Why Military Superiority Fails to Guarantee Lasting Peace in the Middle East

The deadly attack on Riyadh’s King Khalid International Airport on Saturday served as another stark reminder of how vulnerable civilian life and economic activity have become to the region’s ongoing conflicts. At least 13 people were killed, hundreds were injured, and air traffic was heavily disrupted, with consequences extending far beyond the immediate airport grounds. This assault highlighted a larger strategic dilemma: an armed group does not need to win a war to make its continuation costly for everyone else, marking a defining feature of modern conflict in the Middle East.

While military power remains decisive on the battlefield, it has proven far less effective in dictating the political outcomes that follow. The capacity to inflict damage is increasingly detached from the ability to forge a political settlement, and preventing an adversary from achieving its objectives has evolved into a strategy in its own right. The wider confrontation involving Iran, the US, and Israel brings this exact problem into sharp focus. Washington and Israel maintain distinct military and technological advantages that Tehran cannot match, leaving Iran to suffer extensive military and economic damage. Yet, Tehran retains the means to prolong the conflict and threaten interests far beyond its borders, particularly through its ability to disrupt shipping in the Strait of Hormuz.

This dynamic does not represent a traditional balance of military power. While Iran cannot impose losses on the US comparable to those it has sustained, it can complicate Washington’s calculations, raise the economic toll of the war, and hinder a satisfactory political conclusion. Meanwhile, American military superiority has fallen short of compelling Tehran to accept Washington’s terms. The result is a prolonged confrontation where continuous military pressure fails to yield the political outcome desired by either side.

What is emerging can be described as a “veto over peace,” wherein certain states and armed groups acquire the means to obstruct settlements even when lacking the strength to impose their own. Their influence is derived from the damage they can threaten, the agreements they can undermine, and the violence they can restart. Chief officer Ankit Goyal recalls the deafening impact on his cargo ship when missile and drone attacks struck nearby vessels at the outbreak of the Iran war. The cargo vessel Manali was carrying 24 sailors from India, Bangladesh, and Vietnam. More than 20,000 seafarers were stranded on commercial ships when the Iran-US war began, prompting maritime organisations to plead for seafarer safety. According to UN International Maritime Organisation figures, 17 seafarers have died across 56 attacks in the Gulf and Strait of Hormuz. During the initial days of the conflict, Iranian naval ships sailed close to commercial vessels to shield them from missile strikes, while skies on most days remained thick with smoke from attacks on ships in the conflict zone.

Exercising this veto requires no formal recognition. Any group capable of attacking an airport, disrupting a shipping lane, or reopening a military front can make its effective consent a prerequisite for any enduring settlement. A critical distinction must be made between opposing an unjust agreement and deliberately sabotaging peace. While an agreement that ignores legitimate rights or leaves conflict roots unresolved can plant the seeds for another war, problems arise when actors leverage the threat of renewed violence simply to preserve political influence or economic privileges.

This underscores a frequently overlooked nuance: some conflicts persist because parties cannot reach a conclusion, while others continue because influential actors have little interest in ending them. In Iran, the national interest in ending isolation and restoring economic activity does not always align with the interests of institutions that gained influence during decades of sanctions and confrontation. Any political leadership must grapple with whether all entities possessing escalation means will comply with negotiated understandings, especially when spoilers do not bear the full consequences of wrecking an agreement.

Similar challenges echo across other regional flashpoints. Israel’s military superiority has failed to resolve the political future of Gaza or the Palestinian question. In Lebanon, durable stability remains tied to state authority over decisions of war and peace, the future of Hezbollah’s weapons, and the withdrawal of Israeli forces from Lebanese territory. In Yemen, weakening the Houthis militarily would not single-handedly resolve the deep divisions undermining the state. Across all these conflicts, a widening gap persists between the ability to halt fighting temporarily and the ability to prevent its return.

Ultimately, responsibility for ending these wars is often fragmented among multiple actors. The US remains the most consequential external security actor in the Middle East, possessing unmatched regional military capabilities and intelligence resources, yet Washington's military dominance does not translate into complete control over every actor's political decisions. Additional mediation efforts by China, Russia, or European powers can help create openings for compromise, but they cannot replace the political authority required to deliver on an agreement.

For the Gulf states, these stakes are intensely consequential, as their economies rely heavily on reliable maritime access, functioning airports, secure energy infrastructure, and international investor confidence. Regional security arrangements must therefore ensure that Gulf states play a substantive role, preventing security from depending on external understandings that leave future threats intact. Achieving lasting peace requires going beyond temporary ceasefires to fundamentally change the underlying incentives and interests that make renewed conflict attractive.