By: Abdullah Al-Omairah

The global press today reveals the scale of concern surrounding Saudi Arabia, the Strait of Hormuz, Bab al-Mandab, and oil prices, as reflected in the report “World Press Today | BETH Eyes.”

But concern is one thing, and assuming responsibility is another.

The question that is not being asked enough is:

Does the world want Saudi Arabia alone to protect the routes through which everyone’s interests pass?

Saudi Arabia is capable of protecting its territory, facilities, and interests. During the war, it has demonstrated that it possesses alternative energy routes, room for maneuver, and political, military, and economic tools that go beyond the limits of the crisis.

But:

Hormuz is not a Saudi strait.

Bab al-Mandab is not a Saudi route alone.

The Suez Canal is not a Saudi passage either.

And global energy security is not Riyadh’s responsibility alone.

If Europe fears rising prices, then it must bear its share of protecting supplies.

And if India, China, and other Asian economies depend on Gulf oil and trade, then the security of these routes is part of their national security as well.

And if Washington considers freedom of navigation a strategic American interest, it is not enough for it to watch Saudi Arabia bear the pressure on these passages and then ask:

What will Riyadh do?

The question should instead be asked in the opposite direction:

What will you do to protect your own interests?

The passages are international, the interests are international, and the bill for protecting them should not be Saudi.

Private agreements and alliances, such as the “Makkah Agreement,” have specific and declared objectives, limits, and obligations. Protecting international waterways, however, is a broader responsibility because it touches the interests of many countries and cannot be left to a single state or a limited alliance.

As for maneuvering and attempts to outsmart others in order to test what is on their minds, they will not produce any real gain; they will only consume time that would have been better invested in protecting interests and reinforcing stability.

Here, the practical question emerges:

How should protection be organized in the first place?

Through a unified international naval force?

By distributing areas of responsibility among the countries that benefit from these routes?

Or through multiple alliances whose roles overlap and leave gaps between them?

Then comes the more dangerous question:

Has Iran found its most important opening in the fragmentation of the protection system?

The more numerous the forces become, the more their rules of engagement differ, and the more responsibilities are divided among Hormuz, Bab al-Mandab, and the Red Sea, the more gray areas emerge for Tehran and its proxies to test and exploit.

The problem of the waterways may not be a lack of power, but rather its fragmentation; everyone is present, but no one is responsible for the whole picture.

And if this passivity turns into dependency, it does not merely leave a vacuum; it gives Iran room to magnify its influence and project a strength created in part by the weakness of international positions and the reluctance of states to shoulder their responsibilities.

Those who retreat from protecting their own interests have no right to be surprised when their adversary expands into the vacuum they left behind.

Nor should they be surprised if Saudi deterrence moves, through its various tools, to protect the Kingdom and eliminate the sources of threat; Saudi Arabia is not required to wait for others when its security and interests become targets.

And from a distance comes a more sensitive question:

Is the world fighting an adversary whose harm is clear — Iran — or are some capitals still more suspicious of the emergence of a new Islamic power through the “Makkah Agreement”?

The objectives are declared, and the agreement is defined.

But those accustomed to viewing every emerging Islamic power with suspicion may find themselves prisoners of a political memory shaped more by Islamophobia than by a realistic reading of interests.

And here lies the paradox:

Some capitals may become preoccupied with testing the power that the “Makkah Agreement” could create, while the power that is actually threatening the waterways is testing the world in plain sight.

This brings us back to the larger question:

Can the countries of the world protect their political, economic, and military interests against a single adversary while the tools of protection are scattered, decision-making is fragmented, and responsibility remains divided?

Riyadh is not a security company for international waterways.

Nor should Saudi Arabia’s location and weight become a pretext for burdening it alone with the cost of a war from which the entire world suffers.

Saudi Arabia will protect its interests, and that is something that requires no one’s permission.

As for those who want oil to keep flowing, trade to remain open, and markets to stay stable, they must show concern for their own interests through action, not through analysis, fragile statements, theatrical posturing, and empty bravado.

Every capital today writes about Saudi Arabia’s importance.

But Saudi Arabia’s importance does not mean that it must carry the responsibilities of others.

Whoever wants the passage open must take part in protecting it.

Whoever wants energy to remain stable must take part in the cost of that stability.

And whoever wants Saudi Arabia to remain a barrier against chaos must first stop treating it as though it alone is responsible for guarding the world.