Sitting ducks: Why the US security umbrella no longer protects the Gulf?

In Kuwait alone—less than 150 kilometres across the Gulf from Iran—the United States maintains a major military hub of approximately 13,500 personnel spread across installations such as Camp Arifjan and Ali Al Salem Air Base. To its south, Saudi Arabia hosts roughly 2,700 U.S. troops, centered at Prince Sultan Air Base in Al Kharj. Elsewhere in the Gulf, every state hosts either a US military presence or provides access and defence cooperation under bilateral agreements: Qatar houses more than 10,000 personnel at CENTCOM’s sprawling forward headquarters at Al Udeid; Bahrain hosts around 9,000 personnel at the headquarters of the US Fifth Fleet; the UAE accommodates approximately 3,500 personnel at Al Dhafra while providing deep-water naval access at Jebel Ali; and Oman offers strategic port and airfield access under bilateral agreements, despite having no large permanent US troop presence.

Beyond the Gulf monarchies, Washington maintains approximately 2,500 troops in Iraq and around 900 in northeastern Syria under Operation Inherent Resolve. To Iran’s northwest, the US operates from Incirlik Air Base in Türkiye— a NATO logistics and intelligence hub too. Until its withdrawal from Afghanistan in 2021, American forces also maintained a major military presence along Iran’s eastern frontier, supported for two decades by extensive supply routes and intelligence cooperation through Pakistan. Although the US lies nearly 10,000 kilometres from Iran, it has constructed an unparalleled regional military architecture of permanent bases, rotational deployments, naval facilities, pre-positioned equipment, access agreements, and security partnerships that stretches from the Eastern Mediterranean across the Gulf to the western Indian Ocean. Combined with the military capabilities of close allies—including Britain, France, and Türkiye—this network almost literally surrounding Iran from all sides. The common thread underpinning this posture has long been the protection of regional partners, the safeguarding of global energy routes, and the defence of US strategic interests.

Yet, this foundational premise has collapsed under the weight of the US-Israeli war on Iran, which has fundamentally transformed the entire regional security landscape. This “war of choice” has exposed how a security arrangement once marketed as an ironclad insurance policy has devolved into a primary strategic liability.

Rather than serving as an effective deterrent, large and static American military installations now act as strategic liability—drawing Iranian retaliatory strikes while denying host states true autonomy or the promised protective shield.

The Gulf states have discovered, at a heavy price, that they are trapped in an impossible paradox: their sovereign territory serves as a staging ground for military operations they were never consulted about—at least that is what they say publically –instantly transforming their critical infrastructure, oil facilities, and urban centers into high-priority targets. Compounding this vulnerability is the stark geopolitical reality that while Washington may eventually pivot away or withdraw—much as it did from Afghanistan—Iran is a permanent neighbour that is going nowhere.

Beyond the immediate threat of missile strikes, the presence of these US installations directly undermines the core national strategies of the Gulf monarchies. Mega-development projects and economic diversification plans—from Saudi Arabia’s Vision 2030 to Dubai’s global trade hubs—rely entirely on an image of absolute regional stability, investor confidence, and open maritime transit. By hosting forward US bases, host nations inadvertently tie their economic futures to Washington’s military posture, creating an environment of perpetual crisis. Furthermore, defending these expansive American footprints forces host militaries to consume their own finite air-defense interceptors and defense budgets to guard US assets rather than securing their own national borders.

At the same time, while almost all Gulf States have, at least publicly, refrained from taking direct offensive action against Iran to avoid total escalation, they recognise that they are already viewed as passive participants in the wider conflict.

Maintaining this precarious balancing act is becoming increasingly difficult against rising domestic anti-war sentiment, as public anger over regional devastation steadily erodes the host governments’ domestic credibility.

For Washington, this massive network of forward-deployed bases has produced a profound strategic paradox. What was designed to project uninhibited American power now ties US freedom of action to the political consent of cautious host nations. When host governments impose strict sovereignty restrictions—refusing permission for US forces to launch offensive sorties or intelligence missions against regional adversaries from their soil—the Pentagon finds its multi-billion-dollar installations functionally sidelined during critical military surges. Instead of providing seamless operational flexibility, these fixed, highly vulnerable outposts transform into costly “imperial entrapment” liabilities: requiring thousands of US troops, high-end missile defense batteries, and constant naval escort deployments simply to protect the bases themselves, rather than executing broader strategic objectives or enabling Washington’s long-sought pivot to the Indo-Pacific. With the conflict between the US and Iran reigniting, Trump is demanding that the Gulf states pay once again to protect the Strait of Hormuz—a vital transit route that never closed until the war was started by Trump, not Iran.

This strategic calculus becomes infinitely more complex when factoring in Israel’s role in the regional security outlook. In recent years, certain Gulf states—most notably the UAE—operated under the premise that normalization and closer security alignment with Israel via the Abraham Accords would yield a net security dividend. Yet, this belief was never shared across the Gulf; nations like Kuwait, Oman, and Saudi Arabia maintained a far more cautious, sceptical stance toward Tel Aviv. The outbreak of the US-Israeli war on Tehran on February 28 utterly shattered any illusion that an Israeli-linked security architecture could bring regional stability. Instead, it exposed deep internal fault lines among the entire region. Reaching a collective, long-term security understanding with Iran was already a formidable challenge; doing so now, in the wake of a devastating conflict that forced Gulf States into the crossfire, is immensely more complicated. Moving forward, no regional framework can hold if it relies on a anti-Tehran pact anchored in Washington and Tel Aviv while ignoring the permanent reality of Iranian geographic power.

Ultimately, the fallout from the US-Israeli war on Iran exposes a fundamental reality that Washington and its regional allies can no longer ignore: the entire Middle Eastern security architecture must be fundamentally re-evaluated.

The core dilemma facing the region is that no collective security arrangement can ever be viable or effective if it seeks to exclude Iran—an indispensable, geographically permanent power armed with increasingly sophisticated offensive, defensive, and asymmetric capabilities.

Moving forward, any stable regional order must not only account for Tehran’s military leverage, but also accommodate its non-negotiable strategic demands. This includes addressing governance and transit rights over the vital Strait of Hormuz—through which one-fifth of global oil flows—and reaching a durable, pragmatic framework on its nuclear program. Regardless of the final outcome of ongoing US-Iran negotiations, the lesson for the Gulf is clear: true security cannot be built on an external garrison model that marginalizes the region’s principal indigenous power.

The views expressed in this article belong to the author and do not necessarily reflect the editorial policy of Middle East Monitor.