From the Arabian Gulf to Ukraine: The Russian-Iranian Alliance and the West’s Geopolitical Double Vision in a World at War

From the Persian Gulf to Ukraine, the Russian-Iranian alliance—with China as a backdrop—is a powerful reality. Yet it remains underestimated on both sides of the Atlantic. This is due to the Trump administration’s worship of force and scale, and the fact that this alliance is not comparable to NATO. Nevertheless, it produces tactical effects with strategic implications.

Preoccupied with Operation Epic Fury, which has proved far more demanding than he had anticipated, Donald Trump lambasts NATO—that is, the United States’ European allies. He accuses them of a lack of enthusiasm for engaging in the liberation of the Strait of Hormuz, a major energy artery of the global economy. We will not contradict him on this point. On the other hand, Russia, which provides multifaceted aid to the Iranian Islamic regime, escapes the president’s wrath. Unfortunately, this is not surprising, but the truth compels us to say that some European leaders also remain discreet about the strength of the ties between Tehran and Moscow.

Should we view Donald Trump’s geopolitical double-dealing as a variation on “Nixon in reverse”? In addition to counterbalancing Xi Jinping’s China, Putin’s Russia could serve as a potential “honest broker” with Iran, capable of facilitating an agreement between Washington and Tehran, and thus offering a way out—a possibility mentioned occasionally. Unless the mere prospect of lucrative contracts with Russia—negotiated by Krill Dmitriev, head of a Russian sovereign wealth fund and Putin’s cash cow, and the siloviki who “own” Russia—with “special envoys” ” Steve Witkoff and Jared Kushner (embodiments of the “realism” of wealthy wheeler-dealers), outweighs all other considerations?

Generally speaking, Donald Trump’s mercantile approach is not conducive to the conception and execution of a grand strategy that would take into account the connections and repercussions between theaters of operations. The various components of U.S. foreign policy are reduced to a series of opportunistic, short-term “moves,” lacking a long-term, overarching vision. This is what the very term “deal” suggests. However, military engagement against Iran in alliance with Israel goes far beyond Donald Trump’s transactional policy. A line has been crossed.

Moreover, it is not certain that France and European countries are any more convinced of the reality of the Russian-Iranian alliance. Some prefer to speak of “partnership,” “collusion,” or “pragmatism,” as if these were merely episodic and superficial relations without strategic or geopolitical significance. Under the pretext that it is not equivalent to NATO, this alliance is said not to exist. The same applies, moreover, to the assessment of the Russian-Chinese alliance. In fact, these perceptions are not so far removed from those attributed to Donald Trump.

Beneath the surface of events, however, it appears that Russian-Iranian relations have steadily strengthened since the 1990s, ever since Primakov’s diplomacy emphasized the principle of “anti-hegemonic coalitions” with Tehran, as well as Beijing and other rebels against the world order. Political and ideological convergences, diplomatic maneuvers, and bilateral arms sales have been joined by major geo-economic projects spanning the Caucasus, the Caspian Sea, and the Persian Gulf, aimed at circumventing Western maritime hegemony—these projects are now being thwarted by the U.S. diplomatic breakthrough in the South Caucasus. This overall policy is based on the belief that the balance of power is shifting toward the East; “The sun rises in the East,” as Eurasianist commentators tell us.

Meeting between Russian President Vladimir Putin and Iranian President Massoud Pezeshkian on September 1, 2025, in Tianjin (China), on the sidelines of the Shanghai Cooperation Organization summit // kremlin.ru

The Russian-Iranian alliance came into full view when Moscow and Tehran coordinated a joint military intervention in the Syrian war, even as the highly flawed Iranian nuclear deal had not yet been finalized (summer 2015). While Western leaders speculated on the future of an Islamic regime converted to pluralism and open to the reign of commerce (the hypothetical positive evolution of the regime was supposed to compensate for the agreement’s imperfections), the Supreme Leader (the late Ali Khamenei) and the Iranian Revolutionary Guard Corps (IRGC) are strengthening their military arsenal, expanding their network of proxies (the “Shia arc”), and are building a “land bridge” across Syria and Lebanon between the Persian Gulf and the eastern Mediterranean, without in any way abandoning their nuclear infrastructure. In fact, Tehran had secured recognition of a so-called “right to enrich” uranium, even though this was excluded by the text of the Non-Proliferation Treaty and the United Nations resolutions condemning Iran’s nuclear program. Furthermore, most of the restrictive clauses of the 2015 agreement were set to expire between 2025 and 2030. An eternity, we were told! By then, the regime would have been transformed. Yet again, this vulgar version of the “soft power” thesis served as a geopolitical vade mecum (the thesis of Montesquieu and Benjamin Constant had more appeal).

For Moscow, Islamic Iran is an important ally situated on the southern flank of “Russia-Eurasia.” Their relations have grown closer with the large-scale invasion of Ukraine; it is known that the mass supply of Iranian Shahed drones to the Russian army bought the time needed to ramp up the military-industrial complex required for a long war of attrition. In return, Iran now benefits from the testing of the Shaheds on the Ukrainian battlefield and from the technical and tactical advances made by the Russian army. In Iran’s current war, the Iranian military and security forces are supported by Russian satellite intelligence—valuable for the precision of strikes—and are achieving what must be considered tactical successes, such as the destruction of the American radar aircraft at Prince Sultan Air Base in Saudi Arabia. This Russian support could be even more extensive than we are willing to admit.

So why such modesty in the choice of terms to describe and categorize reality? An alliance is an association of interests aimed at establishing a balance of power favorable to the achievement of an objective in a conflict environment. No more, no less. It is not a given that every alliance must be formalized and include a mutual defense clause (diplomatic and military history offers many examples of this). Certainly, Russian-Iranian relations are not underpinned by deep mutual affection. Far from being altruistic, sacrificial, or eternal, they are based on the perception of shared geopolitical interests. But isn’t that the way it goes?

One need only look at the extensive correspondence between Roosevelt and Churchill during World War II, even as the armies of these two countries fought side by side. More generally, we know that the close and genuine Anglo-American “special relationship” has never been free of acrimony or differences on certain geopolitical issues. We should also revisit the work of Albert Sorel (1842–1906) on the history of the various European coalitions that ultimately prevailed over the Napoleonic Empire1. The coalition partners did not maintain ideal or perfect relations on the political and military fronts.

Iranian drones. Photo: A. Krivonossov // voennoedelo.com

One should question this inability to identify reality, a possible consequence of minds being overwhelmed by the geopolitical situation. The fact remains that the Russian-Iranian alliance, with the People’s Republic of China in the background, and the interdependencies between the wars in Ukraine and Iran must be understood (Ukraine has understood this and is forging ties with Gulf regimes). The war in the Middle East highlights the significance of Iran’s arsenal (in hindsight, a demonstration of the regime’s intentions), while the blockade of the Strait of Hormuz threatens the global balance; Russia is counting on this “secondary front” to advance in Ukraine, a maneuver that Kyiv’s armed forces are thwarting by striking Russian oil and gas ports and refineries along the Baltic and Black Sea coasts, and even deep within “Russia-Eurasia.”

The only thing missing from the picture is a serious crisis involving Taiwan, with all its consequences in the Asia-Pacific region and around the world. But in this theater as well, we want to convince ourselves that the worst remains unlikely, as the Chinese Communist Party has other problems to resolve. The convenient reference to Sun Tzu (“Win Without Fighting”), a canonical author whose thinking is supposed to underpin China’s grand strategy, serves to reassure, which could contribute to the worst. We dread the moment when proponents of a French-style “Titoism” will explain to us that we must come to terms with Beijing. Perhaps after an agreement with Tehran? Even if it means recognizing a “right” (a toll) of passage through the Strait of Hormuz that would have to be paid? The IRGC are already inviting us to do so.

Let us calm ourselves: this is not a new world war, but a large part of the world is at war. In such a context, Western nations face the threat of geostrategic overextension. Against the headwinds, they must remain clear-headed and preserve what is essential: maintaining a minimum level of geopolitical unity and aligning their diplomatic and strategic approaches.

That is to say, not to invest in an illusory “coalition of middle powers,” which would not go beyond the stage of diplomatic maneuvers at the tactical level, but to avoid displaying transatlantic and intra-European disagreements, not to hinder one another, and to seek ways and means of a division of labor across the Old World. Indeed, we must fear that European unity would not survive a great schism in the West, at the peril of Ukraine, the Baltic States, Moldova, and Europe’s eastern borders, already breached in the Donbas and Crimea.

Let us not sacrifice what is the most important thing to the illusory role of co-patron of the “Global South,” with anti-Trumpism as our driving force.

Associate professor of history and geography and researcher at the French Institute of Geopolitics (University of Paris VIII). Author of several books, he works within the Thomas More Institute on geopolitical and defense issues in Europe. His research areas cover the Baltic-Black Sea region, post-Soviet Eurasia, and the Mediterranean.

Footnotes

  1. See Albert Sorel, Europe and the French Revolution, 8 volumes, 1885–1904