There are, broadly, three ways of looking at last week’s US and British military strikes on Houthi bases in Yemen: necessary, futile, dangerous. Yet, however the world views this action, taken in response to repeated, unprovoked attacks on international shipping in the Red Sea, the possible consequences are all the more alarming because they are unknowable and unpredictable. Joe Biden, the US president, and Rishi Sunak have started something they may find difficult to finish.
The US-British bombardment of dozens of targets, Succeeded by a limited “follow-on” attack a day later, was necessary in the sense that the Houthi leaders had rejected numerous pleas, public and private, to end their Red Sea mayhem. Ships and crews were at risk. There was real fear that anti-ship missiles could hit an oil tanker, causing an environmental disaster. The global economy faced supply disruption and spiking oil prices.
The Houthis say they are acting in solidarity with the besieged Palestinians of Gaza and will desist if Israel withdraws. Yet they are effectively holding a gun to the head of the international community – not a sensible or legal way to achieve their aims. “It’s clear that type of behaviour cannot carry on,” Sunak said after the event. Pleading self-defence, he said the strikes were “necessary, proportionate and targeted action against military targets to degrade and disrupt Houthi capability”.
On the face of it, it seems a reasonable argument. To do nothing, and allow the Houthi attacks to continue or intensify, with all the attendant risks, was not a realistic option. The basic problem, however, of which the US and British governments are doubtless aware, is that the military action taken so far may not prove wholly effective. The Houthis are used to being bombed. During Yemen’s civil war, they suffered relentless Saudi attacks.
The Houthis have vowed to retaliate. Indeed, limited retaliation has already begun.
This implies that the US and Britain, backed in non-combat capacities by the Netherlands, Australia, Canada and Bahrain but otherwise worryingly isolated internationally, are getting themselves into an open-ended shooting war they cannot win – and that their action is thus essentially futile. The Houthis’ pro-Palestine stance, though self-serving to a degree, is popular among Yemenis and the region, where Arab governments are criticised for not doing enough to halt the Gaza carnage.
Critically, the Houthis can count on unstinting support including, potentially, replacement weapons and missile supplies, from their main ally, Iran. And this, among many other reasons, is why this fast-moving crisis looks so very dangerous. So far, at least, Iran has avoided direct involvement in the rising violence on the Israel-Lebanon border, in Iraq and in Syria that followed the 7 October Hamas atrocities and Israel’s invasion of Gaza. This could change in a moment, by accident or design.
Tehran’s authoritarian theocratic regime, repressive and misogynistic at home, ambitious and aggressive abroad, believes itself on a roll. It is doing everything it can, short of war, to exploit Israel’s huge strategic, moral and PR blunders in Gaza. It coordinates ever more closely with China and Russia, not least over Ukraine. Its economy is reviving and its weapons-related nuclear enrichment programme is accelerating. Over-confidence could lead to over-reaching. Iran is a bigger menace than ever. Uncontrolled escalation, sparking a wider conflict, has been a constant fear since the Israel-Hamas war began. In the region, Turkey, Qatar and Oman have joined Iran in condemning the US-British action as inflammatory while others, such as the Saudis and Kuwait, wring their hands. European governments, predictably, are split. As during past Middle East interventions, France is notable by its absence from the fray. Germany just wishes it would all stop. China, typically, is using the crisis to criticise the US and advance claims to alternative global leadership.
Sunak, inexperienced in the ways of war, must tread very carefully. His decision to pull the trigger without consulting parliament was unfortunate, though perhaps unavoidable, given that Washington calls the shots. On Monday he must explain to the Commons what he thinks that this sudden plunge back into Middle East interventionism will achieve, how long it will last, and what the government will do if, for example (and heaven forbid), a Royal Navy ship is hit and casualties ensue.
Biden, too, has set a bomb ticking that could detonate under his 2024 re-election campaign. His big idea, on coming to office, was to disentangle the US from the Middle East and focus on China. He has already suffered one big regional humiliation, in Afghanistan. If Yemen becomes another “forever war”, if human costs rise, if it triggers a regional conflagration, Biden will be blamed by US voters concerned less about Palestinians and freedom of navigation than about rising inflation.
Unfair though it may be, the US and Britain, having previously failed to support a Gaza ceasefire, will from now on be viewed in the Muslim world as fighting on Israel’s side. The Houthis say they proudly fight for Palestine but are equally intent on boosting waning domestic political fortunes. Their attacks have done nothing to mitigate Gaza’s horrors. Whatever happens, Iran’s malign machinations will continue.
Is there a way out of what looks like a deadly trap? A halt to the daily bloodshed in Gaza, for which we have repeatedly called in this space, must be a starting point. It would not bring instant peace, calm the Red Sea, or resolve longstanding issues. But it would undoubtedly help defuse regional tensions that the US-British strikes have inevitably stoked.
