, Iraqi Kurdistan, Jordan, Türkiye, Azerbaijan and as far away as Cyprus, is unprecedented. Strikes on U.S. bases and embassies in the Gulf likely reflect Tehran’s sense that with its back against the wall, its best option is to raise the cost as quickly as possible for Washington’s allies. It calculates that the White House will not only face the prospect of a prolonged conflict it prefers to avoid but will also be pressed by regional partners keen to bring hostilities to a close. Yet this gambit could backfire dramatically, not just burning diplomatic bridges but also prompting Gulf states to shed their reticence about open cooperation with U.S. forces. Meanwhile, hardliners within the system believe that the Islamic Republic erred in exiting the ring during past exchanges of blows with the U.S. and Israel, rather than playing to what they perceive as the regime’s strength: its willingness to absorb more pain, for longer, than its adversaries. But here, too, a reality check could take the form of dwindling offensive power and deepening internal turmoil.

The early days of this conflict have already brought about a major development Iran’s leadership foresaw – Khamenei’s death – and a major challenge it has always sought to avoid: war with the U.S., Israel and maybe other U.S. allies in the region, coupled with the possibility of simultaneous confrontation with its domestic opposition. As was the case in June 2025, when it last faced Israeli and U.S. bombardment, the Islamic Republic’s strategy is premised on the notion that survival is victory. This time round, that proposition will be tested in extreme fashion. 

On 1 March, a day into the joint Israeli-U.S. attack on Iran, Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu said, “This combination of forces allows us to do what I have hoped to accomplish for 40 years: strike the terrorist regime right in the face”. Opinion polls and statements by opposition politicians show that most Israelis agree with him about the moment’s historical significance. Iran has long been a thorn in Israel’s side, having pledged itself to the annihilation of the Jewish state and sponsored a network of regional proxies that have staged deadly attacks. Now, with those proxies on the back foot, Israeli leaders view Iran’s nuclear program and accelerating development of ballistic missiles as perhaps the last remaining serious strategic threat to the Israeli project.

This sentiment, plus a widely shared sense of operational opportunity, explains the intensity of Israel’s attack and the government’s determination to pull the U.S. into the war. It also sheds light on why Israelis are willing to risk repeating the experience of June 2025, when, during the Israeli bombardment of Iran known as Operation Rising Lion, they spent twelve days hiding in shelters from Iranian missiles that ended up killing some 30 people. From Israel’s perspective, Rising Lion’s successor – Roaring Lion – has gone very well so far, perhaps even better than the 2025 campaign. The civilian death toll stands at eleven, nine in a single missile strike on Bet Shemesh, a small town in the centre of the country, as most Iranian salvoes have got tangled in thickets of Israeli and U.S. interceptors. Meanwhile, Israel’s attacks on Iran have been devastating. In a more dramatic repeat of the 2025 success, its first sorties appear to have killed not just Supreme Leader Khamenei but also, reportedly, as many as 40 senior military and intelligence commanders.

Meanwhile, Iran’s chief regional proxies, Hizbollah in Lebanon and the Houthis in Yemen, have added little or no useful support to Iran’s response thus far. It may be that the past two years of Israeli assaults on both have succeeded in degrading their capacities as well as their will to risk engaging Israel. The Israeli military announced triumphantly on 1 March that, over the past two years, it had eliminated “all” the senior officials in Iran’s “axis of resistance”. Hizbollah’s launch of a handful of primitive rockets on 2 March did little more than give Israel an excuse to hit back with massively greater force. Perhaps most cheering of all for Israelis is that, for the first time, they are fighting not as a U.S. proxy, or in covert collaboration with Washington, but as a full-spectrum part of the superpower’s war machine, using shared real-time intelligence (which apparently was crucial for the success of the attack that killed Khamenei), joint command-and-control systems and coordinated air defences. 

That is not to say that the war is on a glide path from the Israeli perspective. Some issues are mathematical: it is unclear how long Israel and the U.S. can keep firing from a limited stock of costly rocket interceptors at each incoming projectile. The question of who runs out of key munitions first – Israel or Iran – is perhaps the central operational question of the war right now. Other issues are political: as Israel increasingly emerges as a Middle Eastern hegemon, and its public tilts toward militaristic nationalism, it risks alienating the Arab states with which it has forged precious deals. Another worry is public opinion in the U.S., its most important external partner, where scepticism about the war is tinged by suspicions that it serves Israel’s interests more than those of the U.S.

Netanyahu speaks in millennial terms of destroying a mortal threat to the Jewish state, but he leaves unclear what exactly would constitute victory for Israel. Most likely, Israel will settle for achieving as much regime degradation and military damage in Iran as possible while the U.S. is still willing to be its active partner. Right now, moreover, the Trump administration and indeed much of official Washington shows signs of being caught up in war fever, with talk in the cabinet of putting U.S. boots on the ground and several Democrats speaking about appropriating additional funds to keep the conflict going. As long as this political climate in Washington endures, Israel will likely ride the wave. While others in the Middle East might fear the prospect of Iranian state collapse, with all the turbulence that could follow, it does not appear to bother Israel, which has long preferred weak, fragmented states in its vicinity to strong, cohesive ones.

Meanwhile, the Palestinians under Israeli occupation are once again bearing the costs of Israel’s military adventures. With all eyes trained on the Gulf, Israel summarily sealed off the Gaza Strip for the first three days of the war, subsequently allowing in aid (albeit in amounts far short of meeting needs) under U.S. pressure. In the West Bank, Israeli forces closed hundreds of checkpoints, locking 3 million Palestinians into isolated enclaves, while Israeli settlers exploited the clampdown to expand the reach of their dominance with near-total impunity.

The six Gulf Cooperation Council (GCC) countries – Saudi Arabia, the United Arab Emirates, Qatar, Kuwait, Bahrain and Oman – are paying a heavy price in a conflict that the U.S. and Israel initiated and they opposed. As of 5 March, Iran had launched 2,034 missiles and drones at U.S. military bases and other facilities on these states’ territory, as well as at national military sites, oil and gas infrastructure, seaports, airports, tankers and civilian buildings. The number of civilian casualties is at least nine. The economic toll has been enormous. Flights from all the Gulf state airports have been grounded or at least intermittently suspended, stranding hundreds of thousands of travellers, and traffic in the Strait of Hormuz is almost nil, as international shipping companies face skyrocketing insurance rates with their ships in danger of Iranian attack. The U.S. has offered to defray insurance costs, and France has announced the formation of an international naval coalition to escort commercial vessels in this vital maritime corridor. But even if these measures help, energy production has been severely disrupted. Qatar has halted operations at its biggest facility for exporting liquefied natural gas, while Saudi Arabia has done the same at its largest oil export terminal.

Despite differences in their attitudes toward Iran, all six GCC states are trying to walk a similarly narrow line as the conflict goes on. All of them have long feared becoming collateral damage in a war between the U.S./Israel and Iran, due largely to their hosting of U.S. bases, which might be used as launching pads for attacks on the Islamic Republic. They also have their own problems with Iran. For the past few years, however, Gulf states had been pursuing détente with Iran, opening their own diplomatic channels and (in the cases of Oman and Qatar) working to mediate between Tehran and Washington. In the lead-up to the war, Saudi Arabia and the UAE issued official statements saying they would not allow fire upon Iran from bases on their territory or by warplanes passing through their airspace. Many in Gulf capitals thought – or at least hoped – that Tehran would recognise those efforts and keep them out of any new hostilities, its forewarnings notwithstanding. Instead, Iran brought them into the war from day one and at a nerve-jangling scale.

Now the mood in most GCC capitals can be summed up in a word: crisis. The list of anxieties starts with how much damage they will sustain from the Iranian retaliation at present and how much more they may suffer in the future if the war does not end in a settlement that leaves them secure. These worries began building in June 2025, during the last Israeli-U.S. bombardment of Iran, when an Iranian missile struck a U.S. base in Qatar. They became much more acute a few months later, in September, when Israel tried to assassinate Hamas figures in the Qatari capital Doha. Together, these two incidents shattered illusions that another military confrontation between the U.S./Israel and Iran might leave the Gulf countries unscathed. In February, with the U.S. military buildup in the region under way, Iranian officials cautioned the Gulf states that attacks on their territory were possible. Even so, the missiles and drones came as a shock, particularly those that hit civilian infrastructure and residential areas. So far, most of the projectiles – over 1,270 – have been aimed at the UAE. Except for Bahrain, the GCC states have been able to intercept the great majority of drones and missiles. But many question whether they can keep knocking down missiles and drones at such a high rate as the war goes on. Qatar and the UAE have issued official statements dismissing such concerns. Gulf countries have requested replenishment of their stockpiles and other air defence assistance from their U.S. and European partners.

Gulf capitals are also anxious about what Washington has in mind for an endgame. They worry that the lack of clear strategic objectives augurs a long war that will wreak havoc on the region’s security and economies. They also wonder what the Gulf will look like when the conflict is over. Israel may well welcome Iran’s disintegration into a failed, fragmented state, which would be a persistent drag on regional peace and prosperity. The Trump administration has done nothing to allay this concern. Indeed, statements by President Trump and his secretary of defense suggest that the U.S prefers to wash its hands of whatever comes next in Iran.

Thirdly, Gulf leaders are apprehensive about the normalisation of an Israeli military free hand in the Middle East, including in their own countries. Signs of such an emboldened Israeli approach appeared with the September 2025 attack in Doha, but they are being magnified by the present conflict. The GCC states fear that Israel will increasingly consider itself entitled not only to destroy Iran’s capacity to threaten it but also to quash any other challenge to what they suspect are its hegemonic ambitions.

Finally, while the GCC would like to be able to look to Washington to help it manage all these concerns, there is an increasing sense that – much as these states must continue to mollify the U.S., given the importance of its security assistance – they cannot rely on it to rally to their side over the long haul. Not only do they see the U.S. helping Israel pursue its goals with present war, one launched over their objections, but they also doubt that Washington will support them in meeting the aforementioned challenges for as long as needed.

For the time being, the Gulf countries are signalling resolve, such as with individual and collective statements reserving the right to respond to Iranian aggression, but also making clear that none wishes to be pulled directly into a war that is not theirs – not least because of the optics of fighting alongside Israel or appearing to legitimise the war. Official statements emphasise the defensive nature of any military action they might take, while keeping all options on the table.

They are also looking to find common ground with outside actors, both to meet their immediate defence needs and to find a way out of the crisis. The UK and France have sent aircraft to help the Gulf states intercept Iran’s attacks, and France is sending its nuclear-fuelled aircraft carrier to the Mediterranean. Italy and Germany have also pledged to assist in air defence. GCC foreign ministers held an extraordinary meeting with top European Union representatives, who reaffirmed the bloc’s condemnation of the Iranian attacks and pledged continued support for diplomacy aimed at bolstering regional peace and security. Meanwhile, China announced it was dispatching a special envoy to mediate between the Arab Gulf countries and Iran. 

Around 48 hours into the latest Israeli-U.S. war with Iran, Tehran’s Lebanese ally Hizbollah (which doubles as a Shiite militia and a political party) stepped in. Since November 2024, when Israel and Lebanon ended a year of hostilities between Israel and a greatly weakened Hizbollah by signing a fragile ceasefire, the party-cum-militia had not fired upon Israel, despite persistent Israeli breaches of truce terms – including bombings and the occupation of some Lebanese territory. Early on 2 March, the group switched to attack mode, lobbing missiles and drones toward the Israeli coastal city of Haifa. Hizbollah claimed that the projectiles, none of which hit their targets, were retribution for the killing of Ayatollah Khamenei on the war’s first day.

Israel’s response to these ineffectual salvoes was swift and devastating. Within an hour, Israeli warplanes started pummelling alleged Hizbollah targets in Lebanon’s south, the Bekaa Valley and Beirut’s southern suburbs. Israel has now issued sweeping displacement orders for all three of these areas, which affect hundreds of thousands of people. On 3 March, Israel sent more soldiers into the country’s south with a view to establishing a permanent “security zone” there.

By way of background, in October 2023, Hizbollah opened a northern front with Israel in solidarity during the war in Gaza. But after a year of tit-for-tat exchanges that emptied out towns on both sides of the border, Israel upped the ante in September 2024, decimating the group’s leadership with bombs and exploding pagers. Now it is targeting the senior party figures who remain with precision strikes, on top of going after the group’s remaining military assets across the country. 

The new Israeli campaign has already uprooted hundreds of thousands of Lebanese Shiites, many of whom had fled their homes before within the past two years. These embattled people, on whom Hizbollah has long relied for political support, may be reaching breaking point. “You cannot overstate the last war’s psychological impact on the Shiite community”, a Lebanese Shiite academic told Crisis Group in late 2025. “There is not one Shiite family in Lebanon that has not lost something during this war”.

Since the ceasefire, Lebanon’s political leadership has been under pressure to bring Hizbollah to heel, and that is now increasing. In August 2025, with the U.S. and Israel demanding action, Beirut resolved to enforce a state monopoly on military-grade weaponry, as required under the ceasefire deal. The biggest challenge in making good on that commitment is disarming Hizbollah. To date, Beirut has tried to coax the group into cooperating with disarmament rather than confronting it, for fear of stirring up domestic strife. In particular, deploying the Lebanese army against Hizbollah could undermine the military’s integrity, if Shiite soldiers were to desert or even defect to Hizbollah’s side.

Hizbollah’s latest adventure seems to have put an end to this conciliatory approach, but the government has still been unable to corral the group. On 2 March, the Lebanese cabinet officially outlawed Hizbollah’s military activities and ordered the army to fast-track the disarmament plan by “all means necessary”. Significantly, the ministers aligned with Hizbollah’s Shiite ally, Speaker of Parliament Nabih Berri, voted in favour. Hizbollah now appears increasingly isolated, even among the country’s Shiites. In practice, however, the army’s leadership remains hesitant to force the disarmament issue with Hizbollah.

The government’s sterner resolve – even if it could be translated into firm action – may have arrived too late to spare Lebanon, as Israel takes cracking down on Hizbollah even further into its own hands. Since 2 March, waves of Israeli airstrikes have hit Hizbollah institutions across the country, wreaking destruction in adjacent residential neighbourhoods. As Israeli troops invaded southern Lebanon, the Lebanese army fell back from its positions there, for fear of entering a direct confrontation with a far more powerful adversary.

Despite Lebanon’s punishing losses – which have fallen disproportionately upon Shiites – Hizbollah refuses to back down. On 4 March, Hizbollah Secretary-General Naim Qassem struck a defiant tone, insisting that “(armed) resistance is a right that we will not negotiate with anyone”. Two days later, the group reportedly rejected a French initiative that proposed a ceasefire in return for Hizbollah agreeing to stand down, hand over its weapons and allow the Lebanese army to deploy in the group’s strongholds in Beirut’s southern suburbs. Meanwhile, it has continued launching attacks, so far with minimal effect. The same cannot be said for Israel’s escalating campaign and its impact on the people Hizbollah purports to represent.

Iraq has yet again become a battleground for outside powers, having sustained attacks by all three of Iran, the U.S. and Israel in the past few days. The Iraqi government – still in formation since elections in November 2025 – has little cushion to soften the blows. Neither do the U.S. and Iran seem willing to keep a lid on their proxy battles in Iraq, as they have done in the past. As part of their campaign to degrade Iran’s military capabilities, the U.S. and Israel have struck bases and weapons depots of Iran-backed Iraqi paramilitary groups. These groups have vowed retaliation against U.S. bases in Iraq and elsewhere. Meanwhile, Iran has attacked U.S. military and diplomatic installations, as well as Iranian Kurdish opposition groups based in Iraq’s Kurdistan region. Iraq is also facing economic losses, with oil exports blocked by Iranian fire in the Strait of Hormuz.

The weak caretaker government of Prime Minister Mohammed Shiaa al-Sudani is trying to avoid being drawn further into the melée by carefully balancing between the U.S. and Iran. It condemned the initial U.S. and Israeli strikes on Iran but has since called for de-escalation and a return to negotiations. As for the attacks in Iraq, government statements have denounced infringements upon Iraqi sovereignty without naming the parties behind them. 

Baghdad can do little to stop these attacks. Meanwhile, it is struggling to restrain the Iran-backed armed groups on its soil and preserve internal security. These groups arose as part of the Hashd, the popular militias that formed in 2014 to fight ISIS, and later established parties with representation in parliament. Some of them – which call themselves “resistance” groups – are close allies of Iran and part of its regional network of proxies. Only in the capital has the government succeeded in foiling their intentions. On two occasions, it stopped group members angered by Khamenei’s killing from staging protests in the Green Zone, the part of central Baghdad where many sensitive buildings are located, including the U.S. embassy.

Outside Baghdad, however, the Iran-backed groups have had greater freedom to enter the fray. The three main groups, Harakat al-Nujaba, Kataib Hizbollah and Kataib Sayed al-Shuhada, commenced retaliatory attacks on the U.S. base in Erbil after a strike on the Jurf al-Sakhr base south of Baghdad, likely by Israel, killed two Kataib Hizbollah members. The groups have since suffered further losses in U.S.-Israeli bombardment of bases in Anbar, Babylon, Diyala, Ninewa and Muthanna. These raids appear to have targeted rocket launch sites and have caused significant casualties.

In response, the groups have claimed responsibility for dozens of drone and rocket strikes in the Kurdistan region, targeting not only U.S. facilities there but also Iranian Kurdish opposition groups that Iran fears are plotting an uprising. Since 2 March, they have also launched attacks on neighbouring Gulf countries, including Saudi Arabia and Kuwait. On 4 March, Kuwait summoned the Iraqi ambassador to complain about rocket fire from across the border. Early on 6 March, rockets reportedly hit oil installations in Basra, where U.S. companies have assets, which would mean the armed groups have climbed another rung up the escalation ladder.

The Kurdistan region has so far borne the brunt of conflict. It has been the intended target of more than 70 projectiles launched from Iran or by its allied groups in Iraq, most of which U.S. air defences have intercepted. The Kurdistan regional government is in a political bind after the U.S. reportedly requested the two major Iraqi Kurdish parties to facilitate an offensive in Iran by Iranian Kurdish opposition groups based in Iraq. Leaders of both the Kurdistan Democratic Party and the Patriotic Union of Kurdistan have stated their desire to stay out of the conflict, fearing retaliation from Iran. They are unlikely, however, to stop the Iranian Kurdish groups should the latter decide to cross into Iran.

Iraq’s economy, meanwhile, may take a heavy hit. On 3 March, the government announced a partial shutdown of oil production in Basra, taking half of some 3 million barrels per day of oil off the global market, which amount to 90 per cent of Iraq’s revenues. Export of the Kurdistan region’s 200,000 barrels per day has already stopped due to drone and missile attacks. 

Though a close ally of Iran and an important element of its “axis of resistance”, Yemen’s Houthis have not rushed to Tehran’s aid during the current war. This posture may reflect Tehran’s preference: it could be that Iran wishes to hold the Houthis in reserve, planning to use their capabilities later as part of a gradual escalation should the U.S.-Israeli campaign intensify. During its June 2025 war with Israel, Iran asked the Houthis to stay out, despite the group’s readiness to get involved. But the Houthis themselves may also be making a calculated choice.

Two years of costly confrontation with Israel and the U.S. during the Gaza war have made the Houthis cautious. They know that joining the battle this time round would provoke heavy retaliation, as it would breach the agreement they reached with the U.S. concerning activities in the Red Sea announced in May 2025. They also hope that Iran will be able to carry on the fight long enough to wear the U.S. down. How long that might take is anyone’s guess, but the Houthis also believe that Gulf Arab states fear a long conflict and, given their close ties to Washington, will eventually press the U.S. to end the war. 

This strategy appears to be infused with more than a little wishful thinking, however, and not just because it makes assumptions that may be unwarranted about the Gulf states’ ability to dissuade President Trump from continuing the war. It also fails to contend with the strategic implications of a substantially weakened Iran. Tehran not only provides material support to the Houthis but also political backing and deterrence that have enhanced their regional influence. If Iran loses the ability to supply the weaponry that the Houthis used to menace shipping during the Gaza war, their geopolitical leverage will plummet.

In any event, the decision about whether to enter the war does not rest with the Houthis alone. As the conflict widens, they could find themselves a target and be drawn in. Or the Islamic Republic, feeling the need to summon all the resources available to it, could implore the Houthis to contribute their firepower. In that event, the Houthis would need to step in, as the Islamic Republic’s demise could spell their own – or at least leave them severely diminished.

The Houthis seem to recognise that things could head south quickly. Their rhetoric has morphed from expressing solidarity with Iran to signalling that the war is a battle involving the entire “axis of resistance”. Sources in Sanaa say the Houthis are stepping up drills for their missile and drone units, as well as their naval forces along Yemen’s western coastline.

If the Houthis enter the war, they would likely start at sea. The Red Sea remains their primary forum for applying pressure, with the possibility of resuming attacks on vessels linked to Israel or the U.S. A second layer of action could involve extending operations into the Bab al-Mandab and Gulf of Aden, which would further affect global shipping, especially of oil, at a time when Iran is strangling traffic through the Strait of Hormuz. The Houthis could also train their missiles and drones on Israel or U.S. bases in the Gulf – or the countries hosting them. As during the Gaza war, they might escalate incrementally in response to changing circumstances.

That said, the Houthis will need to keep an eye on the home front. While the Yemeni public granted a measure of support to their previous attacks on Israel in solidarity with the Palestinians in Gaza, economic conditions in areas they control are not getting any better. Negotiations with Saudi Arabia and the internationally recognised Yemeni government over a ceasefire and a political way out of Yemen’s civil strife remain stalled. For all these reasons, the Houthis may not wish to fight another war right now, but should they be pulled in through one of the scenarios described above, they will surely put military considerations above all others – despite the peril that entering the war alongside an embattled Iran could bring both domestically and geopolitically.

Ankara has vocally opposed the U.S.-Israeli campaign against Iran, warning of regional conflagration and spillover across borders, including into Türkiye. In a speech on 28 February, President Recep Tayyip Erdoğan criticised the U.S. and Israel for violating Iran’s sovereignty, warning that the conflict they had initiated could suck the Middle East into a “circle of fire”. Ankara fears getting dragged into the conflict. It worries that a weakening of Iran’s central authority could trigger refugee inflows, a flare-up of Iranian Kurdish separatism and other threats to Turkish security. Hostilities could also harm trade and tourism, while driving up the price of the country’s oil and gas imports. As if to underscore Ankara’s apprehension, on 4 March, NATO air defences shot down a ballistic missile fired from Iranian soil toward Turkish airspace. (Iran has denied launching it.) According to some reports, the missile was headed toward İncirlik air base in southern Türkiye, which hosts a contingent of U.S. troops. In a telephone call following the incident, Turkish Foreign Minister Hakan Fidan, speaking with his Iranian counterpart Abbas Araghchi, asked Tehran to avoid any step that could widen the war.

Some of Ankara’s concerns stem from the humanitarian burden it may have to carry as the war intensifies. Türkiye has long been a key destination and transit country for migrants crossing from Iran, predominantly Afghan refugees who had been living there. In recent years, in anticipation of a new migrant wave, Ankara has beefed up border security and constructed a concrete wall along a stretch of its 534km frontier with Iran, while also speeding up deportations ofpeople already in the country. Today, some reports suggest, small numbers of refugees have already begun to gather on the Iranian side of the border. More are expected if the war drags on. 

Looking down the road, Turkish officials worry that the war might fragment the Iranian state, with ill effects upon regional security. They are particularly disquieted by the prospect that Iranian Kurdish armed groups, with U.S. and Israeli backing, might mobilise in the security vacuum that could result. These groups include the Kurdistan Free Life Party (PJAK), the Iranian arm of the Kurdistan Workers’ Party (PKK), which Türkiye, the EU and the U.S. designate as a terrorist group, and which has long been Ankara’s arch-enemy. A peace process between Ankara and the PKK is under way, but PJAK has shunned it. Some in Ankara fear that Israel could encourage PJAK to take up the mantle of Kurdish separatism that the PKK has vowed to lay down. Alternatively, PJAK, which has said it will try to turn today’s crisis into an opportunity, could look for ways to strain the peace process in Türkiye. These anxieties are increasing friction with Israel at a time when Turkish-Israeli relations are at a low point, owing to the Gaza war and a widening rivalry stretching from Syria to the Horn of Africa.

Türkiye also fears economic repercussions. Iran is its third largest supplier of natural gas behind Russia and Azerbaijan. Iran is also becoming an important transit route for Turkish gas imports from Central Asia. A rise in prices would undercut Ankara’s efforts to battle inflation, which is hovering around 30 per cent. A prolonged regional escalation could also hurt trade, expose Ankara to oil price volatility, chase tourists away and jeopardise Ankara’s regional integration plans, including through the Iraqi Development Road project.

The above imperatives have shaped Ankara’s response to the new Middle East War, as has a desire to maintain good relations with Washington. Türkiye has made assiduous efforts to encourage its NATO ally, the U.S.. and its neighbour, Iran, to find a negotiated off-ramp. It is among the few countries that might be an effective peace broker (or, should there be an opening, be helpful in efforts to reach a ceasefire), owing to Erdoğan’s rapport with President Trump and Turkish officials’ access to Iranian decision-makers, including within the Revolutionary Guards. Türkiye also has credibility with Gulf Arab and other influential states. In early February, with the talks between the U.S. and Iran getting started, Ankara tried to create momentum for an expanded format for finding a diplomatic solution that would involve other regional powers. Tehran appeared to be on board at first, but later backed out in favour of the nuclear-focused track that hit a dead end. With so many countries already in the war’s “circle of fire”, this larger negotiating framework may yet become useful. 

In the run-up to the U.S.-Israeli offensive in Iran, Cairo tried to help build bridges between Tehran and Washington, capitalising on its high-level contacts to keep channels open between the sides, while coordinating with fellow Arab states in search of a diplomatic solution. Its initiative was propelled by concerns that another round of war could wreak havoc in the Middle East, threaten Egypt’s national security and – with trade disrupted and energy prices skyrocketing – cut short its halting economic recovery.

When the war got under way, President Abdelfattah al-Sisi and Foreign Minister Badr Abdelatty launched a vigorous diplomatic drive to find a negotiated way out, taking care not to explicitly wag their fingers at the U.S. Cairo would like to strike a balance between protecting its ties with Washington while warily reconciling itself with Tehran, with which it lacks full diplomatic relations. But after Iran’s attacks on its Arab neighbours, Egyptian officials issued an official statement denouncing the strikes as intolerable violations of Gulf Arab countries’ sovereignty and reaffirming Egypt’s solidarity with its Arab partners. 

While it has stayed clear of the hostilities so far, Cairo is concerned that the Egyptian economy remains vulnerable to the conflict’s fallout. Within the war’s first 24 hours, Israel suspended gas exports to Egypt, citing security concerns around its Leviathan field in the Mediterranean Sea. The interruption left Egypt with a sudden, critical supply gap, especially as it also gets much of its gas from Qatar, which halted production after Iranian attacks. A prolonged stoppage of supply from these two sources could cause severe power shortages, forcing the government to buy more expensive fuel from elsewhere. In addition, fears of renewed Houthi strikes on shipping led several companies to pause Red Sea traffic, with knock-on effects on the Suez Canal, from which Cairo derives transit duties – a main source of its hard currency. The tourism sector – another generator of dollars and a major employer – is also liable to suffer.

These disruptions risk derailing Egypt’s precarious economic recovery. Since 2022, the country has faced one of the harshest economic crises in its history. Despite Sisi’s reluctance to make politically sensitive but much-needed reforms, such as reducing the military’s overbearing economic footprint that undermines private-sector activity, the economy had started to rebound, thanks mainly to generous real estate investments by Qatar and the UAE, in addition to financial support from the EU and International Monetary Fund. Since 28 February, however, the Egyptian pound has sharply declined vis-à-vis the U.S. dollar, as foreign investors withdrew an estimated $1.4 billion from government debt instruments, fearing that regional instability, if not calmed, could undermine Egypt’s economy and its solvency. As the war continues, Egypt is likely to double down on efforts to find a diplomatic end to it, working closely with its Arab partners to back any initiative that might emerge.