Why is Iran attacking Muslim nations & fracturing the Ummah? Gulf restraint raises troubling questions

Why is Iran attacking fellow Muslim countries, and what does this mean for the unity of the Ummah it so often invokes? That question is reverberating across West Asia as Iranian missiles and drones rain down on Gulf cities in the aftermath of the killing of Ayatollah Ali Khamenei in coordinated US-Israeli airstrikes. Black plumes of smoke rising from commercial zones in the UAE and strategic oil infrastructure in Saudi Arabia mark a dramatic shift in a region that had, for decades, cultivated an image of stability despite underlying rivalries.

Bahrain, Qatar, Kuwait, Oman, the UAE and Saudi Arabia spent the last thirty years positioning themselves as islands of economic growth in a turbulent Middle East. Glittering skylines, luxury tourism, global finance hubs and energy corridors replaced the imagery of endless conflict. That perception has now been shaken. Iranian projectiles have not only targeted American military installations but have also struck civilian and industrial areas in Dubai, Abu Dhabi and parts of Saudi Arabia.

Yet, despite the scale and symbolism of these attacks, Arab states have not launched retaliatory strikes against Tehran. Their restraint raises complex political, military and theological questions.

The Trigger: Assassination and escalation

The crisis erupted after the killing of Khamenei, who was not only Iran’s Supreme Leader but also a towering figure in global Shia Islam. His assassination by US-Israeli strikes transformed what might have remained a limited confrontation into a regional flashpoint.

For Tehran, the strikes represented an attack not merely on the Iranian state but on an Islamic authority figure. Iran responded by launching missiles at Israel, US bases in the region, and Gulf nations hosting American forces. The UAE alone reportedly faced over 165 ballistic missiles, largely aimed at the strategically critical Al Dhafra Air Base.

The logic from Tehran’s perspective was clear: Gulf states hosting American military infrastructure were complicit, even if indirectly, in enabling US power projection.

But the counter-question persists: if Iran sees itself as a defender of the Muslim world, why are Muslim-majority cities bearing the brunt of its retaliation?

The dilemma of the Arab capitals

The Arab nations now face a strategic and symbolic dilemma. Militarily, several of them possess advanced air defence systems, modern air forces and substantial arsenals. Economically, they wield vast sovereign wealth. Politically, they maintain deep security partnerships with the United States.

Yet striking Iran would risk being seen as aligning openly with Washington and Israel, particularly sensitive after the assassination of a prominent Islamic leader.

Saudi Arabia, long considered Iran’s primary regional rival, illustrates the paradox. Despite Iranian strikes reportedly impacting its oil infrastructure, including Aramco facilities, Riyadh has exercised extreme caution. Crown Prince Mohammed bin Salman has reportedly authorised potential defensive action if attacks persist, but publicly the kingdom continues to call for diplomacy.

The restraint appears deliberate, not accidental.

Ummah above all but what about Shia-Sunni divide?

At the heart of this crisis lies the concept of the Muslim Ummah, the global community of Muslims transcending borders and sectarian lines. Rooted in the Quran, the Ummah has historically been invoked in moments of external threat, particularly during colonialism or conflicts involving non-Muslim powers.

However, the Shia-Sunni divide complicates this narrative. While most Arab Gulf states are Sunni-majority, Iran is a Shia theocracy. Sectarian tensions have defined much of the geopolitical rivalry between Riyadh and Tehran, particularly in Yemen, Syria and Lebanon.

Yet history shows that sectarian divisions have occasionally been set aside. When Ruhollah Khomeini, founder of the Islamic Republic of Iran, died in 1989, Sunni leaders such as Saddam Hussein expressed condolences despite recent war. Syria declared mourning. Lebanon followed suit. Even during the 1979 revolution, some Sunni groups initially supported Iran’s upheaval against Western influence.

Shared opposition to Israel has also periodically bridged sectarian divides. Protests over Gaza and solidarity movements have often united Shia and Sunni voices under a broader Islamic banner.

This historical precedent may partly explain why Gulf states hesitate to escalate against Iran, fearing backlash from Muslim populations who might view retaliation as betrayal.

The Israel factor and the Abraham Accords

The shadow of Israel looms large over the crisis. Since 1948, the Israeli-Palestinian conflict has served as a rallying point for Muslim solidarity. Actions by Israel are frequently framed as affronts to the broader Islamic world.

The signing of the Abraham Accords under US mediation saw the UAE and Bahrain normalise ties with Israel. Saudi Arabia had been considering similar steps before the Gaza conflict halted momentum.

Any overt Arab military action against Iran, particularly so soon after Khamenei’s killing in US-Israeli strikes, risks reinforcing narratives that Gulf monarchies are aligned with Israel against a fellow Muslim state.

For regimes that must manage domestic opinion and regional legitimacy, perception matters as much as firepower.

Following Iran’s strikes, a joint statement from the US, Bahrain, Jordan, Kuwait, Qatar, Saudi Arabia and the UAE condemned the attacks as reckless and escalatory. The Gulf Cooperation Council convened an emergency meeting, affirming the right to self-defence.

Saudi Arabia’s Foreign Ministry expressed strong condemnation and reserved the right to respond. Qatar called the attacks unacceptable. The UAE labelled them a flagrant violation of sovereignty.

Yet none have crossed the threshold into offensive retaliation.

Notably, many Gulf states had denied overflight rights for strikes on Iran and publicly emphasised diplomatic solutions prior to the escalation. Their posture reflects a balancing act: maintaining US security ties while avoiding direct entanglement in an Iran-Israel confrontation.

Fear of what?

Iran has reportedly issued warnings that any Arab regime striking its territory would see its leadership and palaces directly targeted. Whether official or amplified through unofficial channels, the message is unmistakable: escalation will be costly.

The Gulf monarchies are acutely aware of their geographic vulnerability. Oil facilities, desalination plants and financial hubs lie within missile range. The Strait of Hormuz lifeline of global energy markets could become a choke point.

Restraint, therefore, may be less about religious solidarity and more about strategic survival.

Iran has long portrayed itself as a champion of resistance against Western dominance. If attacked by Sunni Arab states, Tehran could frame the confrontation as evidence of “slavery to the West,” galvanising support among Muslim populations far beyond its borders.

The symbolism following Khamenei’s death reinforces this narrative. A red flag was reportedly raised atop the Jamkaran Mosque in Qom, a Shia symbol of martyrdom and vengeance.

For many Muslims globally, the assassination of a religious leader, irrespective of sect resonates emotionally. Arab governments must weigh the optics carefully.

What kind of Ummah is projected?

Yet the crisis also exposes a deeper contradiction. If the Ummah signifies unity and mutual protection, what does it mean when one Muslim state launches missiles at others, and those targeted choose silence?

What kind of Ummah is being projected where one actor claims the right to strike across borders in the name of resistance, while others absorb the blows without reply?

Is this solidarity, strategic patience, or enforced quietude?

The Gulf states’ restraint could be tactical waiting, calculating, preserving economic stability. But it also risks signalling asymmetry within the Islamic political order: one state asserting revolutionary authority, others constrained by alliances and vulnerabilities.

Three days into the crisis, the Middle East stands at a precarious crossroads. The Gulf states’ decision not to retaliate may reflect prudence in avoiding a wider war. It may also represent an attempt to prevent Iran from monopolising the narrative of Islamic resistance.

However, the longer missiles strike without reciprocal action, the more pressing the central question becomes.

If the Ummah is invoked to discourage confrontation among Muslim nations, why is it not invoked to prevent aggression in the first place? And if deterrence fails within that framework, does the concept still hold political weight?

For now, Gulf cities smoulder, oil markets tremble, and diplomatic channels remain open. The restraint of Arab capitals may avert immediate catastrophe. But it also underscores the fragile, often contradictory realities of unity in a region where geopolitics, sectarian identity and global alliances collide.

In this unfolding crisis, the Muslim Ummah is both invoked and tested, perhaps more severely than at any point in recent years.