The US-GCC security partnership is facing its deepest crisis of confidence in decades. Across the Gulf, a growing belief has taken hold that Washington is no longer a dependable guarantor of security and stability. That rupture widened dramatically after Iran launched waves of ballistic and cruise missile attacks on Emirati targets, including a Fujairah oil facility, on May 4 and 5. Rather than retaliating, the United States suspended Project Freedom, a military operation designed to counter Iran's chokehold over the Strait of Hormuz, and pivoted towards negotiations with Tehran.
For many Gulf leaders, the decision felt like abandonment. Privately, several leaders accused Washington of sacrificing Gulf security to protect Israel and avoid risks to American forces. But the anger was not simply about one military decision. It reflected something much deeper: an accumulated frustration with the fundamental nature of the US-Gulf relationship itself.
The informal US-Gulf-Israel security architecture functioned somewhat smoothly for nearly four decades, with the GCC states hosting major American bases and working closely with Washington. At the same time, they have been careful to avoid the appearance of a formal alliance in order to forestall any domestic backlash. But the ongoing Iran war has exposed the fragility of this model as the Gulf states, especially the UAE, are finding themselves in the crosshairs of Tehran’s retaliation. Washington, they believe, is not stepping up to defend them sufficiently. Gulf leaders are now openly questioning whether such an arrangement remains politically or strategically viable.
That sense of vulnerability has steadily turned into resentment. Gulf governments increasingly believe they are expected to carry disproportionate risks without receiving corresponding guarantees or meaningful consultation. Many officials argue, with some justification, that they are more invested in preserving the alliance than Washington itself appears to be.
Gulf states are not blind to a difficult reality, however. No other power currently possesses the capacity to replace the American security umbrella, particularly in areas such as missile defence, intelligence coordination, naval protection and extended deterrence. Yet even as they acknowledge this dependence, Gulf capitals are quietly recalibrating their exposure and preparing alternatives.
The result is an aggressive hedging strategy playing out across the region. Gulf governments are diversifying their defence relationships, acquiring European radar systems, partnering with Ukraine on anti-drone technologies and channelling increasing investment into European defence industries. Financial diversification is accelerating, too, with discussions underway about reducing reliance on dollar-based settlements.
In the UAE, some policymakers have gone further, openly questioning whether hosting American military bases remains a strategic advantage or has become a dangerous liability. Gulf leaders insist that any future security cooperation with Washington must include genuine consultation before military action begins, unified command structures and binding treaty commitments rather than the informal understandings that have characterised the relationship until now.
China looks at this as an opportunity to expand its presence and influence across the Gulf. As confidence in America declines, China is steadily cultivating partnerships with Saudi Arabia, Iran, the UAE and Israel, but without the encumbrances of a formal alliance system. Chinese technology firms are embedding themselves deeply in Gulf infrastructure through 5G networks, artificial intelligence partnerships and digital payment systems, creating long-term technological dependencies that will prove difficult to unwind. Arms sales are increasing rapidly, too. Chinese weapons transfers to the region have risen sharply, signalling Beijing's clear ambition to become a serious security actor in the region.
Some analysts are also pointing to the emergence of a new informal regional grouping involving Egypt, Pakistan, Saudi Arabia and Turkey, driven by worries about regional instability, the economic consequences of the ongoing war and concerns about Israel's aggressive military posture. One concrete outcome has already materialised in the form of a landmark Saudi-Pakistan defence pact, designed to strengthen deterrence and deepen strategic cooperation between Riyadh and the nuclear-armed South Asian power.
Even as Gulf states search for new alignments, divisions within the GCC remain considerable. Publicly, the organisation continues to project unity, insisting that an attack on one member constitutes an attack on all. In practice, member states pursue sharply different strategies. The UAE has moved closer to Israel on security matters and reportedly received an Iron Dome air defence system during the conflict. Oman and Qatar, by contrast, continue to prioritise diplomacy and mediation with Tehran.
Iran seems to be skilfully exploiting these divisions. Its long-term strategy is possibly to weaken the political foundations of the US-Gulf partnership, not just threaten the GCC states militarily. Tehran is driving home the point that the alliance with the US (and Israel) are doing the Gulf states more harm than good. That could be one of the reasons why it keeps on targeting the UAE heavily while showing greater restraint towards other Gulf states at the moment. The other reason, of course, is to exploit the existing rivalry between Riyadh and Abu Dhabi.
The consequences are now unmistakable. The old regional order, built around unquestioned American primacy, is eroding. Gulf states are no longer willing to rely exclusively on Washington without demanding structural changes to the partnership.