The environmental costs of war: How the US–Israel–Iran conflict is reshaping climate security in the Gulf
The recent US–Israel war with Iran, followed by Iranian missile, drone, and rocket retaliation across the Gulf Cooperation Council (GCC) states, has largely been examined through military and geopolitical lenses: deterrence, escalation control, air defence, oil markets, and regional power balances. However, one of the most consequential dimensions of the conflict has received far less sustained attention, the environmental and climate-security impact of war.
This omission matters. Modern warfare does not only destroy military targets or endanger civilians. It also pollutes air and water, damages ecosystems, disrupts food and energy systems, generates enormous emissions, and weakens the resilience of societies already exposed to climate stress. In the Gulf and wider Middle East, among the hottest, driest, and most water-stressed regions in the world, the environmental effects of conflict can outlast ceasefires and become strategic risks in their own right.
The recent conflict demonstrates that climate security is no longer a secondary issue discussed after wars end. It is increasingly embedded in the conduct, costs, and legacy of war itself.
War emissions and the carbon footprint of conflict
Armed conflict carries a substantial carbon footprint. Fighter aircraft sorties, missile launches, naval deployments, emergency logistics chains, interceptor systems, reconstruction activity, and wartime industrial surges all consume energy and generate emissions. Recent reporting estimated that the first weeks of the conflict produced millions of tons of carbon-dioxide-equivalent emissions through combat operations, fires, and associated military activity.
Conflict emissions are generated not only by military operations but also by the destruction and reconstruction of civilian infrastructure. Damaged buildings, roads, utilities, hospitals, and housing all carry substantial embodied carbon costs when rebuilt. Cement, steel, transport, debris clearance, and replacement materials can leave a significant environmental footprint long after combat operations end.
This is rarely reflected in public debate. Military emissions globally remain undercounted or politically sensitive, even as many states publicly commit to sustainability targets. The Gulf states today host major renewable-energy projects, hydrogen ambitions, carbon-management initiatives, and climate diplomacy efforts. Yet conflict in the region can rapidly produce the opposite effect: higher fossil fuel consumption, emergency fuel burn, and reconstruction-intensive emissions.
War therefore creates a paradox of modern statecraft: governments may pursue climate leadership in peacetime while regional conflict swiftly erodes environmental gains.
Oil fires, industrial strikes, and toxic pollution
One of the clearest environmental dangers in any regional conflict is damage to hydrocarbon infrastructure. The Gulf is home to refineries, petrochemical complexes, storage terminals, pipelines, and offshore energy facilities concentrated near coastlines and urban centres. Missile or drone strikes against such sites risk fires, chemical leaks, and prolonged air pollution.
The region retains a strong historical memory of this danger. During the 1991 Gulf War, burning Kuwaiti oil wells released vast smoke plumes and toxins that affected air, soil, and public health for months. The recent Iran war revived concern that attacks on energy assets anywhere in the Gulf could produce localised environmental emergencies with cross-border consequences.
Even limited incidents matter. Fires at fuel depots or industrial zones release particulate matter, volatile organic compounds, sulfur compounds, and other pollutants. Urban populations downwind may face respiratory stress long after headlines move on. For highly urbanised Gulf societies where industrial and residential zones often coexist in close proximity, such incidents become both public-health and resilience concerns.
Maritime pollution and the Strait of Hormuz
No environmental-security discussion of this war is complete without the Strait of Hormuz, one of the world’s most important maritime chokepoints. Conflict-related mining, vessel seizures, drone attacks, sabotage, insurance disruptions, or accidental collisions all create ecological risks in addition to strategic ones.
A damaged tanker or struck cargo vessel could release oil or hazardous materials into Gulf waters. Because the Gulf is shallow and semi-enclosed, pollutants may persist longer than in open oceans. Marine contamination threatens fisheries, coral systems, mangroves, sea grass habitats, and coastal biodiversity.
This has direct relevance for GCC states because desalination underpins water security. If seawater near intake plants becomes contaminated by oil, chemicals, or debris, the result is not merely an environmental problem but a strategic one affecting households, hospitals, and industry.
The Strait therefore links maritime security, environmental security, and human security in unusually direct ways.
Damage to desalination, water, and urban systems
The Gulf’s reliance on desalination makes war uniquely consequential from a climate-security perspective. Many desalination plants are located near power stations, ports, and industrial hubs, sites often considered strategically sensitive during conflict.
Even without direct targeting, nearby blasts, debris, cyber disruption, power interruptions, or maritime contamination can complicate operations. Wartime supply chains for chemicals, membranes, spare parts, and technical servicing may also slow.
This matters because climate change is already intensifying heat stress and water demand across the region. A temporary disruption to desalination during peak summer conditions would coincide with maximum cooling demand and heightened health risks. Conflict thus does not create a separate crisis. It can magnify existing climate vulnerabilities.
The hidden loss: Ecosystems and recovery capacity
Environmental damage in war is often undercounted because it is less visible than battlefield losses. Degraded coastlines, stressed fisheries, polluted soils, damaged wetlands, and biodiversity decline may endure for years.
The Gulf already faces warming seas, coral bleaching, salinity stress, habitat fragmentation, and coastal development pressure. Additional wartime pollution can intensify these trends. Mangroves in the UAE, Saudi Arabia, and Oman are increasingly valued as carbon sinks and coastal buffers. Marine contamination or shoreline militarisation can weaken restoration gains.
Equally important is institutional strain. During conflict, states understandably prioritise civil defence, economic continuity, and national security. Environmental monitoring, conservation enforcement, and long-term remediation can become harder to sustain. This can create a quieter but lasting erosion of ecological governance.
A more integrated security perspective
The conflict has reinforced an increasingly important reality: environmental resilience is now part of national resilience. In the Gulf context, water production, clean coastlines, stable shipping lanes, healthy urban air quality, protected ecosystems, and energy continuity are not separate from security as they are components of it.
GCC states have in recent years invested significantly in infrastructure hardening, emergency preparedness, food-security strategies, renewable energy, and climate adaptation. The recent war highlighted the strategic value of these investments while also illustrating how modern conflict can test even advanced resilience systems.
This suggests that future regional security debates will likely place greater emphasis on compound risks, where military escalation, environmental stress, supply-chain disruption, and climate extremes interact simultaneously.
The US–Israel war with Iran and Tehran’s retaliation across the Gulf exposed how modern conflict can deepen environmental fragility in one of the world’s most climate-vulnerable regions.
Dr Kristian Alexander is a Senior Fellow and Lead Researcher at the Rabdan Security and Defense Institute (RSDI), Abu Dhabi, UAE.



