In a Transitional Phase: A Different Middle East

• The Middle East is not returning to its old order, nor has a new one fully emerged; it is passing through a prolonged transitional phase.
• Gregory Gause correctly warns against confusing military victories with political transformation, but underestimates the depth of structural regional change.
• Regional Security Complex Theory offers a more convincing framework for understanding the ongoing reconfiguration of the Middle East.
• The region’s security geography is expanding, while regional middle powers—particularly Saudi Arabia, Turkey, Egypt, and Pakistan—are assuming increasingly influential roles.
• Patterns of alliance are becoming more flexible and multidimensional, replacing the rigid blocs that shaped previous decades.
• The United States remains the principal security actor, but within a more pluralistic regional order where China, Russia, and regional powers enjoy greater strategic autonomy.
• The Gaza war has fundamentally altered regional politics, weakened the logic of normalization without a Palestinian settlement, and reinforced the centrality of the Palestinian question.
• The future of the Middle East will be determined not by military outcomes alone, but by the struggle to define the region’s next political and security order.

Perhaps the most critical reading of American scholar F. Gregory Gause’s article, “The Old New Middle East,” begins with Antonio Gramsci’s famous observation: “The old world is dying, and the new world struggles to be born; now is the time of monsters.” The weakness in Gause’s argument does not lie in his observation that some elements of the regional order have endured, but rather in his premature assumption that the final shape of ongoing transformations has already emerged, even though their political and strategic consequences remain unsettled.

It is true that the wars that have swept the region since October 7, 2023 have not produced a stable regional order. They have neither resolved the Palestinian question, nor brought down the Iranian regime, nor eliminated the phenomenon of armed militias. Yet the fact that the new order has not fully emerged does not mean that the old one has returned. Likewise, the continued existence of certain states and actors does not imply that their relative positions, influence, and relationships remain unchanged. A more accurate assessment is that we are witnessing a different Middle East, even if its final contours have yet to crystallize.

Gause published his article in Foreign Affairs on July 30, 2026, as part of the September/October issue under the subtitle “Wars of Noise and Fury.” Published by the Council on Foreign Relations, Foreign Affairs is not a peer-reviewed academic journal in the conventional sense. Rather, it is one of the most influential platforms for strategic debate within the American foreign policy establishment, bringing together scholars, diplomats, former officials, and policymakers. Articles published there are therefore inseparable from broader debates over defining U.S. interests and shaping foreign policy. Gause himself is among America’s foremost scholars of Gulf politics and Middle Eastern international relations. His work has focused on Gulf security, regional alliances, regime politics, and the role of major powers, most notably in his book The International Relations of the Persian Gulf, which offers a realist interpretation of regional conflicts centered on states, balances of power, and regime security.

This intellectual background explains the perspective underlying his article. Gause does not belong to the school of thought that interprets every war as the immediate birth of a new regional order. Instead, he approaches the region through a realist lens emphasizing the enduring importance of states, national interests, and power balances, while cautioning against confusing military transformation with political transformation. He rightly observes that destroying military capabilities does not, by itself, create a regional order, nor does weakening an ally or a militia automatically produce a stable state or a sustainable political settlement.

The article begins with a striking paradox. The changes that have reshaped the Middle East since 2023 appear enormous: Iran and Israel have moved from a shadow war to direct confrontation; the United States joined Israel in military operations against Iran; Bashar al-Assad’s regime collapsed; Hamas and Hezbollah were significantly weakened; and conflict spread across the Gulf, Lebanon, and Syria.

Yet Gause argues that the region’s deeper structure remains largely intact. The Iranian-Israeli rivalry persists, the Palestinian issue remains unresolved, external powers continue competing within weak Arab states, and although the United States has been unable to impose a stable regional order, it remains too deeply engaged in the region to withdraw.

The strength of this argument lies in its refusal to be overwhelmed by the drama of war. Its weakness emerges, however, when the absence of a fully formed alternative order is treated as proof that the old order still survives. Here Gramsci’s formulation is more compelling than Gause’s own title: the old order is indeed dying, but the new one has yet to be born. Between decline and emergence lies a period of fluidity, during which regional boundaries, power distributions, alliance patterns, and relations with major powers are all being reshaped without yet reaching a stable equilibrium.

The second—and perhaps more important—observation is that reading these transformations through the lens of Barry Buzan and Ole Wæver’s Regional Security Complex Theory (RSCT) leads to conclusions quite different from Gause’s. This framework does not measure change solely by the disappearance or emergence of states. Rather, it examines the boundaries of the regional security complex, the distribution of power within it, patterns of amity and enmity, and its relationship with the major powers. Viewed from this perspective, many of the fundamental components of the Middle Eastern regional order have already changed—or are in the process of being fundamentally reconfigured.

The security geography of the Middle East is no longer confined to the Levant, the Gulf, Egypt, Iran, and Israel. Turkey has become a direct actor in the security dynamics of Syria, Iraq, the Eastern Mediterranean, and the Caucasus, no longer merely a state situated on the margins of the Arab system or a Western ally playing a limited regional role. Likewise, Pakistan has assumed growing importance in Gulf security through its relationships with Iran, Saudi Arabia, China, and the United States. Its demographic weight, military capabilities, and possession of nuclear weapons increasingly position it as a consequential actor in regional deterrence.

The region’s security geography has also expanded to encompass the Red Sea, the Horn of Africa, and the Bab al-Mandab Strait, where maritime routes, energy security, ports, and military bases have become deeply intertwined with the crises of the Gulf, Yemen, and the Levant. Consequently, the traditional boundaries separating the Middle East from South Asia and the Horn of Africa have become increasingly blurred. What is unfolding is not simply a redistribution of power within the region, but a redefinition of the region itself.

Another defining transformation is the rise of what may be called regional middle powers, most notably Saudi Arabia, Turkey, Egypt, and Pakistan. These states are not great powers in the traditional sense, yet they possess sufficient economic resources, strategic geography, demographic weight, military capability, and political legitimacy to exercise influence well beyond their national borders and to play an increasingly active role in shaping the regional agenda.

These middle powers do not operate within rigid alliance structures. Instead, they pursue flexible and overlapping roles. They remain allies of the United States in certain domains while simultaneously deepening partnerships with China or Russia in others. They may cooperate with Iran on one issue while competing with it on another. At the same time, they combine mediation, deterrence, investment, energy diplomacy, and, where necessary, military or political intervention.

Saudi Arabia seeks to convert its economic, energy, Arab, and Islamic weight into broader political influence over regional security arrangements, conflicts, and peace initiatives. Turkey combines military strength with geopolitical positioning and an active presence in Syria, Iraq, the Eastern Mediterranean, and the Caucasus, increasingly acting as an autonomous regional power rather than merely an extension of NATO strategy. Egypt, despite its economic constraints, continues to occupy a central position in the security of the Red Sea, the Eastern Mediterranean, the Palestinian question, and the broader Arab order, making any sustainable regional arrangement difficult to imagine without its participation. Pakistan, meanwhile, introduces an additional nuclear, military, and demographic dimension to the regional balance through its complex ties with Saudi Arabia, the Gulf states, Iran, and China.

This does not imply that these countries constitute a unified bloc or share a common strategic vision. Their significance lies instead in their ability to navigate multiple strategic arenas simultaneously—to balance cooperation and competition, maintain partnerships with major powers while preserving strategic autonomy, and adapt to changing geopolitical circumstances. Their growing prominence also reduces the ability of any single actor—whether the United States, Iran, or Israel—to unilaterally define the rules governing the regional order.

The central struggle, therefore, is no longer merely over the distribution of influence. It is increasingly about defining what constitutes regional power itself and determining which criteria qualify a state for regional leadership. Israel enjoys overwhelming military and technological superiority, yet faces mounting difficulty in translating these advantages into political legitimacy, regional acceptance, or durable stability. Iran retains extensive networks of influence and significant deterrent capabilities, yet has lost part of its strategic depth while confronting severe economic and domestic pressures.

At the same time, Saudi Arabia, Turkey, Egypt, and Pakistan are all seeking broader regional roles, each relying on different sources of power. This raises fundamental questions: Is regional leadership determined solely by military superiority? Or by economic capacity, demographic weight, and geography? Or rather by the ability to build alliances, mediate conflicts, shape regional agendas, and provide stability? These questions remain unresolved, underscoring that the Middle East is witnessing a contest over the very definition of regional leadership—not simply the restoration of a previous order.

The transformation is equally evident in changing patterns of alliance and conflict. Before October 7, the prevailing trajectory pointed toward the expansion of the Abraham Accords and the possibility of Saudi-Israeli normalization, alongside a broader process of de-escalation between the Gulf states and Iran. Today, however, Israel is increasingly perceived across much of the region as an independent source of instability rather than merely a potential partner in balancing Iran.

The war in Gaza, together with Israeli military operations in Qatar, Syria, and Lebanon, has weakened the assumption that integrating Israel into the regional order would automatically moderate its behavior. Gause himself acknowledges the declining momentum of the Abraham Accords and the growing skepticism among Gulf states regarding Israel’s commitment to the security of its neighbors. Yet he stops short of fully exploring the theoretical implications of this transformation.

Relations between the Gulf states and Iran have likewise become considerably more complex. They now rest simultaneously on deterrence and engagement, reflecting not only concerns about Iranian power but also fears of the instability that could follow the collapse of the Iranian state or the outbreak of a wider regional war. Regional alignments no longer fit neatly into stable blocs. Instead, they have evolved into flexible, multi-layered partnerships in which states may cooperate economically with one actor, compete with the same actor on security matters, and mediate alongside it in an entirely different crisis.

The region’s relationship with the great powers—an issue that occupies a central place in Buzan’s theoretical framework—is also undergoing profound change. Gause is correct in arguing that the Gulf states continue to rely on the American security umbrella. China has neither the ambition nor the capability, at least in the foreseeable future, to replace the United States as the region’s principal security guarantor. Russia likewise lacks the necessary military and economic capacity, while regional powers themselves remain unable to provide an equivalent alternative.

Nevertheless, continued American military predominance does not mean that the relationship between Washington and the Middle East remains unchanged. The United States is no longer capable of designing the regional order unilaterally or exercising effective control over all of its allies and adversaries. Regional states have become increasingly autonomous in their strategic choices and more inclined to diversify their international partnerships. China has emerged as a major economic partner and an increasingly important diplomatic mediator, while Russia continues to exploit geopolitical vacuums and regional conflicts to preserve its influence.

Consequently, regional states can no longer be neatly categorized as either American allies or opponents. A single country may depend on Washington for security, rely on Beijing for trade and investment, cooperate with Moscow in the energy sector, and simultaneously maintain political channels with Tehran. This does not signify the end of American influence. Rather, it marks a transition from a period of near-hegemonic dominance to one in which the United States remains the strongest external power operating within a far more pluralistic—and far less manageable—regional order.

Gause’s assessment of the consequences of the war with Iran also deserves closer scrutiny. He argues that Tehran emerged victorious because it survived the conflict, demonstrated its ability to threaten the Strait of Hormuz and global energy markets, and preserved the continuity of the regime. Yet equating survival with victory appears overstated.

Iran has lost its Syrian ally, suffered significant damage to its defensive infrastructure, witnessed the weakening of both Hezbollah and Hamas, and seen its economic and social crises deepen. The growing prominence of the Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps may indeed indicate the regime’s resilience, but it may equally reflect the shrinking of its political base and its increasing reliance on coercive power.

Iran has neither been defeated nor restored to its previous regional position. It may, however, have become more dangerous—not because it is necessarily stronger, but because it feels increasingly vulnerable and more convinced than ever that a credible nuclear deterrent represents the ultimate guarantee of regime survival. In this sense, the war may have weakened Iran’s capabilities while simultaneously strengthening its incentives to pursue a more uncompromising strategic posture.

Gause also offers an important criticism of Israel, arguing that although it has achieved significant military successes, it has failed to translate them into a stable political order. By rejecting any meaningful role for the Palestinian Authority in Gaza, weakening Palestinian institutions, expanding settlement activity, and obstructing state-building efforts in Lebanon and Syria, Israel has undermined the very political foundations required for lasting stability.

Yet Gause’s argument assumes that Netanyahu’s government squandered an opportunity to build peace. A more fundamental question, however, is whether political settlement and the emergence of strong Arab states were ever genuine objectives of the Israeli government in the first place. From the perspective of the Israeli right, a weak Palestinian Authority and a fragmented regional environment may not represent policy failures but rather elements of a broader security doctrine that regards the weakness of neighboring actors as an essential guarantee of Israel’s own security. In this sense, the absence of a coherent “day-after” strategy may not reflect the absence of a vision at all. Rather, it may express a deliberate strategy based on managing political vacuums and preventing the emergence of organized political forces capable of constraining Israeli freedom of action.

This approach, however, contains an inherent contradiction. Israel’s own peace treaties with Egypt and Jordan demonstrate that strong, cohesive states capable of exercising authority over their territories ultimately provide greater security than fragmented arenas dominated by militias and recurring cycles of violence. Israel’s dilemma, therefore, is that while it continues to achieve military victories, it simultaneously contributes to the creation of a political and social environment that is increasingly hostile and progressively less conducive to long-term stability.

One of the strongest elements of Gause’s analysis is his emphasis on the weakness of the Arab state. Weak states are unable to control their borders, monopolize the legitimate use of force, or prevent foreign intervention, thereby becoming arenas for external competition and proxy conflict. Yet state weakness cannot be understood solely as a domestic phenomenon. Iraq, Lebanon, Syria, and Palestine have all experienced wars, occupations, and repeated external interventions that have played a decisive role in producing—and perpetuating—that weakness.

Moreover, a strong state is not simply one that monopolizes coercive power. It is a legitimate political order built upon functioning institutions and a social contract capable of integrating diverse social groups into a shared national framework. The Middle East has repeatedly witnessed regimes that were powerful in security terms yet politically and socially fragile because their strength rested on protecting the regime rather than strengthening the state itself.

Nor can the Palestinian question be treated as merely one issue among many within the regional order. The Gaza war has reshaped Arab public opinion, weakened the momentum of normalization with Israel, deepened the crisis surrounding American Middle East policy, transformed Israel’s international image, and provided regional powers with new instruments of political mobilization.

Gause is right to conclude that genuine regional stability will remain impossible without recognizing the Palestinians’ right to self-determination. He is equally correct in acknowledging that Washington has been unwilling to employ its considerable leverage over Israel in pursuit of a meaningful political settlement. Yet the Palestinian issue is more than simply an obstacle to regional order. It is an integral component of that order’s legitimacy, its governing principles, and the very structure of its alliances.

The principal contribution of Gause’s article lies in its warning against confusing the spectacle of war with genuine political transformation. He rightly reminds us that military bombardment cannot construct a regional order and that weak states cannot sustain lasting peace. Its principal weakness, however, lies in treating the absence of a fully formed new order as evidence that the old one still endures.

By contrast, Regional Security Complex Theory suggests that many of the defining features of the regional system have already entered a period of profound transformation. The geographical boundaries of the Middle East are expanding. Regional middle powers—particularly Saudi Arabia, Turkey, Egypt, and Pakistan—are assuming broader and more diversified roles. The very definition of regional leadership has become contested. Patterns of alliance and rivalry are evolving, while the region’s relationship with the major powers has become increasingly complex and less dependent on any single external actor.

The new Middle East has not yet been born. But neither is the old Middle East capable of restoring itself.

The era of the shadow war between Iran and Israel has come to an end. The United States no longer possesses the ability to shape the region unilaterally. The assumption that Israel could be fully integrated into the regional order without resolving the Palestinian question has been fundamentally undermined. Meanwhile, new centers of power have emerged that refuse to align completely with any single global camp.

Gramsci’s famous observation therefore remains the most accurate description of the present moment: the old is dying, and the new cannot yet be born. What we are witnessing is not the restoration of a previous order but an intense struggle over the character of the next one—its boundaries, its leading powers, its alliance structures, its security architecture, and its relationship with the wider international system.

It is still too early to predict the final outcome of this transition. What is already clear, however, is that the Middle East has become fundamentally different. Its final shape remains uncertain, but it is no longer the region that existed before these wars. It has left behind an order that no longer functions, without yet entering one capable of providing stability. In the turbulent space between the decline of the old order and the uncertain birth of the new, wars multiply, roles are redefined, and competing powers struggle to secure their place in the emerging regional landscape.