Middle East

Iran's missile programme and drone arsenal constitute one of the Middle East's principal security determinants. Before the outbreak of military hostilities in February 2026, Iran possessed the region's largest stockpile of ballistic missiles. Estimates varied, placing its inventory at between 2,500 and 6,000 long-range missiles capable of striking deep inside Israel at speeds approaching 17,000 kilometres per hour. This coincided with Tehran consolidating its position as a leading developer of drones, particularly the various Shahed models, the Karrar series, and the latest Kaman variant unveiled in January 2026.   The strategic significance of these capabilities became evident during the war, when they became a top priority for U.S. and Israeli strikes. Production facilities, storage sites, and launch platforms were targeted in an effort to degrade Iran's deterrent capabilities and neutralise the threat they posed to Israel. This military escalation was consistent with the pre-war U.S. position, which had signalled its intention to prevent Tehran from acquiring ballistic missiles and stressed the need to incorporate this issue into the nuclear negotiations. In practice, this was reflected in the simultaneous targeting of the infrastructure underpinning both the missile and nuclear programmes.   However, the launch of the negotiation process introduced a new strategic dimension to the issue through the Islamabad Memorandum. Contrary to expectations that Iran's military capabilities would be incorporated into the initial agreement, both the missile and drone programmes were excluded from the preliminary understanding.   The Trump administration subsequently announced a departure from its previous position, stating that it was not seeking to prevent Tehran from rebuilding its missile capabilities, citing Iran's sovereign right to self-defence. This shift reflects a strategic trade-off based on temporarily overlooking the missile programme in exchange for containing the nuclear programme and restricting the funding of armed groups across the region.   This exclusion is not merely a procedural feature of the negotiations. Rather, it raises fundamental questions about the trajectory of the sixty-day transitional period and the strategy each party is likely to pursue thereafter. This situation requires an assessment that goes beyond measuring battlefield losses to understand how these capabilities have evolved from mere weapons systems into a fundamental pillar of the regional balance of power, imposing themselves on regional strategic calculations.   This issue was written on July 2, 2026

Global food security has rarely faced two simultaneous structural shocks of this magnitude. The February 2026 closure of the Strait of Hormuz, triggered by the escalating US-Israel-Iran conflict, severed the world's most critical maritime corridor for energy, fertilizer, and food trade in a single blow. Thousands of miles away, El Niño, a periodic warming of the equatorial Pacific Ocean that triggers droughts, weakens monsoons, and disrupts growing conditions across the globe, is intensifying at a pace forecasters warn could make it one of the most severe events since records began.   Each shock alone would constitute a serious test for global food systems. Together, they converge on a region structurally designed to withstand neither. In 2026, both shocks are unfolding simultaneously, stacked on top of fertilizer markets already in crisis — a compounding that no previous El Niño episode has faced. The question is no longer whether they will converge, but how severe the consequences will be for a region structurally unprepared for either.

For more than three decades, Israel maintained a policy of strategic ambiguity towards the Armenian Genocide, deliberately withholding formal recognition despite mounting domestic calls—from parliamentarians and academics alike—for a definitive official position. This reluctance was neither accidental nor driven by historical uncertainty. Rather, it reflected a carefully calibrated strategy aimed at safeguarding a complex web of vital national interests. Official silence helped preserve Israel's close strategic partnerships with both Turkey and Azerbaijan, secure the uninterrupted flow of energy supplies and critical trade routes, and protect its sensitive intelligence footprint along Iran's northern frontier.   That strategic equilibrium was abruptly overturned in June 2026, when the Israeli government formally recognised the Armenian Genocide. The decision triggered an unprecedented backlash from Azerbaijan, which swiftly denounced it as a distortion of historical facts lacking any legal or scholarly foundation, while demanding that Israel immediately reverse its position. At that moment, the contours of a profound strategic contradiction came sharply into focus. Although Israel presented the move as a moral and historical obligation, the broader geopolitical context pointed instead to predominantly political and retaliatory calculations. In a single decision, Tel Aviv opened itself to direct confrontation with Turkey and a quieter, yet strategically significant, rift with Azerbaijan, while simultaneously creating an opportunity for Iran to exploit the emerging fractures and weaken Israel's extensive strategic influence along its northern frontier.

The Strait of Hormuz is no longer merely a disputed maritime passage, nor simply a recurring flashpoint between Iran and the United States. It has instead evolved into a central arena for testing the meaning of sovereignty in the region. While Washington continues to regard the strait as an international waterway governed by the principle of freedom of navigation, Iran’s Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps treats it as a sovereign zone under its direct administration, subject to military rules imposed through effective ground control. Accordingly, the core of the crisis no longer centres on the question, "Is the strait open or closed?" Rather, the more consequential question has become: what is the future of the strait in light of the ongoing negotiations?   Recent developments, particularly following the Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps’s threat to close the Strait of Hormuz in response to what it described as violations of the terms of the memorandum of understanding, especially about the Lebanese file just days after the memorandum was signed, reveal that the issue has not been resolved but has instead grown more complex. The memorandum treated the strait as a technical issue that could be managed through arrangements governing passage and transit to prevent friction. The Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps, by contrast, approached it as a symbol of sovereignty, power, and the right to set the rules. This divergence rendered the understanding itself incapable of resolving the underlying dispute, because the disagreement between the two sides lies not in procedural details, but in who holds the authority to determine those procedures in the first place.   Although the United States and Iran agreed to reopen the Strait of Hormuz immediately after signing the preliminary agreement, this does not necessarily mean that maritime traffic will return to pre-war levels. Implementing this provision presents complex challenges related to the mechanism for reactivating the shipping corridor, the arrangements required to resume vessel traffic, and the restrictions that may persist during the sixty days allocated to negotiate the final agreement. These challenges are further compounded by the dispute over which party will assume responsibility for regulating and managing maritime traffic through the strait. Taken together, these obstacles suggest that reopening the strait may prove one of the most complex aspects of the agreement, particularly given the ongoing divergence between the American and Iranian visions for the future control of this strategic waterway.   The crisis surrounding the Strait of Hormuz, therefore, cannot be understood merely as a dispute over borders or the passage of ships; it is fundamentally a crisis of authority: the authority to set the rules, to impose exceptions, and to exercise the final say in determining whether this waterway remains open, closed, or conditionally accessible. For this reason, the question of the strait should no longer be viewed as a secondary file within the broader Iran–United States conflict. Rather, it should be recognised as one of the most consequential issues shaping and redefining the very concept of sovereignty, both within Iran itself and in the evolving structure of relations between regional and international powers.

The Al Habtoor Research Centre (AHRC) presents a groundbreaking, equation-based assessment analysing the direct and indirect social and economic resource costs of the 110-day conflict that began on February 28, 2026. Utilising an advanced conflict economics framework—including the Stiglitz-Bilmes convention and counterfactual synthetic controls—this research delivers an unprecedented, exclusive analysis of the financial burdens borne by the belligerents and the wider global economy. The headline finding is one of profound asymmetry, proving that recovery capacity, rather than the size of the initial kinetic blow, dictates the medium-term cost of modern warfare. The largest financial burden fell on the global economy, specifically non-belligerent, bystander oil-importing nations, totalling an estimated $1.41 trillion by 2030. Triggered by the 110-day closure of the Strait of Hormuz, this true burden lies in unproduced global output rather than the temporary oil-price spike, which ultimately nets to zero globally. Among the combatants, Iran absorbed an existential, structural blow equivalent to roughly 81% of its pre-war output, costing $305 billion by 2030, or $720 billion on a purchasing-power parity (PPP) basis. Locked out of international capital markets, its output gap fails to close by the end of the decade, triggering a step down to a permanently lower economic path. In contrast, the United States faces a heavily back-loaded bill ranging from $200 billion to $1.1 trillion by 2030. While structurally insulated from the immediate oil shock due to its net energy exporter status, this massive range in projections depends on whether standard cash-budgeting or full multi-decade liabilities—such as veteran care, war-debt interest, and budget ratchets—are present-valued. Meanwhile, Israel sustained a sharp but recoverable macroeconomic shock of $135 billion by 2030, equal to roughly a quarter of a single year's GDP. Advanced air defense mitigated physical destruction, concentrating the cost instead on reserve mobilisation, interception economics, and a transient output gap. Ultimately, this exclusive analysis details how the poorest bystander nations subsidised the conflict's macro cost, marking the 2026 war as one of the most economically disruptive events of the century.

The Tel Aviv Stock Exchange (TASE) offers one of the most instructive case studies in contemporary political economy. In under three years, it transformed from a compressed, domestically isolated venue into a high-beta financial instrument that prices Middle Eastern geopolitical risk in real time. The period from October 2023 to June 2026 encompassed the gravest security shock in Israel's modern history; yet its benchmark indices delivered record returns, making it the world's fastest-rising equity market in 2024 and 2025, before pivoting abruptly into a sharp correction by mid-2026. This paradoxical trajectory poses a fundamental question: how does capital — foreign and domestic alike — respond when gun barrels intersect with trading screens, and why did the signals emanating from the sovereign bond market diverge so starkly from those of the equity market at the very same moment? This analysis traces the precise correlation between military and diplomatic events on the one hand, and capital flows and the sovereign risk premium on the other, exposing a new financial logic that now governs the pricing of existential risk.   Accordingly, this analysis sets out to disentangle three interlocking layers: first, the mechanics of the initial shock and the manner in which the state intervened to contain capital flight; second, the paradox of the war economy, in which sovereign downgrades coincided with an unprecedented equity rally; and third, the 2026 reversal that repriced geopolitical risk in the wake of diplomatic realignment — culminating in a forward-looking assessment of the market's probable trajectories through 2028.

The Middle East has undergone profound shifts in its security and geopolitical landscape following the major events that began on 7 October 2023 and continued to unfold through 2026. At the heart of these shifts lies a fundamental transformation in Israeli military doctrine. For many years, Israel relied on rapid pre-emptive strikes and advanced technologies to sustain remote defence without requiring permanent control over new territory. However, the unprecedented breaches of its borders have fundamentally altered this strategy. Israel has now moved towards direct physical control over parts of Arab territory and has begun constructing a broad, contiguous belt of buffer zones extending from the Gaza Strip in the south and southern Lebanon in the north to the Syrian Golan Heights.   Historically, buffer zones were understood as demilitarised and relatively calm spaces designed to separate conflicting parties and prevent direct friction. Israel, however, has fundamentally redefined this concept, transforming such zones into instruments of absolute security control. Through this approach, it seeks to create fortified military spaces that provide strategic depth, eliminate cross-border threats and tunnels, and push the battlefield entirely away from its cities and population centres.   Despite the clarity of these objectives, this approach places Israeli military planners in a genuine dilemma. The permanent deployment of large infantry and armoured forces within hostile and volatile areas threatens to turn these belts—intended to serve as secure zones—into arenas of sustained and costly military attrition. Against this backdrop, this analysis raises a central and fundamental question: do these border strips constitute a genuine security buffer capable of ensuring Israel’s long-term survival and security, or have they already become a trap that steadily drains its capabilities day after day?

The Strait of Hormuz is, in the modern imagination, an energy chokepoint through which roughly a fifth of global petroleum and a comparable share of liquefied natural gas transit. Yet this narrow waterway carries a far older and more contested significance, one bearing directly on questions of identity, sovereignty, and historical legitimacy in the Arabian Gulf.1 This study addresses three questions and resolves each on the basis of the documentary and archaeological record.   First, it traces the origin of the name “Hormuz”, surveying the principal etymological theories, subjecting each to critical scrutiny, and arriving at a reasoned synthesis. Second, it reconstructs the history of the Arab population on both shores of the Strait, marshalling demographic and documentary evidence to show that the enduring human substrate of the region was Arab throughout recorded history, while Persian authority was characteristically a governing superstructure rather than a settled population. Third, it situates the Battle of Chains and the defeat of the Sasanian commander Hormuz in its correct chronological place within that continuum and corrects the popular but mistaken belief that the Strait was named after him.   The central finding is that the Strait of Hormuz, far from being a frontier dividing an Arab world from a Persian one, functioned for five millennia as a connective maritime highway whose permanent population was overwhelmingly Arab in character, even during the long intervals in which a Persian imperial umbrella claimed nominal sovereignty over its northern littoral.

By mid-2026, the US agricultural sector stands at a critical juncture where macroeconomic shocks intersect with geopolitical repercussions and sharp shifts in domestic trade policy. This has been reflected acutely in the traditional political alliances of rural America—which have historically constituted a formidable electoral stronghold for the Republican Party and, in particular, for President Donald Trump—as they undergo deep structural fractures that continue to widen, driven by the direct economic effects of stringent protectionist trade policies, disruptions to the regulatory framework governing biofuels, and regional conflicts that have combined to erode profit margins and undermine farmers’ confidence in the current system.   To understand the roots of this crisis, it is necessary to examine the nature of the implicit economic contract between the current Republican administration and its rural base. Historically, the government’s strategy rested on a two-dimensional approach: engineering stringent industrial tariffs to protect the domestic manufacturing base, while simultaneously attempting to insulate the agricultural sector from the adverse repercussions of these policies through the injection of exceptional federal support packages. However, the dynamics of 2025 and 2026 have undermined the wager on the sustainability of this equation. The economic strain generated by this dual approach translated into tangible political mobilisation, the effects of which were clearly reflected in opinion polls and primary-election indicators that came as a shock to the Republican camp.   Building on the foregoing, and with the crisis shifting from the economic sphere to the arena of electoral contestation, this analysis seeks to dissect the deep economic drivers that have produced the current state of agricultural frustration, evaluate the effectiveness of government measures in the areas of trade and energy, and assess the extent of the shift in the political calculations of rural voters. Drawing on a systematic reading of quantitative indicators and an examination of the results of the Iowa primary elections, this analysis attempts to anticipate the trajectory of this discontent: does it merely represent a temporary wave of backlash-driven anger, or is it laying the foundations for a broader political realignment capable of reshaping the balance of power in Washington ahead of the midterm elections?

For decades, the systems that governments, banks, universities, and public institutions built to verify who someone is rested on a single foundational assumption that personal information, documents, and physical characteristics were difficult to convincingly fake. A Social Security number combined with a date of birth and a driver's license was, for most practical purposes, enough to establish identity.   That assumption has now been broken. The US recorded its highest number of data breaches in 2025 since tracking began, identity theft reports to the Federal Trade Commission rose nearly 20% year over year, and global fraud losses now exceed $534 billion annually. Generative AI, the same technology powering productivity tools and creative applications across the economy, has become a force multiplier for those seeking to deceive digital systems at scale. The speed, sophistication, and accessibility of these tools mean that the problem is no longer confined to the margins of financial crime. It has moved to the centre of a broader question about whether the digital infrastructure modern states depend on to function is as reliable as they have assumed.

Divisions among Iranian officials became increasingly evident in late April 2026. The hardline faction opposes making any concessions in the ongoing negotiations with the United States and insists that the nuclear programme be excluded entirely from the negotiating agenda. Another, even harder-line faction rejects entering negotiations altogether. By contrast, the moderate faction advocates engagement in nuclear negotiations while remaining committed to the principles of the Islamic Revolution. This camp recognises that negotiations could contribute to the partial lifting of sanctions and help alleviate the economic hardships facing citizens amid the country's continuing economic decline. It also views an end to the war as a strategic necessity, particularly given the strain placed on Iran's military capabilities and the loss of senior leadership figures.   These divisions have also become increasingly visible within the Iranian regime’s diplomatic apparatus. Contradictory statements were issued by members of the same Iranian delegation during a visit to Islamabad on 23–24 April 2026. These disagreements raise direct questions about the future trajectory of both the negotiations and the war, while highlighting the potential scenarios that could emerge from the growing divisions within the Iranian regime itself.

War is often fought on numerous battlefronts with state of warfare constantly evolving. In the case of the US-Israel-Iran War, drone and economic warfare are primarily tools of battle between the warring sides with the possibility extension to the seas following President Donald Trump’s proclamation of a naval blockade on the Strait of Hormuz. Although the primary theater of war in this conflict has been the skies with an impending theater about to open in the seas of the Gulf, there is another more unconventional theater that has been operating since the beginning of the war, the theater of social media. Since the beginning of the war both the US and Iran have used memes and social media platforms such as X and Instagram as propaganda tools to attack each other’s credibility and shift the war narrative in their favor by engaging wider audiences.   The purpose of this analysis is to explore the idea behind how social media and memes opened a new theater of war between the US and Iran since the start of hostilities in February 2026 and its consequences. This exploration is based on the idea the use of social media and memes transforms the individual from a spectator to active participant in the conflict, while also normalizing violence through humor. Moreover, by transforming social media into a theater of war, the belligerents transform the concept of war into an aesthetic, especially through the US military and White House’s use of social media and memes.