Mohamed AlYaquby

GCC must shield Vision 2030 from the US–Israel war on Iran By Turki Faisal Al Rasheed As US President Barack Obama left his country’s embassy in Dublin in his fully armored limousine, his convoy hit an unexpected snag. The vehicle’s underside scraped on a simple ramp and became stuck at the gate a multimillion dollar machine defeated by an ordinary piece of pavement. The image is hard to forget enormous investment, but poor design for real world conditions. Our region risks making the same mistake if we pour money into “exquisite” defenses that fail at the critical moment. The US Defense Innovation Unit (DIU), created in 2015 by then Defense Secretary Ash Carter, was meant to prevent exactly that kind of failure in the military domain. It was designed to break through Pentagon bureaucracy and connect the armed forces with fast moving technologies from Silicon Valley, shifting from slow, traditional contractors to agile private firms. In practice, this has meant experimenting with autonomous systems, microsatellites, and artificial intelligence, while fighting the inertia, over centralization, and rent seeking that often plague big defense programs. The core lesson is simple: if you do not reform how you buy and use technology, you end up with very expensive systems that are not fit for the next war. That next war is now unfolding over our heads. The ongoing US–Israel war on Iran has exposed a dangerous vulnerability in the US led missile defense architecture in the Middle East. Iran has executed a sequenced, systems level campaign that, in a matter of days, blinded and degraded core elements of the US missile defense network in our region. By destroying the Qatar based AN/FPS 132 early warning radar and at least three AN/TPY 2 X band radars linked to THAAD batteries in Saudi Arabia, the UAE, and Jordan, Tehran has turned what was designed as a layered, redundant sensor web into a patchwork with serious gaps. This tactical success has strategic consequences. It accelerates the depletion of high end interceptors, exposes critical bases and energy infrastructure, and destabilizes key partners such as Jordan. It also erodes US deterrence credibility in the Indo Pacific, because the same finite interceptor stockpile is supposed to help defend Taiwan and Japan. In other words, the Middle East is consuming systems that Washington also counts on for other theaters a risk Gulf policymakers must factor into any calculation about escalation. Iran’s approach follows a three step logic familiar from suppression of enemy air defenses, but applied to missile defense. First, “kill the eyes” by striking early warning radars. Second, “kill the aim” by targeting fire control radars that guide interceptors. Third, “destroy the batteries” by hitting the launchers themselves. Each step attacks a different dependency in an integrated system. Once enough eyes and aim points are removed, the remaining batteries operate in a fog, with compressed and uneven timelines for detection, classification, and engagement. There is no safe “rear area” if long range missiles and drones can reach radars in places like Jordan, which many once assumed were relatively secure. For years, the US doctrinal concept in the Gulf has been layered missile defense: early warning from the AN/FPS 132 in Qatar and space based sensors; upper tier defense by THAAD guided by AN/TPY 2 radars; lower tier coverage by Patriot PAC 3; and a maritime layer from Aegis equipped destroyers. On paper, this looked robust. In practice, Iran has shown how quickly a determined adversary can degrade it, especially when it can attack multiple layers at once. Worse, Tehran is exploiting a cost exchange crisis. Cheap drones and relatively low cost ballistic missiles are being mixed in large salvos, forcing defenders to fire interceptors that cost millions of dollars per shot at any track that might be lethal. The political and moral cost of a single “leaker” a missile that gets through and causes mass casualties pushes commanders to “engage everything.” Over time, that is a losing game, especially for states that rely heavily on imported interceptors and have limited local production capacity. For Saudi Arabia, this is not an abstract debate. Vision 2030 rests on three interlinked pillars: diversifying the economy, transforming the Kingdom into a global investment hub, and building an “ambitious nation” with secure, resilient infrastructure. At the same time, Saudi Arabia is pursuing an ambitious energy transition, aiming to source around half of its power from renewables by 2030 and to build more than 100 GW of new solar and wind capacity while maintaining its role in oil and gas. All of this depends on the basic condition: physical security for legacy oil facilities, new gas and petrochemical projects, and a rapidly expanding network of renewable plants, industrial zones, and transmission corridors. The 2019 Abqaiq–Khurais attacks were an early warning. Iran and its proxies temporarily knocked out roughly half of Saudi crude production and about 5 percent of global daily supply, despite existing air defenses. Today, the Kingdom’s new “air defense shield” a mix of Patriot, THAAD, and AN/TPY 2 radars to protect Riyadh, Eastern Province oil facilities, and key military sites is partly dependent on the same regional sensor and interceptor web that Iran is now degrading. As US high end interceptors are consumed to defend bases across the Gulf, there is growing pressure on the availability and prioritization of defensive assets for Saudi energy and power infrastructure, especially if the conflict widens. This creates a dangerous trap for the Gulf Cooperation Council (GCC). A dangerous scheme appears to be unfolding in which the US and Israel, driven by their confrontation with Iran, risk pulling the Gulf deeper into a direct clash with Tehran without fully accounting for our long term security and development priorities. External actors know that their war with Iran will, one way or another, eventually end. They also know that a prolonged Gulf–Iran confrontation would drain our resources, destabilize our societies, and open the door to deeper foreign intervention under the pretext of “assistance.” We have seen this movie before. During the Iran–Iraq war, “disaster capitalism” thrived on chaos, arms sales, and reconstruction contracts, while regional states paid the human and economic cost. The most dangerous outcome of escalation today is not necessarily regime change in Tehran, but the possible disintegration of the Iranian state into prolonged anarchy. That would unleash refugee flows, militia spillover, and sustained disruption in energy markets, directly threatening Saudi stability, Vision 2030, and the security of the entire Gulf. In this context, the GCC has no choice but to close ranks. The recent GCC positions on the Iran–Israel war has emphasized de escalation and diplomacy, reflecting a growing recognition that war on Iran’s territory would pose an existential risk to regional stability. Saudi Arabia’s clear declaration of support for Kuwait against potential Iraqi threats has shown what principled solidarity can look like; that spirit must extend to every GCC member and every emerging crisis. Unity is not a slogan. It is our first line of defense against being pressured, divided, and targeted one by one. What should a Saudi centered response look like? First, we need more autonomous sensor coverage and command and control networks that do not collapse if a handful of US owned radars are destroyed. Second, we must protect and, where possible, localize stocks of critical interceptors, while investing in layered defenses that combine high end systems with cheaper interceptors and passive protection (hardening, dispersal, deception). Third, we must deliberately shield key Vision 2030 assets oil, gas, and power infrastructure, as well as strategic industrial zones as priority targets for defense planning, not afterthoughts. At the same time, the GCC must resist being dragged into a direct US–Israel war on Iran. This does not mean accepting aggression or remaining silent in the face of violations of our sovereignty. It means insisting that any response serves our security, our economies, and our long term vision for regional stability, rather than the short term agendas of others. It means rejecting blackmail, hidden agendas, and opaque “coalitions” that treat Gulf states as logistics hubs and targets rather than partners. We stand at a fork in the road. One path leads to escalation, exhaustion, and dependence — a future where our defense budgets balloon while our development goals shrink, and where Vision 2030 becomes a casualty of someone else’s war. The other path demands courage, discipline, and regional unity: saying “no” to being used, “yes” to self reliant defense innovation, and “always” to protecting our people and our development first. In the end, the choice before the GCC is stark: either we become the ramp that wrecks someone else’s armored car, or we build the road that safely carries our own future forward.