Sameer Rekhi

The war on Iran and the disruption of the Strait of Hormuz are being read, understandably, as a security and energy crisis. But beneath the immediate turmoil lies a deeper rupture - one defined less by fear than by resentment. Across West Asia, particularly in the Gulf, there is a growing sense that American power no longer guarantees stability, and worse, that it increasingly exports risk to its own partners.
For decades, the United States positioned itself as the ultimate security guarantor in the region. The bargain was implicit but clear: alignment with Washington would ensure protection, predictability, and the steady flow of energy through critical chokepoints like Hormuz. That bargain now appears frayed.
The Strait of Hormuz - through which roughly a fifth of global oil passes - has become a contested and unpredictable zone. Iranian actions, ranging from harassment of shipping to calibrated disruptions, have demonstrated how quickly global energy lifelines can be choked. Oil markets have reacted sharply, supply chains have been strained, and the cost of instability has been borne most immediately by those closest to it: the Gulf economies.
Yet what is striking is not just the disruption, but the reaction of America's traditional partners.
There is unease, but also quiet anger.
From Riyadh to Abu Dhabi, policymakers have been careful in their public language. But the underlying sentiment is increasingly visible: that escalation with Iran - particularly when driven or accelerated by US and Israeli actions - has imposed disproportionate costs on regional states without offering commensurate control over outcomes.
This is not a new concern, but it has now acquired sharper edges.
The Iraq war, the inconsistent handling of Syria, and the abrupt withdrawal from Afghanistan had already seeded doubts about American judgement and reliability. The current crisis deepens those doubts. Gulf states are being asked, implicitly, to absorb the economic and security fallout of a confrontation in which they have limited say.
The result is a subtle but important shift: from dependence to defensive autonomy.
Rather than lining up behind a US-led response, regional actors are hedging. Some are reopening or sustaining channels with Tehran. Others are pursuing quiet understandings to ensure the safety of their shipping. The instinct is no longer to rely solely on Washington, but to manage risk through multiple pathways.
This is where the sense of betrayal becomes most evident.
For many in the region, the expectation was not that the United States would eliminate all threats, but that it would prevent crises from spiralling in ways that directly endanger its partners. Instead, the current situation suggests a different dynamic - one in which US strategy can trigger escalation, but cannot fully contain it.
China's role in this shifting landscape is instructive. It has avoided overt military involvement, yet its economic centrality and diplomatic engagement have allowed it to remain relevant without being blamed for the crisis. Its earlier brokering of the Saudi-Iran rapprochement now appears, in retrospect, as part of a broader pattern: offering stability without entanglement.
Russia, meanwhile, continues to operate as a flexible power, maintaining ties with Iran while benefiting from higher energy prices and a distracted West. Neither Beijing nor Moscow is positioned to replace Washington - but both are contributing to a system in which American primacy is no longer uncontested or sufficient.
For the Gulf states, this creates both risk and opportunity. The risk lies in operating within a more volatile and less predictable security environment. The opportunity lies in greater strategic room to manoeuvre - to engage multiple powers, diversify partnerships, and reduce exposure to any single actor's decisions.
For India, the implications are immediate. With nearly 60 per cent of its crude imports linked to this region and millions of its citizens living and working there, instability in Hormuz translates directly into economic and social vulnerability. But equally, the shifting order reinforces India's long-standing instinct for multi-alignment - engaging all sides while avoiding entrapment.
What is unfolding, then, is not simply a regional crisis. It is a recalibration of expectations.
The United States remains the most powerful actor in West Asia. But power is no longer measured only by the ability to project force. It is measured by the ability to shape outcomes without alienating partners. By that measure, the current moment is revealing clear limits.
The anger in the Gulf is unlikely to erupt into open rupture. Security ties with the United States remain deep and, in many cases, indispensable. But the psychological contract has weakened. Trust, once taken for granted, is now conditional.
That has long-term consequences.
Alliances endure not just on shared interests, but on confidence in judgement. When partners begin to believe that alignment brings exposure rather than protection, they do not necessarily break away - but they begin to look elsewhere, hedge quietly, and act independently.
The Strait of Hormuz crisis is, in that sense, more than a disruption of oil flows. It is a disruption of assumptions.
West Asia is entering a phase where American power is still central, but no longer sufficient; where partners are still aligned, but no longer assured; and where conflict does not consolidate order, but fragments it.
The United States is not being pushed out of the region. But it is no longer being followed unquestioningly.
That may prove to be the more consequential shift.
(The author is a retired IPS officer and an observer of geopolitical issues)