UAE

Forced to defend against thousands of Iranian drone and missile attacks before and after the ceasefire in the now-paused U.S.-Israel war on Iran, the United Arab Emirates (UAE) appears to have taken a play from Russia and its war with Ukraine in an attempt to secure some of its energy facilities with massive metal ‘cope cages.’

An image posted on X by Israel’s I24 News outlet shows what it claims is caging around oil tanks near Dubai International Airport. In the far-right section of the photo, what appears to be a more complete metal enclosure of some of the fuel tanks can be seen, while in the foreground, construction looks to be taking place on caging for additional tanks.

This seems to be the first sighting of these structures in the UAE and across the Gulf Arab nations. It is unclear when construction on the structures began or how many of these barriers the UAE is building or plans to build. We have reached out to the UAE Embassy in Washington for more details.

As we have reported in the past, the idea behind these kinds of metal structures is to mitigate the damage caused by incoming munitions by creating a barrier between the point of weapon impact and the target. The caging depicted is not designed to protect against Iranian ballistic missiles, and even cruise missiles could be a challenge. These kinds of structures are made to help defend against one-way attack munitions, such as the Shahed-136, many of which Iran has launched against the UAE. They can also protect from near-field small suicide drone attacks, although these have not been a major issue in the UAE during this conflict.

As noted earlier, while these structures may be new to the UAE, it is not the first time metal caging and even mesh nets have been used to protect critical energy infrastructure. Russia has employed these measures on its oil storage facilities in attempts to protect them from repeated Ukrainian drone attacks for a number of years now.

You can see some of those defensive measures in the following images and videos.

Russia Puts Cope Cages on Oil Storage Tanks

May 14 (UPI) — The U.K.’s Maritime Trade Operations said Thursday that a Honduran-flagged vessel was seized by Iran northeast of Fujairah, United Arab Emirates.

The Hui Chuan, described by UKMTO as a “floating armoury,” was in the Gulf of Oman when it was seized by Iranian forces. The vessel is moving toward Iranian waters.

UKMTO said in a statement that the seizure was reported about 38 nautical miles northeast of Fujairah.

“The CSO has reported that the vessel has been taken by unauthorized personnel [whilst] at anchor and is now bound for Iranian Territorial Waters,” UKMTO said in its report. “UKMTO continue to investigate.”

The vessel had been anchored in the Gulf of Oman for about a month. Its operators said it was storing weapons used to protect ships from pirate attacks.

The Hui Chuan is at least the second vessel to be attacked on the Gulf of Oman in as many days. On Wednesday, the Indian-flagged vessel Haji Ali sank off the coast of Oman after an explosion.

Security firm Vanguard said the explosion was believed to have been caused by a “drone or missile.”

Tensions in the Persian Gulf remain high during an uneasy ceasefire between the United States and Iran. The United States has imposed a naval blockade on the Strait of Hormuz, pursuing any vessels using Iranian ports. Iran has meanwhile threatened vessels traversing the strait since the United States and Israel launched strikes on Iran on Feb. 28.

Iran’s First Vice President Mohammad Reza Aref said Tehran’s ‘right’ to the Strait of Hormuz is ‘established and the matter is closed’, state media reports.

The ceasefire between the US and Iran has been in place for nearly four weeks. The Strait of Hormuz has not been at peace for a single day.

This week pushed that contradiction to its most dangerous point yet. The United States launched Project Freedom, a naval escort operation designed to guide roughly 2,000 ships stranded on either side of the Strait through to open water. Iran said any ship attempting passage without IRGC permission would be fired on. Within hours, both sides were claiming to have hit the other, the UAE was scrambling missile alerts for the first time since the ceasefire began, an oil refinery in Fujairah was on fire, and commercial aircraft bound for Dubai were turning around mid-air.

As of Tuesday evening, Trump announced Project Freedom would be paused “for a short period of time” to see if an agreement with Iran could be reached. Secretary of State Rubio told reporters the US was now in a “defensive” posture. Twenty-four hours earlier, both sides had been shooting and denying it simultaneously.

Here is what we know, what is contested, and what it means.

What Is Project Freedom and Why Did the US Launch It?

Trump announced the operation on Sunday, framing it in humanitarian terms, an effort to free the seafarers and cargo companies that had done nothing wrong and were caught between two governments fighting a war neither had formally ended. About 2,000 ships have been stranded on either side of the Strait since late February, unable to move without IRGC permission, which Iran began requiring and charging for after the ceasefire took effect.

The US had already begun a naval blockade of Iranian ports on April 13. Project Freedom was the next escalation — a direct challenge to Iran’s assertion that the Strait was now under its operational control. Trump described it as a “humanitarian gesture.” Iran described it as a violation of the ceasefire and an act of military aggression in a sensitive oil region that affects the economies of countries around the world.

Two American-flagged merchant ships successfully transited the Strait on Monday with US Navy escort. A Danish shipping company confirmed one of its vessels crossed with US military protection. But the transit did not go smoothly.

Did Iran Attack a US Warship? What the Claims Say

By Monday afternoon, the competing narratives had become almost impossible to untangle, which is itself part of the story.

Iran’s Fars News Agency reported a US warship had been hit by two Iranian drones after refusing to turn back from the Strait. CENTCOM denied any warship had been hit. US Admiral Brad Cooper said CENTCOM forces had sunk six IRGC vessels that tried to interfere with Project Freedom. Trump later said seven. Iran’s state broadcaster then reported that Tehran had launched an investigation and its preliminary conclusion was that the vessels the US claimed to have sunk were not IRGC boats at all, they were two small civilian craft carrying passengers from Oman to the Iranian coast, and five civilian passengers had been killed. The US has not commented on that claim and it has not been independently verified.

Why Iran Attacked the UAE in 2026: The Fujairah Strike Explained

The UAE’s Ministry of Defense said its air defenses engaged 15 ballistic missiles, three cruise missiles, and four drones launched from Iran on Monday, the first Iranian attacks on the UAE since the ceasefire took effect on April 8. One drone struck an oil refinery in Fujairah, wounding three Indian nationals and setting the facility ablaze. Four missile alerts were issued across the country, sending residents to shelter. Commercial aircraft bound for Dubai and Abu Dhabi turned around in mid-flight.

Iran’s position was that the Fujairah attack was not a premeditated strike on the UAE but a consequence of what it called US military adventurism in the Strait. An Iranian military official said the Islamic Republic had no preplanned programme to attack UAE facilities, and that what happened resulted from the US attempt to create an illegal passage through restricted waters. The UAE’s Foreign Ministry rejected that framing entirely, condemning what it called renewed terrorist and unprovoked Iranian attacks on civilian sites, and warning it reserves the full right to respond.

Why the Attack Claims Cannot Be Independently Verified

One detail worth noting is the shifting count of Iranian vessels supposedly sunk. Admiral Cooper said six. Trump said seven. No independent observer has confirmed either figure, and Iran has denied any IRGC boats were hit at all. This pattern: each side claiming damage inflicted while denying damage received, with no neutral verification , has run throughout the conflict and is not unique to this week’s exchange. What is different now is that the Strait is supposed to be under a ceasefire, and the exchanges are happening in a waterway where 2,000 civilian ships are anchored and waiting to see who wins the argument.

How the Hormuz Escalation Is Threatening Iran Ceasefire Talks in 2026

Trump’s decision to pause Project Freedom on Tuesday is significant precisely because of how quickly it followed the launch. The operation began Sunday. By Tuesday, with the UAE under attack, Iranian drones targeting ships in the Strait, and competing claims circulating with no resolution, the White House stepped back. Rubio reframed the entire mission as defensive rather than offensive, and a new UN Security Council resolution on freedom of navigation was announced, co-authored by Bahrain, Saudi Arabia, the UAE, Kuwait, and Qatar. A previous similar resolution was vetoed by China and Russia, and the outlook for this one is no clearer.

The pause does not resolve the underlying problem. The Strait remains contested. Iran still insists ships must seek IRGC permission and pay for transit. The US still insists the Strait is international water under international law. Two thousand ships are still stranded. And the ceasefire that is supposed to govern all of this is being tested in ways its text was never designed to handle.

The attacks this week did not happen in isolation from the negotiations still technically underway. Pakistan has been trying to bring the US and Iran back to a second round of talks after the Islamabad discussions collapsed on the nuclear question in April. Every exchange of fire, every competing claim, every missile alert in Abu Dhabi makes that second round harder to convene and harder to trust once convened.

As Shahram Akbarzadeh, a professor in Middle East and Central Asian politics at Deakin University, told Al Jazeera: “We see escalation after escalation against the backdrop of shuttle diplomacy. Such attacks, even if they are aimed to be contained, risk exploding into another major combat.” Neither the Americans nor the Iranians want a return to full-scale war, Akbarzadeh said, but neither is prepared to show weakness. “This dynamic has locked them in a perpetual conflict and in desperate need of a circuit breaker.”

The circuit breaker Pakistan offered in April produced a ceasefire. That ceasefire is now generating its own escalation cycle, in twenty-one miles of water, over a question neither side has answered: who controls the Strait of Hormuz, and on what terms does the world’s most important waterway reopen.

Two thousand ships are waiting for the answer.

The United Arab Emirates (UAE) on Tuesday said it came under attack from Iranian missiles and drones. The strikes come a day after the Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps (IRGC) launched attacks on the UAE as well as U.S. Navy vessels and the commercial ships in the Strait of Hormuz. The extent of the damage is unclear at the moment, as is whether U.S. assets came under fire today, though no indications have emerged that they have. We have reached out to CENTCOM for more details.

“The UAE’s air defenses are currently dealing with missile and drone attacks originating from Iran,” the UAE Defense Ministry stated on X. “The Ministry of Defense confirms that the sounds heard in scattered areas of the country are the result of the UAE’s air defense systems intercepting ballistic missiles, cruise missiles, and drones.”

Meanwhile, the IRGC issued a new threat against shipping in the Strait of Hormuz today.

“We warn all vessels intending to pass through the strait; the only safe route for crossing the Strait of Hormuz is the corridor previously announced by Iran and any deviation of vessels to other routes is unsafe and will face decisive action from the IRGC Navy.” the IRGC announced.

Yesterday, we reported that the U.S. Navy is urging strait transits to travel south of the Iranian corridor, along the cost of Oman.

The Navy’s suggested route “appears deep enough to accommodate the largest oil supertankers, but it’s very narrow, with several obstacles both north and south [of] the route (including shallow reefs),” Bloomberg News energy and commodities columnist Javier Blas noted on X.

Before this latest attack and new IRGC threat, U.S. War Secretary Pete Hegseth and Joint Chiefs Chairman Gen. Dan Caine both stated that Iran’s attacks on Monday, as well as other incidents during the ceasefire, still fall below the threshold of violating the agreement. Caine even went as far to say that “thus far, today is quieter” in the region.

As we reported yesterday, U.S. Army AH-64 Apache and U.S. Navy MH-60 Seahawk helicopters destroyed six small Iranian boats that were threatening commercial ships in and around the Strait of Hormuz and that Iran launched new attacks aimed at American warships, as well as merchant vessels on the first day of Project Freedom, the new operation to enable commercial ships to safely transit the Strait. 

“Since the ceasefire was announced, Iran has fired at commercial vessels nine times and seized two container ships, and they’ve attacked U.S. forces more than 10 times, all below the threshold of restarting major combat operations,” Caine told reporters, including from TWZ, at the Tuesday morning briefing. 

He added that “22,500 mariners embarked on more than 1,550 commercial vessels trapped in the Arabian Gulf, unable to transit.”

Caine was vague on the details of the attacks on U.S. forces.

“The threshold of restarting [the war] is a political decision above my pay grade,” he told reporters. “What I’ll say is it’s low harassing fire right now. It feels like Iran is grasping at straws to try to do something across the southern flank.”

The chairman did not elaborate further on the attacks on U.S. forces. We reached out to his office for more details. U.S. Central Command referred us to the Joint Chiefs.

“No, the ceasefire is not over,” Hegseth also posited. “Ultimately, [Project Freedom] is a separate and distinct project, and we expected there would be some churn at the beginning, which happened, and we said we would defend and defend aggressively, and we absolutely have.”

“Iran knows that, and ultimately, the president is going to make a decision whether anything were to escalate into a violation of a ceasefire,” the secretary added. “But certainly, we would urge Iran to be prudent in the actions that they take, to keep that underneath this threshold. This is about the straits. This is about freedom of navigation. This is about international waterways. This is about free flow of commerce, all the things that happened before and only Iran is contesting. So right now, the ceasefire certainly holds, but we’re going to be watching very, very closely.”’

Speaking to reporters at the White House, Trump offered scant details when asked what Iran has to do to violate the ceasefire.

“You’ll find out,” the president said.

Hegseth also addressed reports that the IRGC carried out yesterday’s attacks without permission from Iran’s civilian government officials.

Iran’s President Masoud Pezeshkian “has expressed strong anger at actions by the Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps, led by Ahmad Vahidi,” according to the Iran International media outlet. Pezeshkian described the missile and drone strikes on the UAE as “completely irresponsible” and carried out without the government’s knowledge or coordination,” the publication reported.

“There are some actions the IRGC takes sometimes that are outside the bounds of what maybe Iranian negotiators would like,” Hegseth explained. “That’s their job to rein that in and ultimately create a condition for a deal, right?

Hegseth also noted that Project Freedom was a temporary operation that the U.S. wants to soon hand over to others, saying foreign nations depend on the Strait more than the U.S.

After one of its ships was attacked yesterday by the IRGC, South Korea is reportedly mulling over joining Project Freedom.

“We are reviewing the US proposal about the Strait of Hormuz based on the principle, the military readiness posture on the Korean Peninsula and domestic laws,” South Korean officials said in a statement, according to CNN. “About Project Freedom, South Korea and the US have been closely communicating for safe use of key waterways including the Hormuz Strait.”

UPDATE: 7:04 PM EDT –

Tuesday evening, Trump announced Project Freedom will be placed on hold pending negotiations with Iran.

“Based on the request of Pakistan and other Countries, the tremendous Military Success that we have had during the Campaign against the Country of Iran and, additionally, the fact that Great Progress has been made toward a Complete and Final Agreement with Representatives of Iran, we have mutually agreed that, while the Blockade will remain in full force and effect, Project Freedom (The Movement of Ships through the Strait of Hormuz) will be paused for a short period of time to see whether or not the Agreement can be finalized and signed,” the president announced on Truth Social. 

The United Arab Emirates’ announcement of its withdrawal from OPEC and the OPEC+ alliance, effective May 1, 2026, represents a major strategic shift in the global energy market, with direct and significant implications for China, the world’s largest oil importer. The primary impact of this UAE withdrawal on China is the enhancement of Chinese energy security, as it will increase available supplies. The UAE will now be able to raise its production towards its target of 5 million barrels per day by 2027, without being bound by OPEC quotas. This expansion will provide China with a substantial and stable source of oil outside the constraints of production alliances. Furthermore, the UAE’s withdrawal from OPEC will impact China’s diversification policy, as China relies on imports to cover approximately 70% of its oil needs. The UAE’s departure will grant Beijing greater flexibility in purchasing from the spot market at potentially more competitive prices.

This also has a significant impact on import costs (prices) through prolonged downward pressure. The UAE’s increased oil production (up to 680,000 barrels per day above previous levels) is expected to put downward pressure on global Brent crude prices in the medium term (12-24 months), thus reducing China’s energy import bill. This could lead to short-term volatility, as, despite the potential benefit, the closure of the Strait of Hormuz (due to current regional tensions in April 2026) limits the immediate ability to capitalize on the UAE’s withdrawal from OPEC, since most of the UAE’s exports to China pass through this waterway.

China could benefit from the UAE’s withdrawal from OPEC by enhancing its capacity for financial and trade cooperation and expanding trade in local currencies, particularly the Chinese yuan. The UAE’s departure from OPEC could (facilitate the expansion of oil trade agreements) in rubles, rupees, and yuan, moving away from OPEC’s traditional dollar pricing. This aligns with China’s drive to internationalize the yuan. Such a move could boost joint investments, given China’s existing stakes in UAE oil concessions. With Abu Dhabi freed from restrictions, these Chinese investments could generate higher returns through increased production. Furthermore, China might leverage the UAE’s withdrawal from OPEC to bolster the strategic and geopolitical value of weakening OPEC’s influence. This withdrawal diminishes OPEC’s ability to control global supply, which benefits major consuming nations like China by reducing the likelihood of price shocks resulting from collective production cuts.

In this context, Chinese discussions and analyses have intensified, examining the potential benefits for China from the UAE’s withdrawal from OPEC. Chinese experts are analyzing the likelihood and impact of such a move should it materialize, particularly given the UAE’s increasing production capacity and its desire for greater flexibility. If we assume the UAE’s withdrawal from OPEC is indeed the case, China stands to be the biggest beneficiary for the following reasons. First, it would break the dominance of the petrodollar. The departure of a player the size of the UAE from traditional OPEC constraints opens the door wide to bilateral agreements for pricing oil in digital yuan (or Chinese yuan), thus supporting Beijing’s strategy of internationalizing the yuan to reduce its dependence on the Western financial system (SWIFT). In addition to the increased Chinese-Emirati supply, since Chinese companies such as CNPC and CNOOC hold stakes in oil concessions in Abu Dhabi, the UAE’s release from OPEC production quotas means these companies can increase production and secure China’s growing energy needs at preferential prices and with favorable terms. This facilitates the revitalization of joint UAE-China investments, allowing for deeper Chinese capital flow into the UAE’s refining and petrochemical sector. The exchange of finished goods and crude oil within an economic cycle based on local currencies reduces conversion costs and the risks associated with dollar fluctuations. This supports China’s policy of moving towards BRICS+. As the UAE is a member of the BRICS group, any move away from traditional OPEC frameworks aligns with the group’s overall direction to create a parallel financial system that supports the ruble, rupee, and yuan. This scenario, if it were to occur, would transform the relationship from one of buyer and seller to a comprehensive strategic partnership, making energy the driving force behind the new financial system that China seeks to lead.

Accordingly, the UAE’s withdrawal represents a strategic gain for China in terms of increased supply and potential cost reductions, but maximizing the benefit remains contingent on the stability of shipping lanes in the Arabian Gulf.

The withdrawal of the United Arab Emirates to abandon OPEC is far more than just a change in policy, but represents a change in the paradigm of worldwide energy governance. In a region that, already, has been influenced in oil market operations by geopolitical frictions, climate changes, and alliances, the UAE action begs an immediate question: is the era of shared oil control becoming one of autonomy of choice?

OPEC had been a mainstay of oil prices globally. Through the coordination of production quotas, the member states were trying to control supply and manipulate prices. Nevertheless, the emergence of non OPEC producers, especially the United States of America with its own shale revolution and the increasing influence of Russia could have calories undermined the power of OPEC. Responding, the organization became OPEC+, a more wide-ranging alliance that tried to reassert itself by coordinating more.

But with this change, new fault lines were also presented. OPEC+ is not a close bloc, but an adaptable arrangement anchored on overlapping, and indeed competing, interests. Its success largely relies on the collaboration of key actors such as the Saudi Arabia and Russia countries having different geopolitical interests. Such delicate equilibrium has rendered the sustainability of cohesion even more of a challenge.

It is here that the withdrawal of the UAE is noteworthy. Abu Dhabi has been rethinking its economic and strategic priorities. Although oil is still significant, UAE has been spending on renewable energy, international financial and logistics as well as technology. It has a long term vision of diversification and global competitiveness rather than oil dependency.

These goals might not have been consistent with staying within OPEC quota system. Designed to stabilize the prices, production limits may limit the capacity of a country to operate at capacity or flexibly respond to market opportunities. Like any exit, the UAE will have more flexibility in its output policy, which will enable it to harmonize the national economic objectives with energy policy.

This is indicative of a larger conflict over collective discipline and national sovereignty. The success of OPEC has been pegged on compliance with quotas by its members. But when the economic priorities move apart, they are more difficult to maintain. The UAE motion indicates that in some cases the advantages of independence can now surpass the benefits of action.

This is reflected in this concept of OPEC 2.0. The basic model is also more fluid and pragmatic compared to its predecessor, which was more or less a cohesive cartel. It is based on momentary agreements, but not the institutional unity. Although this flexibility maybe handy when dealing with a crisis in the short term, it also casts an element of stability in the long term.

Should other producers start to emulate the UAE, the effects may be far reaching. A disintegrated system can have difficulties in controlling supply even more resulting into a greater price volatility. The global markets would, in that case, not be fueled by coordinated policy but rather competition among the producers.

Simultaneously, the move that the UAE made should not be construed as a total denial of collaboration. Energy diplomacy is not going away but changing. Nations can move towards selective and form partnerships depending on similar interests as opposed to unbreakable unions. This would result in a more energetic yet unpredictable energy environment.

The decision is also representative of a larger trend in the Middle East geopolitically. States in the Gulf are claiming to be more independent economically and in the foreign policy. They havebbeen diversifying collaborations, looking into new spheres, and establishing themselves as international centres of commerce and innovation. Energy policy is evolving merely as a part of a broader strategic approach.

To people worldwide, the ramification is ambivalent. In the short run, on the one hand, a decrease in coordination among the producers may result in instability in the market and price variations. Conversely, over competition can lead to efficiency and speed up investment in alternative power sources. This might promote the movement of the world towards non fossil fuels in the long run.

Finally, the UAE withdrawal is a turning point. It highlights a transition into the flexible interestdriven strategies including strict institutional structures. There is a growing challenge of a more complicated and multipolar reality to the classical structure of oil governance with its emphasis on unity and joint control. The future of the global energy could probably not be characterized by one powerful protagonist, but a system of changing alliances and strategic choices. The adaptability in this new order can become important than unity. The UAE has decided to take that direction and their move might potentially determine the next chapter of energy politics across the world.

Chris Weafer, the CEO of Micro-Advisory Partners, says the UAE’s OPEC exit frees one million barrels of spare capacity. He warns Kazakhstan and Venezuela may follow, leaving OPEC far less influential on global oil pricing.

Fifty-nine years of membership, ended with a statement on a Tuesday and an effective date of Friday. The United Arab Emirates announced it will exit OPEC and OPEC+ on May 1, citing national interests, its evolving energy profile, and a long-term strategic vision that no longer aligns with the organization’s direction. The Energy Minister did not consult Saudi Arabia before making the announcement. He did not raise the issue with any other member country. He simply said the time had come. 

The timing tells the whole story. OPEC was preparing to meet in Vienna on Wednesday when the news landed. The Iran war had already wiped out 7.88 million barrels per day of OPEC’s production in March alone, resulting in the biggest supply collapse for the producers’ group in recent decades, surpassing even the 2020 Covid shock and the 1970s oil crisis. The UAE had been absorbing Iranian drone and missile attacks for weeks. The Strait of Hormuz, through which the UAE ships its own oil, has been functionally closed or severely restricted since early March. And sitting across the OPEC table was Iran, the country that had been targeting UAE infrastructure repeatedly, and Russia, which had been a steadfast partner to Iran throughout the conflict.

Walking out was not an impulsive decision. It was the logical conclusion of a calculation that had been building for years.

Why Abu Dhabi Was Already Done With OPEC 

The UAE’s frustration with OPEC production quotas is not new. The quotas have capped UAE output at around 3.2 million barrels per day, while the country has the ambition and the capacity to produce closer to 5 million barrels per day by 2027, suggesting production could almost double without OPEC’s constraints. For a country that has invested heavily in expanding ADNOC’s capacity and has the infrastructure to back it up, being told by a cartel committee how much it can produce has become an increasingly poor trade. 

The UAE’s sovereign wealth fund is so large that its economy is now more significantly tied to global economic growth than to the global price of oil. That shift in economic identity matters enormously for understanding why OPEC membership has become structurally uncomfortable. OPEC exists to keep oil prices elevated through production discipline. The UAE increasingly benefits from a growing global economy that demands more energy, more investment, and more trade, all of which are better served by producing at full capacity and building relationships with the countries that need what Abu Dhabi has to sell. 

An energy industry source familiar with the decision said the UAE felt it was “the right time to leave” and that “this decision is good for consumers and good for the world,” adding that the UAE would gradually increase production to supply global markets once freedom of navigation is restored in the Strait of Hormuz. The framing is deliberate. The UAE is not positioning itself as a cartel defector but as a responsible producer responding to a global energy emergency, which is a considerably more defensible diplomatic position. 

The Saudi Rupture Running Underneath It All

The official UAE statement was carefully worded, full of appreciation for “brothers and friends within the group” and “the highest respect for the Saudis for leading OPEC.” None of that diplomatic courtesy changes the underlying reality, which is that the UAE and Saudi Arabia have been on a collision course for some time and the OPEC exit is the most visible expression of that tension yet.

The two countries had joined a coalition to fight the Houthis in Yemen in 2015, but that coalition broke down into open recriminations in late December when Saudi Arabia bombed what it described as a weapons shipment bound for UAE-backed Yemeni separatists. That incident was the visible rupture of a relationship that had been quietly fraying for years over economic competition, differing visions for regional leadership, and diverging approaches to normalization, China, and the post-war order. Within OPEC, the two countries have clashed repeatedly over quota allocations, with the UAE consistently arguing it deserves a larger share based on its expanded capacity. 

The OPEC exit does not resolve any of those tensions. It sidesteps them entirely, which is probably the more elegant solution. By leaving, the UAE removes itself from a framework where Saudi Arabia holds dominant influence and gains the freedom to pursue its own production and partnership strategy without needing Riyadh’s agreement. That is a significant shift in the regional power dynamic, and it happened without a single confrontational statement.

What Remains of OPEC Now 

The UAE’s exit could prompt other members to follow suit, with analysts pointing to Kazakhstan as another significant producer that wants to grow beyond its current quota constraints. “If there is a time to leave, now is the time,” one Dubai-based energy consultant told CNN. 

The cartel’s power has always rested on a specific mechanism: spare production capacity held back from the market to stabilize prices. That spare capacity is concentrated almost entirely in the UAE, Saudi Arabia, and Kuwait, with the other nine member countries possessing little to none. Removing the UAE from that equation means OPEC’s effective spare capacity narrows considerably, and the burden of price stabilization falls almost entirely on Riyadh and Kuwait City. Saudi Arabia will hold an even greater share of the cartel’s remaining leverage, but leverage over a smaller and weaker institution is not the same as leverage over a healthy one.

OPEC has lost members before, but the UAE is a much larger producer than previous departures, and its absence may over time pose an existential risk to the cartel’s sustainability. The organization that has shaped global energy politics since 1960 is now facing its most significant structural test, and it is doing so while simultaneously dealing with a historic supply shock from the Iran war, a closed strait, and a global economy pricing in the possibility that the disruption is not temporary. 

The Geopolitical Implications

Freed from production quotas, the UAE’s most immediate strategic move is likely to deepen its relationship with the countries that need its oil most urgently, and China sits at the top of that list. More production could help the UAE improve ties with oil-importing partners such as China, and given the economic damage caused by the Iran war, the prospect of maximizing energy revenues now is undoubtedly attractive to Abu Dhabi. 

The UAE-US relationship also stands to benefit. With the UAE free to leverage its spare capacity in pursuit of its own strategic interests, the move will likely strengthen the UAE-US relationship, particularly in relation to managing the strategic petroleum reserve and responding to the ongoing Hormuz supply shock. Trump has been publicly critical of OPEC for years, accusing the cartel of exploiting American military protection to keep prices artificially high. An OPEC that is smaller and weaker, with a major member now operating independently and aligned with US interests, is a more congenial arrangement from Washington’s perspective. 

For the global energy market, the picture is more complicated. Once the Strait reopens fully and UAE production ramps up without quota constraints, additional supply should exert downward pressure on prices that have been elevated since February. Whether that actually happens depends on a sequence of events, including a durable Iran settlement and the restoration of free navigation through Hormuz, that are still very much in progress.

Our Take: A Geopolitical Move Dressed as an Energy Decision 

The UAE’s OPEC exit is not primarily an energy story. It is a geopolitical statement about where Abu Dhabi sees itself in the emerging regional order, and the answer is: outside the frameworks that no longer serve its interests, and free to build the bilateral relationships that do. The exit from OPEC follows the same strategic logic as the Abraham Accords, the Huawei contracts, the US base agreement, and the China infrastructure ties. The UAE has been running a multi-alignment strategy for years, positioning itself as indispensable to every major power simultaneously, and OPEC membership was becoming a constraint on that strategy rather than an asset.

What happens to OPEC matters for energy markets in the short term. What the UAE’s departure signals about the fracturing of Gulf institutional solidarity matters considerably more for the regional order that everyone in the Middle East is trying to rebuild in the aftermath of a war that nobody fully planned for and nobody has yet fully ended.

The deeper story is what the UAE’s exit reveals about the post-war Middle East taking shape right now. The institutions that governed the region’s energy politics, security arrangements, and diplomatic alignments for decades were built in a different world, one where the Cold War defined choices, where oil producers had unified interests, and where the US sat at the center of every meaningful regional framework. That world is gone. What the Iran war accelerated, and what the UAE’s OPEC exit makes structurally visible, is that the Gulf’s most capable states are no longer willing to subordinate their individual strategic interests to collective frameworks that were designed for a regional order that no longer exists. 

Abu Dhabi did not leave OPEC because of a quota dispute. It left because it has decided that in the world emerging from this war, the countries that move fastest, align most flexibly, and free themselves from inherited institutional constraints are the ones that will define what comes next. Whether that calculation proves correct depends on what the Islamabad talks produce, how quickly the Strait reopens, and whether the ceasefire holds long enough for the region to build something more durable than a pause. But the signal Abu Dhabi sent on Tuesday was unmistakable, and every government in the region heard it.

Oil markets face renewed instability following the United Arab Emirates’ formal exit from the Organisation of the Petroleum Exporting Countries (OPEC) and its wider alliance (OPEC+), announced on Tuesday and taking effect on Friday.

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The move, which ends decades of membership, comes as the global economy continues to reel from the ongoing war with Iran and the blockade of the Strait of Hormuz remains in place.

Investors are currently weighing the potential for higher future output from the UAE against the immediate and acute risks posed to global supply routes, as well as the increased chances that more countries drop out of OPEC and OPEC+.

Following the announcement, markets reacted swiftly as the potential for oversupply from the UAE was priced in. Oil prices fell by between 2% and 3%, particularly in futures contracts a couple of months ahead.

However, the move was just as quickly offset by the risk premium associated with the Middle East conflict and the current halt to US-Iran negotiations.

At the time of writing, US benchmark crude, WTI, is trading above $105 a barrel, while Brent crude, the international standard, is over $112. Both prices are around 4% higher on Wednesday from the UAE announcement low.

The UAE’s decision follows years of simmering tension between Abu Dhabi and Riyadh over production quotas. The UAE has invested over $150 billion (€128bn) in the state-owned Abu Dhabi National Oil Company (ADNOC) to expand its capacity to five million barrels per day.

However, under OPEC’s restrictive framework, much of this capacity remained underutilised, now prompting the government to prioritise its national interest.

The departure of the group’s third-largest producer is a significant blow to the cohesion of the 60-year-old organisation. Maurizio Carulli, global energy analyst at Quilter Cheviot, noted the limitations this exit places on the remaining members.

“Until tanker traffic through the Strait of Hormuz is safe again, OPEC’s ability to stabilise prices is sharply constrained, while US producers have gained outsized influence,” Carulli explained.

While the UAE has pledged to bring additional production to the market in a “gradual and measured” manner, the sudden lack of coordination within OPEC has introduced a new layer of uncertainty.

For the UAE, the blockade served as a final catalyst for its exit. With its primary export route under threat, Abu Dhabi has sought the diplomatic flexibility to forge independent security and trade partnerships outside the traditional cartel structure.

Despite the geopolitical turmoil, energy equities have remained resilient.

According to Carulli, “integrated majors such as BP, Shell, TotalEnergies, ENI, Chevron and ExxonMobil are benefitting from a price uplift that could add 5-10% to operating cash flow for every $10 increase in oil prices.”

Standoff over the Strait of Hormuz

In a separate but related development, the security situation in the Middle East remains precarious despite a fragile ceasefire. Iran has recently offered a ten-point proposal to reopen the Strait of Hormuz.

In exchange for restoring maritime traffic, Tehran is demanding a full withdrawal of the US naval blockade and an end to the current hostilities.

US President Donald Trump, who recently extended the two-week ceasefire mediated by Pakistan, described the latest Iranian offer as “much better” than previous iterations but still did not accept the terms.

Shortly after, Trump posted on social media claiming that Iran is in a dire and desperate condition with no leverage to negotiate.

Washington continues to insist on a permanent settlement regarding Iran’s nuclear programme and an “unconditional” reopening of the waterway before sanctions are lifted.

The impact of this blockade on global energy security cannot be overstated.

“The prolonged closure of the Strait of Hormuz has removed roughly 12% of global oil supply from the market, according to the IEA, a bigger disruption than the Yom Kippur war, the Iran‑Iraq conflict, the invasion of Kuwait or even the fallout from Ukraine,” Carulli highlighted.

The UAE’s decision to quit OPEC to prioritise its ‘national interests’ deals a blow to the oil group already grappling with the challenge of shipping Gulf exports through the Strait of Hormuz. Here’s what we know about why it’s withdrawing and the impact it might have.

The Gulf state is the latest to quit the group, which was created to form a united ⁠front on oil pricing.

The United Arab Emirates has announced its withdrawal from OPEC and the wider OPEC+ framework, removing a core pillar of one of the most influential groups in the energy world.

The Gulf country, with a capacity of approximately 4.8 million barrels per day and significant room to increase output, announced on Tuesday that it would quit the organisation to focus on “national interests”.

The move comes as the US-Israel war on Iran has sparked ⁠an historic energy shock.

Here’s a look the at the organisation’s history and role in the global economy:

When was OPEC established and why?

The Organization of the Petroleum Exporting Countries (OPEC) is a permanent, intergovernmental organisation based in Vienna, Austria, that has the objective of coordinating and unifying petroleum policies among member states.

It was originally created at the Baghdad Conference in September 1960 by five oil-producing founding states, Iran, Iraq, Kuwait, Saudi Arabia and Venezuela.

At that time, global oil markets were dominated by a group of powerful Western oil companies, known as the “Seven Sisters,” which controlled production and set prices.

The broader aim of the founding countries was to assert sovereignty over their natural resources and secure fair and stable prices for petroleum producers, as well as regular supplies to consuming nations.

OPEC currently has 12 members, including, aside from the UAE: Algeria, Republic of the Congo, Equatorial Guinea, Gabon, Iran, Iraq, Kuwait, Libya, Nigeria, Saudi Arabia, and Venezuela.

According to a statement issued on Tuesday, the UAE’s withdrawal will be effective on May 1, marking the exit of a member that had contributed to the organisation since 1967.

The organisation pursues price stability by setting agreed production quotas for the membership, which together controls about 30 percent of global supply.

Since 2016, OPEC has also cooperated with Russia, Azerbaijan, Kazakhstan, Bahrain, Brunei, Malaysia, Mexico, Oman, South Sudan, and Sudan through its OPEC+ framework, bringing its output to about 41 percent of global supply.

Why did the UAE leave OPEC and OPEC+?

Alongside Saudi Arabia, the UAE is one of the few OPEC members with meaningful spare capacity, which allows the organisation to respond to supply shocks.

However, nations with spare capacity may decide to cash out their reserves rather than use them to adjust the market.

The UAE’s assertive foreign policy approach has progressively isolated it from fellow OPEC members, especially Saudi Arabia, which disagrees with its positions on Yemen and elsewhere.

Abu Dhabi, meanwhile, has been carving out its own sphere of influence across the Middle East and Africa, and has doubled down on relations with the United States and Israel, with which it opened ties in the 2020 Abraham Accords.

It views relations with Israel as a critical lever for regional influence and a unique channel to Washington, especially after coming under attack ⁠during the Iran war.

The UAE is not the first country to leave the organisation. Others to have withdrawn in recent years include Indonesia, Qatar, Ecuador, Angola and Gabon, mainly due to disagreements over output quotas.

In recent years, the United Arab Emirates (UAE) has transformed itself into one of the most attractive destinations for entrepreneurs, startups, and international investors. What used to be primarily known as an oil-driven economy has now evolved into a diversified, innovation-focused business hub with strong global connections.

For anyone considering international expansion, relocation, or asset structuring, the UAE offers a combination of strategic advantages that are difficult to match elsewhere. From tax optimization to ease of doing business, the country continues to attract companies from Europe, Asia, and beyond.

Strategic Location and Global Connectivity

Business-Friendly Environment

If you’re exploring international expansion, understanding the process of company formation in uae is one of the first steps to unlocking these advantages.

Tax Efficiency and Financial Benefits

Free Zones vs Mainland: What Actually Matters

Reputation and Credibility

Banking and Financial Infrastructure

Scaling Opportunities

Cost Considerations

Long-Term Perspective

Final Thought

There is another way to read the ongoing Middle East crisis, one that makes legible what standard analysis consistently struggles to explain. It begins not with capability but with the geometry of the system through which capability must travel to produce effects. The United States and its partners possess overwhelming military superiority over Iran, and that superiority is not in question, yet the conflict has produced a pattern that defies its logic. A superpower coalition has been unable to impose coherent strategic outcomes against an adversary operating through proxies, low-cost disruption, and the systematic exploitation of global commercial vulnerabilities.

Over the past two years, we have seen multiple instances of this kind of disruption with consequential effects on the global system. Houthi drones force the rerouting of global shipping, with Red Sea cargo volumes falling by roughly 50% through early 2024 as major carriers diverted around the Cape of Good Hope, adding up to two weeks to transit times, driving freight costs sharply higher across European markets, and costing Egypt nearly $800 million per month at peak in lost Suez Canal revenue. A non-state network spanning Lebanon, Yemen, Iraq, Syria, and Gaza has absorbed sustained air campaigns, targeted eliminations of senior commanders, and repeated ground operations without losing its capacity to generate coordinated pressure across multiple theaters simultaneously. The asymmetry seems to follow a deliberate strategic logic that raw power analysis struggles to read, precisely because the conflict operates on a surface that capability assessments were never designed to map. What this suggests is that the decisive variable is not what actors possess but whether the relationships connecting them can transmit coordinated action when the system is under strain.

When that system cannot coordinate, something important breaks down. An alliance that formally exists but faces operational friction at every decision point ceases to be an alliance in any meaningful strategic sense. A security guarantee that cannot be transmitted rapidly to the partner it is meant to protect has, in effect, already failed its primary function. It follows that the gap between what a system formally is and what it can actually do under pressure is not a secondary consideration but the surface on which this conflict is being decided. Conventional analysis, calibrated to count warheads and assess intentions, consistently leaves this gap unmapped.

Analysts know that Saudi Arabia’s OPEC production decisions have repeatedly positioned Riyadh against Washington’s economic preferences, they know that European energy dependency complicates transatlantic alignment, and they know that Iran’s proxy network extends across five countries and absorbs military pressure without fracturing. Yet what the available frameworks cannot do is convert that knowledge into a structural reading of the system. They show that these conditions exist. What they cannot show is how those conditions interact, where they compound, and what the aggregate geometry of their interaction means for whether coordinated action is possible at all.

Power analysis was built to read capability differentials between states, and it does that well. Alliance theory was built to read the conditions under which formal commitments hold or fail, and it does that too. Neither, however, was built to read the operational weight of the ties through which capability and commitment must travel to produce effects.

The instruments available are calibrated to answer questions different from those the current situation poses. Deploying them on a problem they were not designed to read produces the consistent failure to explain what is actually happening that has marked analysis of this conflict from the start.

Adjacency mapping is an instrument designed to read that gap by mapping connectivity, by which I mean their operational weight, specifically their capacity to carry coordinated action under strain. What distinguishes it from standard approaches is its unit of analysis. Rather than the actors themselves, it treats the weight of the relationships as primary. The question it asks is not who holds power but whether the ties connecting power-holders can transmit that power when the system needs them to. Two states can be formally allied, operationally integrated in name, and structurally disconnected at the same time, and nothing in standard analysis will tell you which of those conditions is actually operative until the moment of crisis reveals it.

The instrument assigns each significant relationship in the system a weight between 0 and 1, reflecting how frequently the two actors interact operationally, how reliably information moves between them, how the tie has behaved under recent stress, and how quickly it transmits pressure when the system is under strain. At the higher end of the scale, a weight at or above 0.6 indicates that coordination approaches automaticity, and the tie carries load without constant investment to maintain it. Around 0.3, friction accumulates. In this setting, decisions require deliberate effort at every juncture, slowing the system and making it susceptible to gradual degradation that never triggers a visible rupture. At or below 0.2, the tie has effectively ceased to function as a transmission pathway, leaving the actors operationally disconnected regardless of what their formal relationship nominally says.

These weights are analytical judgements calibrated against observable evidence. In other words, their value lies in making visible what experienced analysts already carry as intuition and in giving that intuition a structure precise enough to argue about. The numbers are therefore analytical judgements, not measurements. A more rigorous application would derive them from quantifiable indicators across each dimension, including military interoperability, intelligence exchange depth, crisis responsiveness, economic interdependence, and signaling consistency, averaged and weighted systematically. That work lies beyond the scope of this piece, but the architecture is designed to accommodate it.

There is a risk management dimension to this reading that is worth making explicit. Standard geopolitical risk assessment focuses on actor-level variables such as regime stability, military capability, and leadership intentions. What adjacency mapping adds is a structural layer that those assessments typically miss. A coalition whose load-bearing relationships operate in the friction zone is exposed to a category of risk that capability assessments do not capture and that becomes visible only when the system is read structurally.

What the matrix adds is the ability to see how compound weakness across multiple relationships produces cascading effects that bilateral assessment alone would struggle to predict. A system whose dominant actor holds several weak partnerships faces more than friction. As a consequence, the geometry of those weaknesses determines whether any concerted response is structurally possible at all. Aggregate capability becomes, in that light, secondary to that question.

If we apply this to the Middle East security complex, the instrument produces one possible reading. This reading differs considerably from the picture conventional analysis generates. Its value is not in the precision of the numbers but in making the system’s geometry visible enough to argue about.

The matrix below maps operational connectivity across the system’s key actors. The numbers are analytical judgements, not measurements.

The geometry they make visible is what matters here.

The matrix is intentionally non-symmetric. Where operational influence flows asymmetrically between two actors, the weights reflect that directionality.

The matrix reveals, in this light, a system whose dominant actors are connected at fundamentally different weights. And more significantly, its most important bilateral relationship is operating in the friction zone. It’s formally excluded adversary has constructed the only alternative connectivity architecture in the system. What this implies is that the geometry of the conflict runs considerably deeper than standard alliance analysis tends to suggest.

On the coalition side, the US has high adjacency with Qatar, Bahrain, Israel, and Kuwait, ties that enable rapid coordination and require little maintenance, constituting the operational backbone of what Washington can actually activate quickly.

Its relationship with Saudi Arabia, however, sits at 0.4. That number is analytically more significant than almost anything else in the matrix. Saudi Arabia remains, on most readings, the relationship on which Gulf order coherence formally depends, the anchor of the security architecture since the 1970s, and it is operating in the friction zone where every significant decision requires renegotiation from scratch rather than flowing through an established channel. Saudi Arabia’s invitation to join BRICS in August 2023, yuan-denominated oil transactions with China, and its participation in the Chinese-brokered rapprochement with Iran in March 2023 all point in the same direction. Riyadh is hedging structurally toward China and the broader non-Western order, a posture that sits uneasily alongside its formal security alignment with Washington. Taken together, these are not isolated political episodes but evidence of a tie that has been operating below the coordination threshold for years and whose weakness is, on this reading, the system’s most consequential structural vulnerability.

Through the normalization architecture, the UAE has arguably become the system’s most structurally reliable node at 0.6 with both the US and Israel, its operational integration exceeding Saudi Arabia’s despite Saudi Arabia’s formal primacy. The Abraham Accords of September 2020 established the formal foundation for that integration. The operational depth it has since generated, across intelligence sharing, defence cooperation, and coordinated positioning on Iran, has made the UAE the coalition’s most functionally connected Gulf partner. Oman holds what is perhaps the system’s most anomalous position, meaningful adjacency with both the US coalition and Iran simultaneously, a profile no other state actor in the matrix replicates. That structural position gave Oman the back-channel role it played through the early phases of the conflict, with documented precedent in the secret US-Iran nuclear negotiations that began in Muscat in 2012 and ran through 2013. As the conflict has intensified, Pakistan has assumed the primary mediation function, but Oman’s position as a quiet facilitator has not disappeared; it has simply been supplemented by a node with more direct access to both capitals at this particular moment.

Pakistan has emerged as the conflict’s primary mediation node, hosting the highest-level direct negotiations between Washington and Tehran since 1979 and brokering the April 2026 ceasefire. That role reflects a structural position the matrix makes legible: high Saudi adjacency, a functioning Iran tie, and a rehabilitated relationship with Washington that no other regional actor currently combines. China’s influence over both Pakistani and Iranian decision-making operates as an exogenous pressure that the matrix only partially captures, and Pakistan’s own domestic constraints, including its difficulty developing direct channels with the IRGC, limit how far that mediation role can ultimately reach.

Iran’s position is where the matrix becomes most analytically revealing. Across the state actors in the system, Iran’s adjacency sits at or near fragmentation, built up through sanctions, absent operational channels, and decades of adversarial signalling that have left Tehran formally isolated from the coordination architecture the United States and its partners have constructed.

And yet the only high-weight tie Iran holds is with its proxy network at 0.7. That single number may go further toward explaining the architecture of the entire campaign than any other figure in the matrix.

It is an asymmetric relationship in which Tehran’s capacity to activate and direct exceeds the reverse influence those actors exert over Iranian strategic decisions. What that single structural condition implies goes further toward explaining the architecture of Iranian pressure operations than most analyses of Iranian intentions or capabilities tend to reach. Iran is geographically central and formally excluded. It is precisely that combination, positioned to apply pressure across every theatre while bearing none of the coordination costs that formal inclusion imposes. That, from this vantage point, is what makes legible a strategy that standard analysis, focused on actors and their capabilities, cannot see.

Seen through this lens, what Iran is doing across the region is something more structurally ambitious than a military campaign. It is attempting to restructure the matrix itself. The goal appears to be less about battlefield victory than about the gradual degradation of the ties connecting the United States to its regional partners, below the threshold at which coordinated response becomes automatic, eroding the will to keep paying the price of alignment while simultaneously building alternative adjacency in the nodes where US-aligned connectivity is weakest.

The Houthi campaign against Red Sea shipping is calibrated to stay below the threshold that would compel a unified military response. It introduces friction into the economic relationships connecting European states to the Gulf system, raising the cost of alignment with Washington’s regional posture without forcing the kind of direct confrontation that would unite the coalition. Strikes on Gulf infrastructure follow the same calibration, persistent enough to signal that the US security guarantee cannot insulate its partners from costs, yet restrained enough to avoid crossing the point at which coalition fragmentation becomes irrelevant because a unified response becomes compulsory. Across Iraq and Syria, simultaneous pressure from affiliated militias prevents the concentration of attention that sustained coalition coordination requires. In each case, the instrument targets a relationship rather than a capability, specifically the weight of the ties whose degradation would restructure the system’s geometry without requiring Iran to displace the existing order directly.

The US-Saudi tie at 0.4 is the primary focus of that degradation effort. Should that threshold be breached, Saudi Arabia hedges. As hedging reduces operational interactivity the tie weakens further. The process risks becoming self-reinforcing. Iranian military superiority over any individual partner is not required to sustain it.

The same logic extends across European actors, though not uniformly. Germany’s industrial exposure to energy price volatility, France’s residual strategic autonomy instinct, and the EU’s institutional preference for de-escalation all produce different thresholds for continued alignment with Washington. Their shared energy dependency gives them asymmetric stakes in the Gulf system’s stability, but their appetite for risk diverges from Washington’s in ways that are not identical across capitals, and each time Iran forces a decision about the cost of continued alignment, that divergence fragments the coalition’s coordination surface further.

By sustaining operational ties with non-state actors across the region, Iran is constructing alternative adjacency in precisely the nodes where US-aligned connectivity is weakest. These are populations and factions that the existing regional order has excluded from the dominant coalition’s coordination architecture. Deliberately so — Iran is building in the structural gaps the system leaves open. Displacing the existing order appears unnecessary. Becoming the more reliable pole of alignment for the actors that order has failed to integrate may be sufficient. All that is required is that the order fragment sufficiently at its margins for that offer to appear credible, and the current trajectory of US-Saudi friction and European hedging is steadily moving in that direction.

The coalition’s instruments are calibrated to military threats. The system, however, is failing along a different surface entirely, or so this reading suggests. The formal architecture remains largely intact, security guarantees have not been withdrawn, Gulf states remain formally aligned, and normalisation agreements hold. And yet the operational adjacency that gives that architecture its functional weight is under sustained pressure from an actor that has correctly identified the gap between formal commitment and operational tie as the system’s primary vulnerability. That identification is outpacing the coalition’s capacity to respond.

On this reading, the surface on which the conflict appears to be decided is not the one the coalition is defending.

What adjacency mapping reveals is a story about geometry. The system’s dominant actor holds formal commitments at weights the system cannot sustain under the pressure being applied to it. Its adversary, in turn, has built the only alternative coordination architecture in the space that those weakening ties leave open. The conflict is likely to be determined by which ties the system can no longer afford to lose under sustained and calibrated pressure. The question is whether the actors currently holding those ties in the friction zone can rebuild them to the coordination threshold before the process of degradation becomes irreversible. That is a question that capability assessments are not well-positioned to answer, and one that a structural reading of the system’s connectivity at least helps to make visible.

Former England midfielder Jonjo Shelvey has retired from playing and will take over as manager of third-tier United Arab Emirates side Arabian Falcons FC.

The 34-year-old had been playing for the Dubai club, who were formed in 2023, since September – alongside ex-Manchester United midfielder Ravel Morrison.

Former Crystal Palace midfielder Jason Puncheon is the club’s co-owner and head of football operations.

Shelvey, who played for Liverpool and Newcastle among others, made headlines earlier this season when he told BBC Sport: “I don’t want my children growing up in England any more.

“We’re very lucky that we lived in a nice part of the UK but where I’m from, originally, you can’t have nice things in my opinion.”

A documentary will follow Shelvey trying to lead Arabian Falcons to promotion in the final five games of the season.

He said: “My ambition is to climb to the very top of management and this is the perfect project to prove myself and what I’m capable of.”

Shelvey started his playing career at Charlton Athletic and played in the top flight for Liverpool, Swansea, Newcastle and Nottingham Forest.

He also featured for Blackpool, on loan, Turkish sides Caykur Rizespor and Eyupspor and briefly Burnley before moving to the UAE.

Shelvey won six caps for England, in 2012 and 2016 – all under Roy Hodgson.