ELIAMEP is launching a new collection of Policy Papers titled The Iran reckoning: Four essays on a war the West was not ready for on the war on Iran, aiming to deliver concise and rigorous analysis of a critical contemporary geopolitical crisis. The papers examine the conflict’s strategic, legal, and economic dimensions, while assessing its implications for regional stability and the international order.
The first policy paper of this collection; titled “The bill will come due: The short, medium and long-term consequences of the Iran war- From oil shock to strategic realignment” argues that while the immediate energy shock has captured global attention, the conflict is generating deeper, structural damage to global food security, energy geography, and the Western security architecture that will persist for decades.
The 2026 Iran War has triggered a structural erosion of the global order, beginning with the immediate suspension of maritime insurance in the Strait of Hormuz that disrupted 20% of global petroleum, one-fifth of LNG trade, and one-third of the world’s seaborne fertiliser shipments. While Brent crude’s peak at $126 per barrel dominated headlines, there is a critical “analytical gap” regarding an impending food security crisis in the Global South, where the loss of agricultural inputs will manifest as compromised harvests and potential regional recessions within 6-12 months. This conflict has fundamentally compromised the 50-year “energy-for-security” compact between the U.S. and Gulf states, leading regional monarchies to perceive Washington more as a source of unpredictability than as a protector, and to accelerate “multi-alignment” security strategies and partnerships with China, India, and Russia.
Read here in pdf the Policy paper by Dr Andréas C. Hatzidiakos, Research Fellow, ELIAMEP; Co-director of OPEWI (Europe’s War Institute).
WITHIN DAYS OF THE CONFLICT’S OPENING PHASE, the Joint War Committee[1] designated the Persian Gulf a high-risk zone, effectively suspending standard marine insurance coverage for commercial vessels and triggering force majeure clauses across thousands of shipping contracts. Tanker operators declined to route through an uninsured conflict zone. Charter rates for available tonnage outside the Gulf spiked to record levels. The commodity flows transiting the Strait of Hormuz – approximately 20 percent of global petroleum consumption and one-fifth of global LNG trade[2], alongside one-third of the world’s traded fertilisers[3] – were disrupted within days, not weeks.
The energy market response generated the headlines. Brent crude reached a peak of $126 per barrel – a level not seen since the 2008 energy crisis – representing a near-50 percent increase from pre-conflict levels within the space of four weeks, carrying immediate political visibility. What received far less attention was the second category of cargo: the ammonium nitrate, urea, and phosphate shipments[4] that underpin agricultural supply chains from South Asia to Sub-Saharan Africa[5], and whose disruption operates on a timeline measured not in trading days but in growing seasons. Less visible still is a third category of consequence – one that will not appear in any commodity price index – the accelerating reconfiguration of Gulf security partnerships. When a protective power becomes a source of instability, the states that depend on it do not wait for the conflict to end before drawing conclusions.
This is the analytical gap this article addresses. The most visible consequences of the 2026 Iran war are severe because they are immediate, tangible and measurable by the average consumer. They are not the most structurally significant. The deeper damage is accumulating in sectors that do not generate equivalent political urgency, at a pace the standard instruments of crisis management are not calibrated to track. The full cost of this conflict will not be presented for months – in some dimensions, for years. When it is, the figure will substantially exceed current estimates.
The immediate shock: energy, markets, and the limits of strategic reservesThe energy market response to the partial closure of the Strait of Hormuz was swift, severe, and entirely consistent with pre-conflict scenario modelling that had been available to governments for over a decade. Brent crude rose above $100 per barrel within days of the conflict’s opening phase. Gulf state oil production – representing approximately one-third of global supply – was immediately disrupted: not primarily through the physical destruction of extraction infrastructure, but through the rapid collapse of the insurance, logistics, and maritime crewing systems on which tanker operations depend. War-risk premiums rendered routine commercial voyages economically inviable within hours of the first engagements. The consequence was a de facto market-imposed embargo, operative before any formal blockade was declared.
The coordinated release of strategic petroleum reserves – approximately 400 million barrels mobilised through American and International Energy Agency frameworks – provided a temporary price cushion and a degree of political cover for affected governments. The limits of this instrument, however, are structural and must be acknowledged clearly: the strategic reserve is a one-use buffer, not a solution. Its drawdown buys weeks, not months. The only genuine resolution to the supply disruption is physical – the reopening of the strait to commercial traffic – and that outcome remains, as of this writing, contingent on a political or military resolution that has yet to materialise.
The immediate shock, considered in isolation, remains within the range of policy management. The problem lies in what follows.
The financial consequences extend well beyond the energy sector. The risk premium now embedded in global asset pricing – the persistent upward pressure reflecting the possibility of further escalation – will not dissolve with a ceasefire announcement. It becomes structural. Institutional investors are repricing long-term infrastructure exposure across the Gulf region. Shipping companies are restructuring route networks and procurement chains. Insurance markets are recalibrating their political-risk models for all Gulf-adjacent maritime corridors. These adjustments, once institutionalised, are not easily reversed. The immediate shock, considered in isolation, remains within the range of policy management. The problem lies in what follows.
The propagation effect: food, fertiliser, and the forgotten supply chainThe Persian Gulf is not solely an oil corridor. This fact – well-documented in commodity trade literature and agricultural economics – has received insufficient attention in the strategic commentary surrounding this conflict.
Α disruption to transit that begins today translates into compromised harvests within four to six months, and into a measurable food price crisis in global commodity markets within six to twelve months.
Gulf states account for approximately half of globally traded urea exports and roughly 30 percent of globally traded ammonia exports. Collectively, approximately one-third of global seaborne fertiliser trade – spanning nitrogen, phosphate, and sulphur compounds – transits the Strait of Hormuz[6]. The agricultural supply chain operates on a timeline that admits no flexibility: fertilisers must be applied at defined intervals within the growing cycle. A disruption to transit that begins today translates into compromised harvests within four to six months, and into a measurable food price crisis in global commodity markets within six to twelve months. The conflict began within that window. The agricultural consequences are already in motion.
The differential impact across economies is stark and deeply inequitable. For energy-exporting nations – the United States, Australia, Norway, Canada – the war represents a significant but manageable cost increase. For energy-importing emerging economies, the compounding effect of elevated energy prices and fertiliser scarcity constitutes a structural crisis. India, Pakistan, Bangladesh, and large portions of Sub-Saharan Africa and Southeast Asia face the simultaneous deterioration of energy affordability, agricultural input availability, and rising food prices[7]. Sub-Saharan Africa is particularly exposed: over 90 percent of the fertilisers used across the region are imported, and maise – the primary staple crop across much of the continent – is acutely dependent on nitrogen inputs now unavailable at predictable cost. For households already operating near subsistence margins, this convergence does not represent a policy challenge. It represents acute food insecurity. At the macroeconomic level, several of these economies face the conditions for recession.
By that point, the window for preventive action will have closed.
The markets and governments of developed economies are currently pricing in an energy shock. They have not yet adequately priced in a food shock. That misjudgement carries significant policy risk. The necessary responses – emergency agricultural financing for the most exposed economies, alternative supply routing for nitrogenous fertilisers, and the development of strategic fertiliser reserve mechanisms comparable to existing energy reserves – require lead times that the political calendar is not currently accommodating. The harvest data, when it arrives in autumn 2026, will confirm what the supply chain data already indicates. By that point, the window for preventive action will have closed.
The reshaping of Gulf security architectureA consequential conversation is underway in Riyadh, Abu Dhabi, Doha, Kuwait, Muscat and Manama. It concerns whether the security architecture that has governed the Gulf for five decades continues to serve the interests of the states it was designed to protect. This conversation deserves more serious analytical attention than it has received.
The Gulf states did not choose this war. Saudi Arabia, the UAE, Qatar, Kuwait, Bahrain and Oman are hosting American Western military assets, providing forward logistical infrastructure, and absorbing Iranian retaliatory strikes – against their desalination facilities, their port infrastructure, and the energy corridors their national economies depend upon – as a direct consequence of a decision taken in Washington without their prior consultation. The implicit architecture underpinning the US-Gulf relationship has, for five decades, rested on a mutual compact: Gulf states provided the United States with territorial access and preferential energy arrangements; in return, they received security guarantees against external aggression, principally from Iran. That compact was institutionalised through a dense basing architecture: Al Udeid Air Base in Qatar – CENTCOM’s forward headquarters, housing approximately 10,000 troops and the largest American installation in the Middle East – the Fifth Fleet headquarters in Bahrain, Camp Arifjan in Kuwait, and Al Dhafra Air Base in the UAE[8].
The United States is not the only Western power to secure a military foothold in the region – though the nature of those arrangements differs. France and the United Kingdom pursued explicitly contractual defence partnerships, negotiated as bilateral agreements rather than implicit strategic compacts. France has maintained a permanent base in Abu Dhabi (Camp de la Paix) since 2009, its first permanent overseas military installation in five decades, established under a formal Defence Cooperation Agreement with the UAE[9]. The United Kingdom formalised its regional presence through the 2019 UK-Oman Joint Defence Agreement, operating a Joint Logistics Support Base at Duqm – deliberately positioned outside the Strait of Hormuz – alongside long-standing training arrangements across the Gulf[10]. These European partnerships were built on treaty frameworks with defined mutual obligations, not on the implicit energy-for-security logic that has characterised the American relationship with the Gulf. That distinction now carries considerable weight. The implicit American compact functioned as long as the United States was perceived by its partners as a net provider of stability – a protective power whose presence reduced regional risk. That perception has been fundamentally altered by the 2026 Iran War. Washington is no longer seen, from Riyadh or Abu Dhabi, primarily as a guarantor. It is seen as a variable – a source of unpredictability whose strategic decisions can destabilise the region as readily as they can protect it.
The gap between the stated American commitment to Gulf stability and the observable consequences of American strategic decisions is now too large to paper over.
This contradiction has not appeared suddenly. Its roots are traceable across several decades of American Middle East policy. What the 2026 conflict has done is render it impossible to manage through the customary instruments of alliance diplomacy – reassurance language, bilateral security memoranda, arms sales, and summit-level consultations. The gap between the stated American commitment to Gulf stability and the observable consequences of American strategic decisions is now too large to paper over.
When the entity responsible for managing a principal risk becomes itself a primary source of that risk, rational actors diversify.
The logic that follows is not ideological. It is actuarial. When the entity responsible for managing a principal risk becomes itself a primary source of that risk, rational actors diversify. They do not necessarily abandon the relationship – the American security architecture remains too deeply embedded, and the alternatives too immature, for a clean break[11]. But they hedge, they build redundancy, and they cultivate alternatives. This is precisely what the Gulf monarchies have been doing, with increasing deliberateness, for the better part of a decade.
The 2023 Saudi-Iran normalisation agreement brokered by Beijing was not a rupture with Washington nor a diplomatic anomaly. It was a deliberate signal from Riyadh that the kingdom was prepared to pursue strategic relationships outside the framework of the American alliance architecture when doing so served its interests. It is a premium paid on a new insurance policy. The acceleration of defence partnerships with France, the United Kingdom, India, and China is not anti-American sentiment. It is portfolio management. Beijing does not impose governance conditions on its partners. It does not threaten sovereign wealth funds with secondary sanctions. It does not initiate regional military campaigns without prior consultation with affected neighbouring states. From the perspective of Gulf leadership calculating long-term regime and state security, Chinese partnership offers an attribute that American partnership has demonstrably ceased to provide: strategic predictability. China’s strategic objective is not to replace the United States as security guarantor – a role for which it currently lacks the regional military infrastructure – but to entrench itself as an indispensable defence-industrial partner, driving Gulf domestic manufacturing capacity and technology transfer while reducing Western leverage.
The architecture of multi-alignment – systematic hedging across major power relationships – was already a feature of Gulf strategic practice before this conflict. It will accelerate significantly in its aftermath.
Russia maintains active military and commercial relationships across the region. India, as the world’s most populous state and a significant energy importer with deep historical ties to Gulf economies, represents a partnership of growing importance to Gulf diversification strategies[12]. India has pursued a deliberate strategy of defence deepening with Gulf states, driven by its own energy dependency and its growing strategic competition with China[13]. At the same time, Pakistan is also positioning itself, by backing Saudi Arabia through a mutual defence cooperation agreement signed in September 2025, featuring a NATO-like article 5 collective defence clause. Turkey, formally a NATO member, has pursued its own Gulf relationships with a degree of strategic independence that pre-existing alliance frameworks have proven unable to constrain. The architecture of multi-alignment – systematic hedging across major power relationships – was already a feature of Gulf strategic practice before this conflict. It will accelerate significantly in its aftermath.
Water security has emerged as an underestimated strategic variable. The desalination facilities of the Arabian Peninsula supply the majority of drinking water for the populations of Kuwait, Qatar, Bahrain, the UAE, Saudi Arabia and Oman[14]. These installations are coastal, energy-intensive, and – as demonstrated in the current conflict – targetable by Iranian-affiliated forces operating with conventional munitions and drone systems. For states in which water supply depends overwhelmingly on desalination, the military targeting of this infrastructure is not a peripheral concern. It represents a direct threat to population welfare and, consequently, to state stability. The exposure of this vulnerability under the conditions of the American security umbrella will not be readily forgotten.
The Hormuz dilemma facing Gulf governments is structurally acute. Their dependence on the strait – for oil export revenues, for food imports, for the full range of consumer and industrial goods their economies require – is as great as that of any state on earth. And yet the political constraints operating on Gulf governments prevent any public acknowledgement of this dependency in the context of the current conflict, for fear of being perceived as taking a position against Washington or in favour of Tehran. Gulf states are, in effect, trapped in a conflict they did not initiate, whose costs they are absorbing, and whose resolution they cannot publicly advocate. Strategic entrapment of this kind, sustained over time, generates deep institutional resentment. And institutional resentment, in the strategic context, becomes the precondition for realignment.
The United States may succeed in its military objectives against Iran. If that outcome is achieved while permanently eroding the confidence of Gulf partner states in American reliability as a security provider, the strategic ledger will record a tactical success and a generational loss.
The long-term recomposition: energy routes, the transition, and American credibilityThe structural consequences of the Hormuz disruption extend well beyond the Gulf region and will prove resistant to reversal once the underlying investment decisions have been made.
Asian energy consumers – China, India, Japan, and South Korea, which collectively absorb over 80 percent of the crude oil and LNG transiting the strait – are not adopting a passive posture while awaiting the strait’s reopening. China is accelerating overland pipeline imports from Russia and Central Asia, and has formally incorporated the Power of Siberia-2 pipeline through Mongolia into its 2026–2030 strategic development plan[15]. India’s four major state energy companies – Indian Oil, Bharat Petroleum, Hindustan Petroleum, and GAIL – are in active negotiations with Angola’s Sonangol for alternative LPG and LNG supply, while simultaneously deepening procurement agreements with Australian producers[16], whose delivery times to Indian ports are less than a third of those from the United States. Japan and South Korea signed a bilateral LNG cooperation and supply-chain resilience pact in March 2026, coordinating alternative sourcing and reducing single-supplier exposure, while Japan accelerates nuclear restarts as a structural hedge[17]. These are not emergency contingency measures. They are capital investment decisions with twenty-year operational horizons. Once the physical infrastructure is built and the long-term supply contracts executed, the strategic geography of global energy does not revert to its prior configuration simply because a ceasefire has been reached in the Persian Gulf.
The position of the United States in this dynamic is characterised by a sharp and consequential divergence between short-term commercial gain and long-term strategic cost.
The position of the United States in this dynamic is characterised by a sharp and consequential divergence between short-term commercial gain and long-term strategic cost. As the world’s largest oil and gas producer, the United States benefits commercially from elevated crude prices driven by Gulf supply disruption. American shale exports are reaching markets at a significant premium. In the near term, Washington is in the position of a major supplier monetising a crisis whose conditions it helped to create. For some constituencies within the current administration, this represents an acceptable or even desirable strategic outcome.
The longer-term calculation, however, runs in the opposite direction. The credibility of American maritime leadership – the foundational proposition that has underpinned the international trading order since 1945 – rests on the premise that the United States is both willing and able to maintain freedom of navigation in international waterways. The 2026 Hormuz crisis has placed that premise under serious strain. Not because of any demonstrated deficiency in American naval capability, but because the United States is now perceived, across a significant portion of the international community, as an actor capable of precipitating the maritime crisis it formally claims to prevent. This perception – once established in the institutional memory of governments, port authorities, shipping companies, and commodity markets – is not readily reversed by subsequent reassurances.
The energy transition is likely to emerge as one of the more durable unintended structural consequences of this conflict.
The energy transition is likely to emerge as one of the more durable unintended structural consequences of this conflict. European and Asian policymakers have, for over a decade, framed the decarbonisation agenda in predominantly environmental and climate terms. The political coalitions required to sustain that argument have been difficult to construct and prone to erosion under short-term economic pressure. The 2026 Hormuz disruption introduces a new and politically far more powerful argument into the policy calculus: dependency on Gulf hydrocarbons is a strategic liability, not merely an environmental one. The political consensus required to accelerate investment in renewable capacity, nuclear energy, grid storage, and demand-side efficiency – a consensus that has been frustratingly incomplete in the face of energy sector lobbying and short-term industrial interests – is now available in a form that no previous policy argument had been able to generate.
What Europe must do – and is not doingEurope will not be insulated from the consequences of this conflict by the fact of its non-participation. The migration flows, energy market repricing, nuclear proliferation risk, regional fragmentation, and hybrid security threats that this war is generating do not terminate at the EU’s external borders. They will manifest in European capitals regardless of the decisions, or failures of decision, made in Brussels, Berlin, and Paris.
The G7 Foreign Ministers’ meeting of 26-27 March 2026 produced language, from several European participants, invoking the concept of a “new world order”. The impulse behind this formulation is understandable – the scale of the strategic disruption underway does carry the character of rupture. The formulation is, however, analytically imprecise in ways that have policy consequences. The foundational architecture established in 1945 – the United Nations Charter, the prohibition on aggressive war as an instrument of state policy, the principle that international peace constitutes a common good subject to collective security (not defence) – has not been formally abrogated. What has changed is something more specific: the recognition, now no longer deniable, that while the strategic tempo in international affairs continues to be set by Washington, Washington’s tempo is no longer reliably aligned with European interests, strategic priorities, or conceptions of international order.
Europe must now make choices it has postponed for a generation.
This is not, in fact, a new world. It is the world as it has been for a considerable period – one that European institutions and governments have consistently chosen not to engage with in its full complexity, because doing so would have required politically costly decisions about defence investment, strategic industrial policy, and the development of a European strategic autonomy and capacity. What this conflict has done is eliminate the space for continued deferral. The comfort of strategic ambiguity is no longer available. Europe must now make choices it has postponed for a generation.
The post-conflict reconstruction phase will represent the point at which European leverage is most concentrated and most actionable.
The post-conflict reconstruction phase will represent the point at which European leverage is most concentrated and most actionable. The economic reconstruction of a post-conflict Iran – or the stabilisation of a fragmenting one – will require financial frameworks, governance architecture, sanctions relief mechanisms, and diplomatic recognition processes that only the European Union, with its combination of market scale, institutional capacity and, above all, normative credibility, can provide at the necessary level. That leverage is real. It is also conditional: it exists only to the extent that Europe arrives at the negotiating table with a coherent, unified position, a defined set of political conditions, and both the institutional and political will to link its reconstruction contribution to outcomes that serve European strategic interests.
What European institutions cannot afford is to finance, yet again, stabilisation efforts shaped by other actors’ strategic objectives without securing meaningful influence over the political outcomes those efforts are intended to produce.
What European institutions cannot afford – and what precedent from Iraq, Afghanistan, and Libya suggests remains the default – is to finance, yet again, stabilisation efforts shaped by other actors’ strategic objectives without securing meaningful influence over the political outcomes those efforts are intended to produce. The post-conflict order of the broader Middle East and Gulf region will be the defining strategic question of the next decade. The decisions made in the coming eighteen months regarding sanctions architecture, nuclear verification, Gulf security guarantees, and the political future of Iran will shape regional order for a generation – pending resolution of the conflict. If European engagement in that process is limited to the provision of reconstruction funding without strategic conditionality, the cost will be borne by European citizens for years without a commensurate return in security, stability, or influence.
[1] The Joint War Committee (JWC) is a body of senior underwriters from Lloyd’s of London and the International Underwriting Association (IUA) that assesses maritime conflict risk globally. It publishes periodically updated “Listed Areas” – zones requiring advance notification to insurers and attracting substantially elevated war-risk premiums, often negotiated on a single-voyage basis. Its designations carry no regulatory authority but function in practice as the industry standard: when the JWC lists a zone, standard hull war-risk coverage for transiting vessels is effectively suspended, with immediate systemic consequences for commercial shipping decisions. In March 2026, the Committee extended its Listed Areas to cover the Persian Gulf and Gulf states hosting US military assets, triggering the cascade of insurance and logistics disruptions described in this article.
[2] US Energy Information Administration (EIA), “Amid Regional Conflict, the Strait of Hormuz Remains Critical Oil Chokepoint”, Today in Energy, 16/06/2025.
[3] Carnegie Endowment for International Peace, “The Other Global Crisis Stemming from the Strait of Hormuz’s Blockage”, Emissary, 12/03/2026.
[4] The three primary fertiliser categories transiting Hormuz are nitrogenous fertilisers (urea and ammonium nitrate, derived from Gulf-produced ammonia), and phosphate-based fertilisers. Gulf states collectively account for 43-49 percent of global seaborne urea exports, approximately 25-30 percent of globally traded ammonia, and a significant share of phosphate exports. South Asia and Sub-Saharan Africa are disproportionately exposed: India sources over 40 percent of its urea and the majority of its ammonia imports from the region, while Sub-Saharan Africa – where fertiliser application rates are already among the world’s lowest – depends on Gulf states for approximately 25-35 percent of total fertiliser supply.
[5] See CSIS, “Chokepoint: How the War with Iran Threatens Global Food Security”, 10/03/2026.
[6] See above: Carnegie Endowment for International Peace, “The Other Global Crisis Stemming from the Strait of Hormuz’s Blockage”, Emissary, 12/03/2026.
[7] Reuters, “Which Economies Will Hurt Most from Iran War?”, 20/03/2026.
[8] Council on Foreign Relations, “U.S. Forces in the Middle East: Mapping the Military Presence”, 23/06/2025.
[9] The defence relationship between France and the United Arab Emirates is anchored in a bilateral Defence Cooperation Agreement signed on 18 January 1995 after two decades of close political and military ties. Under that agreement, France committed to the UAE’s defence in the event of external aggression, and the UAE granted France permanent military basing rights. The arrangement was formalised into a permanent military installation – Camp de la Paix, Abu Dhabi – inaugurated by President Sarkozy in May 2009. The base hosts between approximately 500 to 700 French Army, Navy, and Air Force personnel and is positioned to face the Strait of Hormuz directly, giving France a permanent operational footprint at the Gulf’s most strategically sensitive point. The partnership encompasses regular joint exercises, defence industrial cooperation – including the landmark 2021 order for 80 Rafale fighter jets, the largest single French arms export in history – and a mutual assistance clause that, in principle, obligates France to respond to a military attack on the UAE – which it did at the highest of the Hormuz crisis.
[10] The United Kingdom’s defence relationship with Oman is among the longest-standing bilateral security partnerships in the Gulf, rooted in historical ties predating Omani independence. It was substantially updated and formalised through the Joint Defence Agreement (JDA) signed in Muscat on 21 February 2019 by UK Defence Secretary Gavin Williamson and Omani Minister for Defence Affairs Badr Bin Saud, and ratified by Royal Decree 42/2019. The JDA provides the UK with long-term access to the Duqm Port Joint Logistics Support Base – a deep-water facility deliberately located south of the Strait of Hormuz, outside the primary Iranian threat envelope – and to the Omani-British Joint Training Area (OBJTA) near Duqm, enabling large-scale combined-arms exercises, armoured manoeuvres, and integrated air support training. In exchange, the UK committed £3 billion over ten years to Gulf regional security. A further annex agreement was concluded in 2023, refining access arrangements and implementation modalities. Unlike the US basing framework – which rests on an implicit energy-for-security compact – the UK-Oman arrangement is a formally ratified treaty with defined mutual obligations, placing it on a qualitatively different legal and political footing.
[11] China’s defence relationship with the Gulf has evolved from arms sales into a comprehensive strategic architecture. Saudi Arabia and the UAE both signed Comprehensive Strategic Partnership Agreements with Beijing – the UAE in 2018, Saudi Arabia in December 2022 during Xi Jinping’s state visit to Riyadh.
[12] The foundational instrument is the UAE-India Defence Cooperation Agreement (2003), which established frameworks for military training, naval cooperation, and maritime pollution control. That agreement was substantially upgraded on 19 January 2026, when UAE President Mohamed bin Zayed Al Nahyan’s state visit to New Delhi produced a bilateral Strategic Defence Partnership letter of intent, a $3 billion Indian arms procurement package, and a ten-year LNG supply contract between ADNOC Gas and Hindustan Petroleum.
[13] The rivalry between IMEC – the India-Middle East-Europe Economic Corridor, championed by the United States and its Western partners – and BRI – China’s Belt and Road Initiative, developed alongside Russia, Pakistan, and Iran – reflects a broader struggle to shape the arteries of global trade and influence. The current military conflict involving Iran risks directly threatening the strategic calculus underpinning both projects, as it disrupts Gulf energy flows and forces regional states to recalibrate their alignments. For India, such instability confirms the necessity to anchor Gulf partners – particularly the UAE and Saudi Arabia – within the IMEC framework, deepening New Delhi’s strategic and economic footprint in a region where China has also made significant inroads. Beijing, conversely, stands to lose a key BRI node and a critical energy supplier, compelling it to intensify its courtship of Gulf monarchies to preserve its supply chain resilience. As indicated by Zaki Laïdi and Yves Tiberghien in their article “Hedgers : les nouveaux non-alignés”, Le Grand Continent, 30/03/2026, over the past three decades, virtually eight countries studied (India, Indonesia, Vietnam, Brazil, Saudi Arabia, the UAE, South Africa, and Qatar) have reduced their trade dependence on the United States. All eight countries have massively expanded their trade ties with China, which is now the primary source of imports for six of them (accounting for between 17% and 39% depending on the country). This commercial shift illustrates the decline of American economic centrality to the benefit of Beijing across the Global South, a trend that the Trump administration’s trade war risks amplifying even further. The Iran war thus risks transforming the Gulf into a theatre of intensified Sino-Indian competition, where infrastructure investment, energy diplomacy, and security partnerships become instruments of geopolitical positioning.
[14] Gulf states supply over 90 percent of drinking water through desalination for Kuwait and Bahrain, 86 percent for Oman, 70 percent for Saudi Arabia, and over 99 percent of Qatar’s drinking water. See Arab Center Washington DC, “The Costs and Benefits of Water Desalination in the Gulf”, 12/04/2023.
[15] See Oxford Institute for Energy Studies, “Disruption in the Strait of Hormuz: Implications for China’s Energy Security”, Michal Meidan, March 2026. See also The Diplomat, “How the Iran War Could Boost Russia’s Role in Asia’s Energy Future”, 17/03/2026.
[16] See for example Business Today (India), “Why India Will Look at Australia, Russia over US for LNG”, 19/03/2026.
[17] See Energy Intelligence, “Gulf Crisis Exposes Japan, South Korea’s Transition Strategies”, 25/03/2026
UN lobby with images of former UN secretaries-generals. Credit: United Nations
With the deadline for candidates’ nominations now passed, four names are officially in the frame. Prof. Felix Dodds and Chris Spence size up the candidates.
By Felix Dodds and Chris Spence
APEX, North Carolina / SAN FRANCISCO, California, Apr 8 2026 (IPS)
Let the race begin!
April 1st was the deadline for candidates to be nominated for Secretary-General. Was it a coincidence that the deadline was April Fool’s Day? Judging by the quality of the official candidates, we suspect so.
Before looking at the four official finalists, however, it’s worth examining the state of global politics, since this will certainly have an impact on the likely outcome.
We are currently living in one of the most unstable times since the Second World War. Multilateralism is under threat and the UN is facing significant political and financial turbulence. To its credit, the UN is attempting to address these challenges through the UN80 process, which is trying to repurpose it for the years ahead. However, as the world becoming increasingly multipolar.
As the previous global order, shaped largely by the U.S. and its western allies, recedes into the rear-view mirror, there will still be plenty for a new Secretary General to do. In short, she or he will inherit an institution and a staff that is unclear about exactly what their future role should be.
One critical issue when looking at the candidates is to understand that any of the Permanent Five members of the powerful UN Security Council (China, France, Russia, the UK, and the USA) can veto a candidate. Will any of them exercise that power? Recent history suggests they may. Russia in particular has recently increased its use of the veto, and the US and China have also done so on occasion, although the UK and France have not exercised their “rights” in several decades.
Do the P5 share the same outlook in terms of a future Secretary General? For better or worse, it looks increasingly like the “big five” are looking for more of a “Secretary” than a “General”. On that basis, finding common ground may be possible.
What’s more, there is a general expectation that the successful candidate will probably be from Latin America and the Caribbean. This is based on a general sense among UN member states that leadership rotates through the various regional groups and that it is Latin America and the Caribbean’s ‘turn’.
So far, there has been no public disagreement with this approach, although the regional rotations are considered more of a guideline than a hard rule, and there have been exceptions in the past. For instance, present UN Secretary General, António Guterres of Portugal, was appointed at a time when it was generally expected that the successful candidate would come from Eastern Europe.
Another consideration is gender. The last time a Secretary General was appointed, there was a strong push to appoint a woman. This did not happen, even though seven qualified women were nominated.
In the straw polls held prior to this hiring process, António Guterres was the only candidate who did not attract a veto. In part, this was because he was the most experienced candidate and the first former head of state to stand. However, calls for a woman leader are perhaps even stronger this time around, backed by a sense that such an appointment is long overdue.
So, who are the four official candidates, and what happens next?
The four candidates that have been nominated will each have a three-hour “hustings” on the 21st or 22nd of April, which will be available to view live on UN web TV.
The candidates are:
MICHELLE BACHELET
Nominated by Brazil and Mexico (although her own country, Chile, has withdrawn its support). Bachelet is a former President of Chile. Her party was the Socialist Party of Chile, which is a member of the Progressive Alliance. Her hustings appearance will be on April 21st 10am to 1pm Eastern time.
Advantages
Seniority: Bachelet has held the top job in Chile not once, but twice. Not only that, but she has also held two senior roles within the UN. Her experience has been at the highest level, and her networks are impressive. It is hard to imagine someone with a more appropriate mix of expertise.
UN Credentials: As a former head of both UN Women and the UN High Commission for Human Rights, Bachelet’s insider knowledge is considerable. She would know how to navigate the organization effectively from her first day in the job.
A Female Leader: Michelle Bachelet would be a strong candidate to break the glass ceiling and become the first female leader of the UN.
A Latina Leader: With the tradition that the UN Secretary-General is chosen by rotating through the various UN regions, Bachelet would likely satisfy those who believe it is Latin America and the Caribbean’s “turn” to nominate Guterres’ successor.
Proven Impact: There are few potential candidates who could point to such broad impact both as a national leader and during two separate stints in high-level UN roles, especially in the fields of human rights and supporting vulnerable populations. Given the unprecedented uncertainty swirling around international diplomacy these days, a figure with a reputation as a “doer” may be welcomed.
Disadvantages
Objections from the Big Five? Bachelet has made comments in the past, particularly during her time as the UN High Commissioner for Human Rights, that may not have been welcomed by specific UN member states. With her own country withdrawing its support for her, it may make difficulties for her candidacy.
In spite of Bachelet’s obvious credentials, if even one of the “Big Five” members of the Security Council shows sensitivity to her past human rights comments, Bachelet may have her work cut out to change their views. Still, her credentials are impressive and even opponents might have a hard time making a case against her.
RAFAEL GROSSI
Nominated by Argentina, Italy, and Paraguay, Grossi is the present Director of the International Atomic Energy Agency. He is an Argentine career diplomat. His hustings are on April 21st from 3pm to 6pm.
Advantages
Seniority: He has held the post of Argentina Ambassador to Austria, Belgium, Slovenia, Slovakia, and International Organizations in Vienna, and the permanent representative of the United Nations Office at Geneva. While not as politically senior as some of the competition, his track record in diplomacy is certainly strong.
UN Credentials: He is the current Director General of the International Atomic Energy Agency (IAEA) since December 3, 2019.
Proven Impact: Grossi has dealt with nuclear safety in conflict zones, doing shuttle diplomacy to maintain communications between warring parties. His work includes preventing nuclear accidents, particularly at the Zaporizhzhia Nuclear Power Plant in Ukraine. He has also, through his “Atoms for Peace and Development”, modernized the IAEA, addressing issues of climate change, poverty, and fostering nuclear technology for development.
Latin Leader: Grossi also ticks the regional box, since he is from the Latin American and Caribbean Group.
Disadvantages
Objections from the Big Five? It’s hard to say. In spite of an exemplary record as a diplomat, in recent years Iranian officials accused him of aligning too closely with U.S. and Israeli interests. This is something Grossi’s supporters deny, and it is unclear how other in the P5, particularly China and Russia, might view the situation.
Not A Female Leader: Clearly not a woman, although it is unclear if this would be a deciding factor or deal breaker for the P5 under its current political leadership.
REBECCA GRYNSPAN
Grynspan was nominated by Costa Rica. She is the current Secretary-General of UNCTAD and a former Vice President of Costa Rica. She was a member of the National Liberation Party, which is a member of Socialist International. Hustings April 22nd, 10 am to 1 pm.
Advantages
Seniority: Grynspan may not have been a president or prime minister, but as Vice President of Costa Rica she climbed close to the summit of her country’s political mountain.
UN Experience: As the first female Secretary-General of UNCTAD, Grynspan has already broken one glass ceiling within the United Nations. She would also bring more than twenty years’ experience within the UN system, something that would surely be viewed as an asset during these uncertain times.
Additionally, she is familiar with the internal workings of the UN in Geneva, New York and across Latin America, giving her insights into decision making at both headquarters and regionally. This breadth of experience within the UN could be useful to any future UN leader.
Proven Impact: Grynspan is viewed as someone who can have an impact, a perception recognized by Forbes magazine, which named her among the 100 most powerful women in Central America four years running. She was also instrumental in the UN-brokered Black Sea Initiative, agreed by Russia, Türkiye, and Ukraine, that has allowed millions of tons of grain and other foodstuffs to leave Ukraine’s ports, playing an important role in global food security.
Connections: Grynspan has had many years of experience operating at the regional and global levels. Her networks may arguably not be as wide as some other candidates’, but would still provide a good platform for her to succeed.
A Female Leader: Grynspan offers the chance to break the glass ceiling and become the first female leader of the UN.
Climate and the Environment: Although Grynspan has strong credentials on trade, finance and development, it is only in recent years that she has taken a higher profile on climate change and some of the other big environmental issues of our time. Interestingly, this may be an advantage at this moment in time, since more some P5 members are now either lukewarm or hostile to candidates with a progressive track record on climate change.
Disadvantages
Peace and Security: Peace, security, and conflict resolution have not featured prominently in her background. If the UN Security Council members are looking for expertise in this area, might Grynspan’s relative lack of experience be considered a possible weakness?
Name Recognition: Although she is widely respected in her fields and across the UN, Grynspan may not have the same sort of name recognition among the public as some of the other candidates.
Objections from the Big Five? How might Grynspan’s political background play out in the current politically-charged atmosphere? Will her center-left credentials find a sympathetic audience among the current P5, or might some in the current conservative US administration object?
MACKY SALL
Nominated by Burundi, Sall is the former President of Senegal and Chairman of the African Union. Politically, his party (Alliance for the Republic) is a member of Liberal International. Hustings April 22nd, from 3pm to 6pm.
Advantages
Seniority: As the former President of Senegal (2012-2024) and former Prime Minister (2004-2007), he has the seniority that a UN Secretary General might well need these days.
Proven Impact: As Chairperson of the African Union, he succeeded in lobbying for the AU to join the G20. He has mediated in regional crises.
Objections from the Big Five? Sall is a center-right politician known to have forged positive ties with France’s Emmanual Macron. Will a right-wing administration in the US be drawn to a candidate also on the conservative side of the political spectrum?
Disadvantages
UN Credentials: Sall cannot claim strong UN credentials, but has been the chairperson of the African Union and a Special Envoy for the Paris Pact for the People and the Planet.
Not A Female Leader: While he would disappoint the many voices calling for the next UN head to be a woman, it’s unclear that would be a reason for any of the P5 to veto.
Not from Latin America: How important is it that the next Secretary-General be from the Latin American and Caribbean Group? At this point, it is hard to say if rotating around the regions “fairly” will be a big issue for members states. As noted earlier, it was not a deal breaker last time around.
A Late Entrant?
What if all four official candidates fail to win over the P5? We have seen in the past that new candidates appear after the nomination deadline. In fact, the process was only truly formalized as recently as 2015. Before that, the selection of a new UN leader was known for being opaque and characterized by back-room discussions and P5 deal making.
If consensus among the P5 cannot be reached, other candidates must emerge. Possibilities from the Latin American and Caribbean Group might include Ivonne Baki (Ecuador), Alicia Bárcena (Mexico), David Choquehuanca (Bolivia), María Fernanda Espinosa (Ecuador), Mia Mottley (Barbados), and Achim Steiner (Brazil).
There may also be interest from beyond the region, such as Amina Mohammed (Nigeria), who is the UN’s current Deputy Secretary-General. Additionally, Kristalina Georgieva (Bulgaria) and Vuk Jeremić (Serbia)—both former center-right European politicians with strong international credentials—have also been mentioned.
However, if the four official candidates all fail to find favor, then appointing a successor that all the P5 can agree on may take some deft diplomatic manoeuvring. At this point, the outcome of such haggling is pretty much anyone’s guess.
Prof. Felix Dodds and Chris Spence have been involved with UN policy making since the 1990s. They recently wrote Environmental Lobbying at the United Nations: A Guide to Protecting Our Planet (Routledge, 2025) and co-edited Heroes of Environmental Diplomacy: Profiles in Courage (Routledge, 2022).
IPS UN Bureau
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Life expectancies at birth reveal significant disparities in death rates. Some of the lowest life expectancies at birth, around 55 years, are seen in sub-Saharan African countries, such as Nigeria, Chad, and South Sudan. Credit: Shutterstock
By Joseph Chamie
PORTLAND, USA, Apr 7 2026 (IPS)
As stated in Hamlet, “Thou know’st ’tis common; all that lives must die, Passing through nature to eternity.” Although death is inevitable for all living beings, human mortality, which is expected to reach approximately 64 million individual deaths worldwide in 2026, is not evenly distributed across populations.
While mortality is a common fate for all humans, the timing, causes, and circumstances of death vary greatly across and within countries. This discrepancy often leads to a gap in death rates between privileged and marginalized groups.
Inequalities in human mortality are evident worldwide. Premature death is particularly prevalent in low-income regions due to limited access to healthcare, poverty, and conflict. This results in a world where some individuals pass away at young ages while others enjoy a long life.
From the first year of life, significant differences in the likelihood of death among human populations become apparent. Countries such as Iceland, Japan, and Finland have some of the lowest infant mortality rates, with less than 2 infant deaths per 1,000 live births. In contrast, nations like Niger, Somalia, and Nigeria have some of the highest rates, with more than 62 infant deaths per 1,000 births, which is 30 times higher than the lowest rates (Figure 1).
Source: United Nations.
The disparities in infant mortality rates are also evident in maternal mortality rates. In 2023, some of the highest maternal mortality rates are found in sub-Saharan African countries, such as South Sudan, Chad, and Nigeria, with more than 1,000 maternal deaths per 100,000 births. In contrast, countries like Norway, Poland, and Iceland have rates of less than 3 maternal deaths per 100,000 births.
Similarly, life expectancies at birth in 2025 reveal significant disparities in death rates. Some of the lowest life expectancies at birth, around 55 years, are seen in sub-Saharan African countries, such as Nigeria, Chad, and South Sudan. Conversely, countries like Japan, South Korea, and Switzerland have relatively high life expectancies at birth, approximately 30 years greater at about 85 years (Figure 2).
Source: United Nations.
Disparities in death rates persist when comparing life expectancies at age 65. In 2025, life expectancy at age 65 is around 12 years in Nigeria, Chad, and Togo, while it is approximately 23 years in Japan, France, and Australia.
Mortality variations exist not only among countries but also within countries. For instance, in 2022, life expectancy at birth in the United States varied from highs of about 80 years in Hawaii, Massachusetts, and New Jersey to lows of approximately 73 years in Kentucky, Mississippi, and West Virgina (Figure 3).
Source: U.S. National Vital Statistics System.
Differences in life expectancy at birth exist among the major ethnic groups in the United States. In 2021, life expectancies at birth for these groups varied considerably, approximately 84 years for Asians, 78 for Latinos, 77 for Whites, 72 for Blacks, and 64 for Native Indians.
Furthermore, differences in life expectancy at birth also exist based on income and education. Generally, individuals from working-class backgrounds and those with lower levels of education can expect to live shorter lives compared to wealthier and more educated individuals.
For example, in the United States, working-class individuals can expect to die at least 7 years earlier than their wealthy counterparts. Higher education is also linked to higher income, lifestyle improvements, increased access to health-care, and longer life spans.
In addition to deaths caused by illness, disease, accidents, violence, conflict, and war, voluntary human death is becoming a significant global issue.
Inequalities in human mortality exist both among nations and within them, spanning various social and economic dimensions. While death is a natural part of life, the distribution of human deaths is unequal, with some individuals passing away at a young age while others enjoy a long life
Medically assisted death, also known as death with dignity, voluntary assisted dying, or medical aid in dying (MAID), is a topic of debate in many countries. This practice can involve assisted suicide, where the individual takes the lethal medication themselves, or euthanasia, where a doctor administers the medication.
While MAID is not legal in most countries, it is permitted in a growing number of countries under certain circumstances. Definitions and eligibility for medically assisted death vary across countries and states or provinces within countries.
Although laws vary in scope from place to place, jurisdictions that allow medically assisted death generally permit mentally competent, terminally ill, or suffering adults to end their lives with medical assistance. To qualify for voluntary assisted dying, individuals must meet certain criteria, which often include having a terminal or incurable illness with a short-term prognosis, being of sound judgment, voluntarily deciding to end their life, repeatedly expressing their desire to die, and self-administering the lethal dose.
Approximately twenty countries and various states or provinces within countries permit medically assisted death. These places include Austria, parts of Australia, Belgium, Canada, Colombia, Ecuador, Luxembourg, the Netherlands, New Zealand, Portugal, Spain, Switzerland, and parts of the United States. In a number of other countries, including France, Germany, Ireland, Portugal, and Great Britain, legislators are considering bills on laws or rules on medically assisted death.
Among those who choose to take a lethal dose of medication, some key concerns for many of them include the loss of autonomy, control, bodily functions, and dignity; minimizing severe pain and intense emotional distress; inability to engage in enjoyable or meaningful life activities; reduced quality of life; fear of becoming a burden on family and caregivers; anxiety over future suffering; and avoidance of financial implications of treatment.
Additionally, some of the most common medical conditions in euthanasia requests include cancer in a terminal phase, Alzheimer’s disease, dementia, constant suffering, and advanced cardiovascular disorders.
Those opposed to medically assisted death offer several arguments against it. They believe it creates the potential for abuse; leads to a slippery slope towards involuntary euthanasia; normalizes death as a solution; and undermines medical ethics and the sanctity of life.
They also argue that assisted suicide poses risks to vulnerable populations by influencing societal attitudes and policies towards older adults, the seriously ill, and the disabled. They believe it could lead to placing pressure on those considered a societal burden, jeopardizing funding and provision of palliative care. Additionally, there are concerns about ensuring that individuals’ decisions to end their lives are genuinely voluntary.
In summary, inequalities in human mortality exist both among nations and within them, spanning various social and economic dimensions. While death is a natural part of life, the distribution of human deaths is unequal, with some individuals passing away at a young age while others enjoy a long life.
The unequal distribution of resources often leads to a mortality gap between privileged and marginalized groups. Premature death is particularly prevalent in low-income regions, primarily due to factors such as limited access to healthcare, poverty, and conflict. Additionally, the contentious issue of voluntary human death, also known as medically assisted death, is receiving global attention. There are strong arguments both in favor of and against this policy, with around twenty countries allowing it under specific circumstances.
Joseph Chamie is a consulting demographer, a former director of the United Nations Population Division, and author of many publications on population issues.
Die aktuelle Situation rund um die Energieversorgung und die Energiepreise schätzt Claudia Kemfert, Energieökonomin und Leiterin der Abteilung Energie, Verkehr, Umwelt im Deutschen Institut für Wirtschaftsforschung (DIW Berlin), wie folgt ein:
Die Aussage des Chefs der Internationalen Energieagentur, wonach die Welt noch nie eine Unterbrechung der Energieversorgung im derzeitigen Ausmaß erlebt habe, klingt drastisch, stimmt aber. Wir erleben gerade die schwerste fossile Energiekrise unserer Zeit. Es handelt sich um einen multiplen Schock aus steigenden Öl-, Gas- und Nahrungsmittelpreisen, der die Verwundbarkeit unseres Systems schonungslos offenlegt. Wenn zentrale Lieferwege ausfallen und Fördermengen einbrechen, gerät die Weltwirtschaft ins Wanken.
Das ist kein einmaliger Ausnahmefall, sondern typisch für ein fossiles Energiesystem, das auf geopolitischen Abhängigkeiten basiert. Diese Krisen sind systemimmanent – ein energiepolitischer Kurzschluss, bei dem immer wieder versucht wird, das fossile System zu stabilisieren, statt es zu überwinden. Strategische Reserven können den Druck kurzfristig etwas lindern, lösen aber nicht das Problem. Solange wir an Öl und Gas festhalten, bleiben wir erpressbar und anfällig für massive Preisschocks.
Gerade bei steigenden Spritpreisen zeigt sich: Pauschale Tankrabatte sind eine teure Scheinlösung. Sie verpuffen oft und entlasten nicht gezielt. Besser sind direkte Entlastungen wie ein Klimageld, mehr Markttransparenz und eine stärkere Kontrolle überhöhter Preise. Kurzfristig helfen Tempolimit, mehr Homeoffice und ein günstiger öffentlicher Verkehr, um die Nachfrage zu senken und Preise zu stabilisieren.
Die einzige nachhaltige Antwort auf diese Krise ist klar: Raus aus fossilen Abhängigkeiten. Erneuerbare Energien sind der beste Schutzschild – sie müssen nicht importiert werden, sind ausreichend vorhanden und taugen nicht als Erpressungsmittel. Wer jetzt weiter auf fossile Lösungen setzt, verschärft die Krise und verspielt die Zukunft.