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It is a grave mistake to approach American and Israeli expansionism through the same lens, despite the apparent convergence of their projects at pivotal regional moments. Conflating them not only obscures the fundamental structural differences but also misleads us into understanding the nature of today's conflicts and the forms of control now exercised in the name of security, deterrence, or “stability.” Expansion, as a political-strategic concept, is not singular in its motives or tools, even when it leads to similar outcomes. What unites the United States and Israel today is not a unified project, but rather an overlap of interests and a shared set of tools, at a transitional moment in which the meaning of control and influence is being redefined. First: American Expansion… An Empire Without Maps Historically, American expansionism has not been geographical expansion in the classical sense of ancient empires or European colonialism. Since World War II, the United States has built its global influence on a different foundation: economic and commercial dominance as the core of power, and military force as a tool to protect this influence, not as an end in itself. Washington is not seeking territory to annex, nor flags to raise over the map. What it wants is: • Opening markets and integrating them into the American economy, • Protecting supply and energy routes, • Imposing the rules of the global financial system, • And controlling supply chains and technology. In this sense, American expansion is an expansion of economic space, not of maps. A country may be politically “independent,” but it is economically subservient, tied to the dollar, or dependent on international financial institutions, or reliant on the American market. Here, control is achieved without occupation, and influence without direct administration. Even American military intervention, when it occurs, is often presented as a means of ensuring this system: protecting allies, preventing market collapses, securing maritime routes, or containing forces that threaten global economic balances. Therefore, in recent years, Washington has tended to reduce direct military involvement without relinquishing influence, in a clear shift from “hard warfare” to “smart conflict management.” Second: Israeli Expansion… Land as Identity, Not as a Tool In contrast, the Israeli project is based on a radically different logic. Israeli expansion is ideological and historical, where land constitutes the core of the Zionist project, not merely a means. From the “Promised Land” to the doctrine of fluid borders, geography has remained an element of identity and survival, not simply a sphere of influence. In this context, expansion cannot be separated from Israel’s founding narrative, in which land is presented as: • a historical right, • a security guarantee, • a condition for the state’s existence and continuity. However, this logic, despite its ideological entrenchment, has clashed with political, demographic, and security realities that have made direct occupation more of a burden than an asset. Prolonged ground control has become costly on multiple levels: • Constant resistance drains the army, • Demographic burdens threaten the "Jewish character of the state," • Increasing international pressure deepens political isolation. Therefore, the Israeli project has not abandoned expansion, but rather redefined it. Third: From Occupation to Control… Expansion in its New Form In the current Israeli transformation, expansion is no longer synonymous with annexing or directly administering land. Today, expansion means controlling land without occupying it—that is, keeping it within the sphere of control, not within the state's borders. Here, air superiority and technological dominance emerge as modern tools of expansion. The skies have become the substitute for the land, and technology has replaced direct civil and military administration. This model is based on clear elements: • Open skies with no effective deterrent, • Intelligence and technological superiority that allows for constant surveillance, • The ability to strike whenever and wherever it chooses, • Imposing a diminished sense of sovereignty on adversaries. In this model, the land may not be officially occupied, but in practice, it lacks full sovereignty. Security decisions, freedom of movement, and even daily stability remain contingent on the will of the dominant power in the air. Fourth: Unity of tools… not unity of project Here, the American and Israeli logics converge, at least temporarily, not because the projects are identical, but because the tools of modern control have become shared. The United States, which manages its expansion through economics and markets, finds in this Israeli model a means of controlling the region without direct involvement. Washington does not object to Israeli air superiority as long as it: • Prevents a major regional conflagration, • Contains adversaries within certain limits, • Does not drag the United States into a full-scale war. Conversely, Israel benefits from this American cover to entrench its model of remote control, maintaining its deterrent capability without bearing the burdens of direct occupation. However, this convergence remains a convergence of interests, not a merging of projects. When American economic calculations clash with Israeli ideological impulses, the differences become clearly apparent, as seen in the limits of war, the timing of escalation, and the management of major crises. Fifth: Lebanon as a Model… Sovereignty Under the Sky This transformation is most clearly evident in the Lebanese case. Lebanon today is not an occupied state in the classical sense, but it is also not a fully sovereign state. The daily violations of its airspace and Israel's ability to conduct aerial and intelligence operations without real obstacles place the country at the heart of the new expansionist model. Here, there is no need to occupy the land: • The skies are sufficient, • Technology is sufficient, • And the distorted deterrence equation is sufficient to impose political and security realities. This is expansion in its contemporary form: no tanks on the borders, but control above them. No flags raised, only a sovereign decision suspended. Control at minimal cost… the most dangerous form of expansion. Ultimately, regional transformations cannot be understood without recognizing that expansion is no longer what it once was. That's it. Land is no longer a prerequisite for control, and occupation is no longer the sole form of domination. We are facing a phase where conflicts are managed with less blatant tools, but with deeper and more impactful ones. The United States manages its expansion through economics and trade, and Israel manages its expansion through air power and technology, but the shared objective is the same: control at the lowest cost and with the greatest influence. Herein lies the danger of the coming phase, because this type of expansion is less overt, more difficult to confront, and more capable of persisting… without being called by its true name.

Devastated by nearly a decade of civil war opposing the internationally recognized government to Iranian-backed Houthi rebels, Yemen is now facing a new fault line. A confrontation with southern separatists has upset the balance of the conflict and pitted two long-standing regional allies against each other: Saudi Arabia and the United Arab Emirates. Tensions escalated in early December when the Southern Transitional Council (STC), a separatist movement supported by the United Arab Emirates but officially a member of the anti-Houthi coalition, seized vast territories in eastern Yemen, gaining control of the Hadramout province and a large part of the neighboring Mahra province. On Tuesday, Saudi Arabia carried out an airstrike targeting the port of Mukalla in the east of the country. Riyadh publicly accused Abu Dhabi of adopting "extremely dangerous" behavior by supporting the separatists, stating that its national security constituted "a red line." Emirati forces subsequently withdrew from Yemen following a Saudi ultimatum. The STC aims to re-establish an independent state in southern Yemen, a region that formed the People's Democratic Republic of Yemen between 1967 and 1990, before its unification with the North. Hadramout, the country's largest province, covering nearly a third of the national territory, concentrates most of Yemen's oil fields, a key resource for public finances. The STC's advance allowed the movement to reach the Saudi border, in a region of historical and symbolic importance, from which several influential Saudi families originate. The Bin Ladens, Bakhachab, Al-Jafali, Al-Amoudi, and Al-Zamel all have "Hadrami" origins and own eponymous companies that play a major role in the Saudi economy. Damaged military vehicles, reportedly sent by the United Arab Emirates to support the separatist forces of the Southern Transitional Council (STC), following an airstrike carried out by the Saudi-led coalition in the port of Mukalla, southern Yemen, on December 30, 2025. (AFP Photo) While Riyadh states it prefers a stable and non-hostile Yemen on its southern border, Abu Dhabi's actions are part of a broader regional strategy. The United Arab Emirates seeks to strengthen its influence in the Red Sea and the Horn of Africa, relying on a network of allies in southern Yemen. Furthermore, for the past decade, Abu Dhabi has pursued an active foreign policy in the Middle East and Africa, particularly to counter movements linked to the Muslim Brotherhood, which are considered by Emirati authorities to be a threat to regional stability. The United Arab Emirates has notably become Egypt's main financial backer since the overthrow of Islamist President Mohamed Morsi in 2013. In Sudan, their support for the Rapid Support Forces (RSF), engaged in a war against the regular army, is an open secret. In Libya, Abu Dhabi supports Marshal Khalifa Haftar, who opposes the internationally recognized Government of National Accord. In 2020, the United Arab Emirates normalized its relations with Israel as part of the Abraham Accords, an initiative that Saudi Arabia refuses to join as long as there are no prospects for the creation of a Palestinian state. This normalization is part of a strategic convergence in the face of common adversaries, notably Iran and certain Islamist groups. Abu Dhabi has also strengthened its economic and security ties with Somaliland, a self-proclaimed independent territory of Somalia. The Dubai Ports World group has invested 442 million dollars in the port of Berbera, located on the Gulf of Aden. Last week, Israel became the first state to officially recognize Somaliland's independence, a decision that the Axios website attributes, citing Israeli officials, to mediation by the United Arab Emirates…

The proposal to create an economic zone in South Lebanon, mentioned in August 2025 by US envoy Tom Barrack, created a shockwave. The theory behind the project of a “Trump Economic Zone” assumes that such a zone would attract foreign investment, finance reconstruction, thus guaranteeing lasting security. However, several voices have been raised to warn against the danger of undermining the sovereignty of the Lebanese state through the creation of an Israeli-American “protectorate” in the border area. The project of a “Trump Economic Zone” is part of an approach adopted by the current US president to resolve conflicts through economic development and trade. This approach is one of the foundations of liberal thought in international relations. Indeed, the theory of “sweet commerce” is based on the idea that economic exchanges between states constitute a factor of political stability and peace. By forging lasting commercial ties, countries become interdependent, which reduces the incentive to resort to war. This theory was popularized in the 18th century by Montesquieu, “Commerce softens and polishes barbaric customs,” he wrote, emphasizing that economic exchanges transform power relations into cooperative relations. Trump proposed this idea for Gaza, through “Trump Riviera”, as well as in Ukraine, through the transformation of Donbass into a free zone that would benefit Russians as much as Ukrainians. Conditional logic According to Phillip Smyth, an American expert on the Middle East who worked at the Washington Institute and the Atlantic Council, the economic zone goes beyond the simple political framework and is based on an assumed conditional logic. Smyth emphasizes that its implementation requires a high level of organization, planning, and coordination on the ground, essential conditions to reduce risks and attract credible investors. For him, this requirement constitutes a factor of seriousness and viability and not a brake on development. Barrack indicated in August 2025 that Saudi Arabia and Qatar are ready to invest several billion dollars in the economic zone, a statement that was not commented on by those concerned. One thing is certain: these investments remain conditional on certain security guarantees, particularly the disarmament of Hezbollah. Some sources even mention potential investments of up to 10 billion dollars for infrastructure, industrial zones, and job-creating projects. However, these amounts remain to be confirmed by official commitments. According to Smyth, figures do not exist so far. These indications show a real interest in supporting the economic development of southern Lebanon and offering employment opportunities to local populations. Break with the logic of ad hoc aid Southern Lebanon, with a limited formal economic base, could benefit from significant multiplier effects: job creation, infrastructure development, stimulation of trade, and reduced dependence on external aid. The economic zone could thus initiate a dynamic of sustainable reconstruction and progressively restore economic confidence in this fragile region, Smyth affirms. It aims to transform a region long marked by armed conflicts into a structured space, capable of attracting regional and international capital. This initiative seeks to break with the logic of ad hoc aid to favor reconstruction based on long-term investments. The objective of this zone is to further integrate southern Lebanon into regional economic dynamics and to reduce the grip of political logics that have long dominated the local agenda. For Lebanon, the stakes are clear: seize this opportunity to undertake structured and sustainable reconstruction, or let internal blockages, accentuated by Hezbollah's opposition, deprive the south of the country of a development perspective likely, in the long term, to reshape its economic and security future. A state of economic destitution The depth of the Lebanese crisis gives a particular resonance to this project. Since 2019, Lebanon's GDP has contracted by approximately 40%, according to the World Bank. This fall is in addition to a depreciation of the Lebanese pound of more than 98% against the dollar, leading to hyperinflation and a massive loss of purchasing power. In 2022, 44% of the population lived below the poverty line, or nearly 2.6 million people out of a population of approximately 5.8 million. Overall unemployment was estimated at 11.5%, but it exceeds 23.6% among young people aged 15 to 24, particularly affecting the south of the country. This accumulation of financial losses, destruction of infrastructure, and withdrawal of public investment has severely hit this region, highlighting the urgency of structural economic prospects. Political test According to Smyth, Hezbollah's opposition could prevent the project from materializing. This blockage directly affects the region's economic attractiveness by increasing the cost of risk for potential investors. The zone is supposed to modify this equation, by introducing concrete economic interests capable of transforming stability into a shared advantage rather than an externally imposed constraint. The absence of a clearly affirmed Lebanese mandate is both a structural weakness and a revealing sign of the state's limits. Smyth notes that the project acts as a political test for the Lebanese authorities. More active state involvement could transform this external initiative into a national project, strengthen economic governance, and reassert institutional authority in a region largely dominated by parallel logics. Hezbollah's opposition therefore remains the main obstacle. Its armed presence and political weight make it difficult to secure the zone and deter foreign investment. The condition set by Gulf investors — reducing Hezbollah's military influence — underlines how much the project's success will depend on the evolution of the local balance of power and the pro-Iranian militia's willingness to adapt to an economic dynamic that could, in the long term, reduce its influence over the south of the country. Fears On the other side of the border, Israel benefits from the creation of this zone. By transforming the border region into an economic hub, the project could reduce tensions and Hezbollah's military presence and create opportunities for indirect cooperation. Even if the ceasefire monitoring mechanism committee has not yet thoroughly examined the project, these initial consultations suggest that the economic approach could open new channels of dialogue between Beirut and Tel Aviv. Several critical voices point to Israel's supposed desire to establish a security buffer zone, demilitarized and emptied of its inhabitants, on a model comparable to what it would seek to implement along its Syrian and Palestinian borders. Unconfirmed official information thus evokes the creation of large secure perimeters. In Lebanon, these prospects fuel fears of indirect demographic transfer, in which local populations would be progressively displaced in favor of externally managed economic activity. According to these same sources, the central concern lies in the risk that this mechanism would institutionalize lasting forced displacement, as the exodus continues since October 2023, in the absence of any clearly defined strategy for the return of displaced persons and the reconstruction of destroyed villages. For the moment, Trump's project is reduced to a simple declaration, official certainly, but vague and temporary. The importance given to Barrack's statements reflects the country's economic distress and, by the same token, evokes the traditional Lebanese expectation of aid from abroad.

Probably the most overused concept in Lebanon, freedom is nevertheless neither a luxury nor a slogan. It is our very condition of possibility—the discreet breath that has allowed this improbable country to stand upright between sea and mountains, between languages, rites, memories, and wounds. Without it, only a fractured territory of armed tribes remains. With it, Lebanon becomes a space—fragile, conflict-ridden, yet alive—where an attempt is still made to allow worlds that elsewhere turn their backs on one another to coexist. Today, that freedom is under threat. Everywhere. On one side, it is undermined by real or self-proclaimed “minorities” who, in the name of legitimate recognition, slide toward the outright negation of the other—toward cancel culture, the policing of words, works, and nuance. Emancipation then turns into a permanent tribunal, debate into an inquisition, criticism into blasphemy. On the other side, freedom is besieged by populisms, fundamentalisms, and authoritarian nationalisms bearing names such as Trump, Putin, Orbán, and their local avatars—cardboard strongmen who promise order and deliver only fear. The malady of our time is not merely the “rise of fascisms” and other self-loving “isms” so often denounced by Pope Francis, nor simply the “decline of morals.” It is dogmatism in all its forms. It is the claim by every camp to embody Truth, to seize the center, and to expel from political humanity all that does not resemble itself. Here, in the name of God, censorship, bans, and threats prevail. There, in the name of Progress, people are erased, “deplatformed,” reduced entirely to a single misstep. In both cases, the same gesture is at work: closing the shared space, banishing doubt, forbidding fruitful disagreement. Girardian mimicry in all its splendor—and decay. Lebanon is not immune to this plague; it is, in fact, a laboratory for it. We have known the Second Bureau, militias, Israeli and Syrian occupations, Iran’s long shadow, visible and invisible tutelage. We know all too well the security reflexes, the summons over a post, a joke, an opinion. We know what it means when a military tribunal claims the right to judge civilians, when security services raid a professor’s home as they would a criminal’s, when censors decide for everyone what may be seen, read, or heard. And yet none of these police regimes—not even the sprawling system of Syrian-Iranian tutelage—has ever fully taken root. Because this country, by its very composition, resists tyranny. It may endure it, adapt to it temporarily, negotiate with it out of fatigue or fear; but it always ends up cracking it, bypassing it, mocking it. Lebanon’s heterogeneity—religious, cultural, social—never allows itself to be fully enclosed within a single apparatus of domination. This is our curse, but also our chance. Contrary to the recurring fantasy of popular discourse—“we need an Atatürk or a Nasser to impose secularism,” “an MBS to fight corruption,” “an Assad to crush Islamism,” “a Sharaa to discipline minorities,” “a Bachir to secure a Christian reconquest,” “a general to put everyone in line”—Lebanon will never be saved by a strongman. Past experience has shown what our “strong presidents” and charismatic leaders produce: suspension of the Constitution, abolition of accountability, personality cults, and then total collapse—moral, institutional, urban. Lebanon’s problem is not the absence of leaders. It is the absence of citizens. For too long, we have confused political legitimacy with the cult of the za‘im, the sect, the flag. To borrow Weber’s terms, we have remained stuck between the traditional legitimacy of tribes and communities, and the charismatic legitimacy of “saviors”—pseudo-saints, generals, or warlords. We never completed the transition toward the only legitimacy that emancipates: rational-legal legitimacy, that of the state, the law, institutions, and shared responsibility. Freedom, however, is not an extra layer added once order has been restored. It is the starting point. It is ontological: it constitutes the person prior to any affiliation. This is what Spinoza expressed through the desire to persevere in one’s being; what Michel Chiha affirmed when he made the person and property the pillars of a Lebanon open to the world; what Benedict XVI recalled in Baabda when he insisted that human dignity presupposes free choices, “not under the effect of purely external constraint.” It is what Mohammad Mahdi Chamseddine, Samir Kassir, Gebran Tuéni, Ghassan Tuéni, Hani Fahs, Samir Frangié, Nasrallah Sfeir, Hassan Rifa‘i, and so many others repeated daily until their last breath. Without this primary freedom, there is no citizenship, no responsibility, no justice—only pack reflexes, primitive hordes, dogs and wolves. This is why censorship in Lebanon is more than an abuse: it is a betrayal of our vocation. Every time a group vetoes a concert, a film, a play, an article; every time a church, a party, or a militia brandishes the threat of the street to bend the state; every time an intelligence service summons a citizen over a word, a drawing, a sarcastic remark—another piece of the Lebanese soul is amputated. Fear is cultivated, self-censorship is produced, violence is prepared. Little by little, the very possibility of becoming a people of citizens is destroyed. The soul, the essential singularity of this country, is eroded. The choice before us, a century after the birth of Greater Lebanon, is simple, brutal, and irreducible: either we continue to dream of a Leviathan that will settle our disputes at the price of our freedoms, or we finally accept the risk of democracy. That risk is not anarchy. It is the demanding learning process of pluralism, separation of powers, oversight of security apparatuses, and the imposition of limits on every form of the sacred—religious or identitarian—whenever it seeks to become a censor. It is respect for the Constitution and the norms of jus cogens that frame it. Once again, Lebanon does not need a new enlightened despot. It needs men and women of state willing to burn themselves out in service rather than exploit office; judges who protect freedom as a norm, not as a tolerated exception; armed forces that see themselves as the last bastion of the Constitution, not as the armed wing of a regime or a clan. Above all, it needs citizens freed from voluntary servitude—refusing to delegate their thinking to a leader, a sect, or a foreign power. This requires overcoming fear of the other and trusting one another to build a shared future founded on a culture of connection. Memory and the past matter, but they cannot remain frozen; they move forward, and their role is to evolve, not to regress. In a world where walls are rising again, where algorithms lock each individual into a mental enclosure, where extremes feed off one another until moderates are crushed, Lebanon could still offer something other than ruins. It could become once more what it should never have ceased to be: a space for experimenting with freedom, a laboratory of coexistence, a risky wager on humanity’s capacity to extend a hand without denying itself. This is not a utopia—it is a daily act of will and life. But this wager will not be won through incantation. It requires concrete choices: abolishing prior censorship; removing all civilian cases from military courts; placing security services under genuine civilian oversight; educating, from school onward, in pluralism, doubt, and responsibility; protecting freedom of expression to the point of scandal—especially when it unsettles our religious, political, or moral certainties. Killing within ourselves servility and the cult of the leader. No one is perfect. No one is above criticism. Everyone is fallible, from cassock to camouflage. Freedom is not an intellectual whim. It is our last frontier before chaos. If Lebanon renounces what makes it singular—this impossible blend of pluralism and freedom—it will have nothing left to oppose the empires surrounding it or the dogmas inhabiting it. It will become just another parcel on the map of domination: trapped in the past like mosquitoes frozen in Jurassic amber, or the inhabitants petrified in the lava of Pompeii—remnants of history, dead yet still tangible, before dust eventually carries them away. Taking freedom seriously again means restoring a soul to the Republic—and perhaps giving our shared history a chance. That, ultimately, is our salvation—our true redemption.

The signing of a trilateral military cooperation plan between Israel, Greece, and Cyprus for 2026 marks a significant step in consolidating a security axis in the Eastern Mediterranean. Officially, the agreement, disclosed last Sunday by the Israeli army, provides for reinforced joint exercises, cross-training, and strategic military dialogue. But beyond its technical framework, it is part of a broader logic of collective deterrence, in a context of Turkey's rising military, diplomatic, and maritime power, particularly around exclusive economic zones, energy routes, and disputed airspaces. The project, discussed for several months, to establish a rapid reaction force - non-permanent but quickly deployable on land, at sea, and in the air - illustrates a major doctrinal evolution. It is no longer just about punctual or bilateral cooperations, but rather the progressive construction of a credible multinational operational capability. In a region marked by the war in Gaza, Syrian instability, persistent tensions in Lebanon, and competition over gas resources, this approach aims as much to prevent crises as to respond to them. Israeli Air Superiority In recent years, Turkey's actions have contributed to strengthening the shared sense of threat felt by Athens, Nicosia, and Tel Aviv: Repeated violations of airspace in the Aegean Sea, naval maneuvers in the Mediterranean, activism in Libya, and the desire to permanently anchor its influence in Syria have convinced these capitals that Ankara is testing regional limits. For Israel, the fear is that increased Turkish influence might eventually restrict its freedom of maneuver, particularly in Lebanese and Syrian airspaces. This trilateral dynamic is part of a broader regional framework, where energy security, freedom of navigation, and military projection are now closely intertwined. It also reflects a structural trend: the regionalization of security, as the direct involvement of major Western powers becomes more selective. At the same time, Turkey is multiplying initiatives aimed at consolidating its influence. Ankara is involved in the multinational force deployed in the Gaza Strip and is holding discussions with the two rival Libyan governments with a view to negotiating a new maritime agreement. Such a move could strengthen its dominant position in the maritime space of the Central and Eastern Mediterranean, to the detriment of its neighbors. The partnership between Israel, Greece, and Cyprus is not new. This military cooperation has developed continuously since Turkish President Recep Tayyip Erdogan came to power in 2003. As soon as Turkish airspace was closed to Israeli planes, Israeli air force pilots found a vast training ground in Greece. Joint exercises intensified, intelligence cooperation deepened, and in the early 2020s, this relationship became institutionalized through long-term defense agreements and significant arms contracts. In this context, the criticisms made by Turkish President Recep Tayyip Erdogan against the Israeli-Greek-Cypriot trilateral summit attest to the centrality of this strategic realignment. While reaffirming Ankara's support for Gaza, the Turkish head of state denounced any infringement of Turkey's "rights" in the Mediterranean.

The Gulf States have emerged and become rich, certainly, thanks to the exploitation of their resources, but they have carried out, through rapidly crossed stages, a true cybernetic conversion that amounts to a revolution in the proper sense. The era of soft power in which they engaged was achieved through reorientations, observations, transformations, and adaptations, thanks to which they became a regional power. They subsequently expanded their capabilities and developed their multi-service area of action, which conferred upon them a global status. But these states did not want to stop there. The dynamism that allowed them to achieve their sought-after goals did not stop at this stage. The will and energy that characterized all these existential transformations led them to board the train configuring a new world, that of networks, data, their processing and management: the world of flows, connectivity, and also of space. They are becoming important actors in the new globalization scheme; they are at the « smart power » stage. The United States is perceived as the protector in military and strategic terms. As for the rest: talk to everyone and intervene where their interests are perceived. Act in areas where they will increase their wealth, maintain their current status, in order to develop and strengthen their positions. This is why Saudi Arabia and the United Arab Emirates wanted to be accepted into the BRICS+ group; Kuwait and Bahrain have submitted their candidacies. Are the Gulf countries in question powerful? Are they all powerful together? Independently of one another? Another way to ask the question: do they have the means of power? It appears clear that their power is relative and selective. Referring to Raymond Aron's succinct but well-founded definition, the Gulf States are far from being powerful. But all together, and each partially and individually playing their part, they assert themselves as an indispensable focal point in many regional and global problems. Their wisdom in many difficult-to-solve issues, their know-how as mediators, their asserted and often very clear political and strategic positions place them above certain countries where it would be futile, illusory, to engage in negotiations. Economy, Finance, Diplomacy, Listening, Intra- and extra-regional positions, Entry into BRICS+, Modern and quality armaments dedicated to their own defense, Industrial-maritime and port development, Trade, Tourism, Global sporting, cultural, artistic events: the list of their advantages is long. It constitutes proof of the multiplicity of their assets, conferring upon them an international stature. Their power is not what one might expect from great countries, but it is progressing. The transition from hard power to soft power was an evolution. The transition to smart power is a revolution at the end of which no one is yet able to say how far it will go and who the winners will be. Let's consider these Gulf States. Their power is their importance in all these sectors of excellence. Their will is to be present where the world already counts on them, where they believe their place should be. NB: The importance of this subject prompted the organizers of the 4 th edition of the Mediterranean Strategic Meetings (RSMed 2025), a conference organized annually in Toulon (France) since 2022 by the Mediterranean Foundation for Strategic Studies (FMES), to dedicate a round table to it in the program of October 8 and 9, 2025. Read on the same topic: The Gulf States, from oil to power (1/3) The Gulf States, from regional to international (2/3)