Russia’s deepening entanglement in the crisis around Iran is delivering short-term geopolitical dividends, but at a potentially high strategic cost. What appears at first glance to be another opportunity for the Kremlin to profit from instability may instead become a test of whether Moscow can still balance opportunism with long-term statecraft in the Gulf.

The immediate attraction is clear enough. Any sustained confrontation involving Iran, the Gulf and the Strait of Hormuz tends to tighten global energy markets, lift oil prices and bolster revenues for commodity exporters. For Russia, still fighting an expensive war in Ukraine and dependent on hydrocarbon receipts, that offers an obvious windfall. But behind the headline gains lies a more uncomfortable reality: the very conflict that can enrich Moscow also threatens to unravel years of patient relationship-building across the Middle East.

Over the last three decades, the Kremlin has invested a lot of time into building ties with everyone in the Gulf. It sells itself as an “honest broker” and cultivated strong friendships with regional rivals including Israel, the Kingdom of Saudi Arabia (KSA) and Iran. For their part, the Gulf nations have found Moscow a useful intermediator between the regional powers and also a useful counterbalance to both the US and China.

The Kremlin’s modern regional strategy has changed and developed out of necessity since the 2022 invasion of Ukraine, when western sanctions forced Russia to look elsewhere for trade, finance and logistics. The Middle East rapidly became one of the most important theatres in that alternative world.

As Nikita Smagin, an expert on Iran, Islamism and Russia’s foreign policy, notes in a paper for Carnegie Endowment for International Peace: Turkey has consistently ranked among Russia’s top three trading partners since 2022, with turnover around $50bn; the UAE reached $12bn in 2025, entering Russia’s top ten commercial relationships; while trade with Egypt rose to $10.5bn. “These are not peripheral ties. They are pillars of Russia’s sanctions-era external economy,” says Smagin.

Iran was meant to be another pillar — and in some ways the most strategic of all.

Moscow had pinned significant hopes on the International North-South Transport Corridor, a route running through Iranian territory that would connect Russia to markets further south while reducing dependence on European and maritime chokepoints. More importantly, it offered an insurance policy if either Turkey or China came under western pressure to tighten sanctions enforcement.

Yet the scheme was always more ambitious than practical. The Eurasian Development Bank estimated the necessary infrastructure upgrades would cost $38bn by 2030. Rail links, roads, warehouses and ports all required substantial investment. Now war damage, internal unrest and repeated strikes have turned a difficult project into something closer to a fantasy.

The same applies to Moscow’s mooted Iranian gas hub. The concept was simple in theory: route Russian gas through Azerbaijan into Iran, then liquefy it and export it from the Gulf. In practice it depended on infrastructure Iran does not yet possess. Iran has no fully operational LNG export terminals, and with Gulf shipping under threat and Hormuz periodically in question, the plan now looks commercially threadbare.

Russian corporate exposure inside Iran is also mounting.

The Bushehr nuclear power station, built by Rosatom, has reportedly been struck at least four times during the present conflict. Russian personnel have largely been withdrawn. Other energy and industrial projects — including oilfield developments and the Sirik thermal power station — face effective suspension, whether from direct damage or basic operational risk.

This matters not only financially but politically. Moscow has long presented itself as a power able to protect its interests and allies in unstable regions. Yet Russian-linked facilities in Iran — including diplomatic sites, church property, Enzeli port and Bushehr — have reportedly been hit despite repeated Kremlin protests.

That suggests an uncomfortable truth: neither Washington nor Tel Aviv currently regards Russian objections as strategically constraining.

Faced with shrinking diplomatic relevance, Moscow appears to be reaching for the lever it still controls: military assistance.

Reports indicate Russia has begun supplying Geran strike drones, modernised variants of the Iranian-designed Shahed system, back to Tehran since March. If accurate, that would mark a notable escalation. Previous deliveries since 2022 — Yak-130 trainers, Mi-28 helicopters, Spartak armoured vehicles and small arms — were significant but less directly relevant to striking Israel or US-linked targets.

The drones are different. So too are reports that Russia is supplying targeting intelligence for Iranian missiles and drones.

The logic is not hard to understand. By helping Iran raise costs for its adversaries, Moscow could increase instability in the Gulf, gain leverage in future negotiations with Washington over Ukraine, and force itself back into the diplomatic equation. But the tactical gain carries a strategic cost.

Russia has spent years cultivating pragmatic ties with the Arab Gulf monarchies. Relations with Saudi Arabia have improved steadily through energy co-operation and broader diplomacy. Indeed, the two countries had recently agreed a visa-free regime starting in 2026. The UAE has become an indispensable commercial node. Qatar remains a serious regional player with global financial weight.

If Moscow is now seen as materially arming Tehran in a conflict that threatens Gulf security, those relationships become harder to manage.

That is the real dilemma. Iran is useful to Russia, but not indispensable. The Gulf states collectively matter more — economically, financially and strategically. As one stark comparison underlines, trade with the UAE alone is more than double Russia’s trade with Iran.

The Kremlin therefore faces a familiar imperial temptation: exploiting chaos for immediate advantage while underestimating the long-term costs of alignment.

A contained conflict around Iran may keep oil prices firm and western attention divided. But if Russia moves from opportunistic observer to active participant, it risks damaging ties with richer and more stable partners whose value far exceeds any temporary wartime dividend. For now, Moscow is trying to play both sides of the fence.