Photo via Khalid Al Kharusi, NOMADICT
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On February 27, 2026, Oman’s Foreign Minister, Badr bin Hamad Al Busaidi, appeared on CBS, expressing confidence that the United States and Iran would reach a peace deal. The next morning, the U.S. and Israel began launching air strikes against Iran. Al Busaidi wasted no time expressing his dismay, as he does not believe this will serve U.S. national interests, but, most importantly, global peace, or the many civilians who will suffer due to this decision.
“This is not your war.” – Badr bin Hamad Al Busaidi
7:04 am, February 28, 2026
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Given that Oman has hosted multiple rounds of U.S.-Iran nuclear talks in Muscat, its diplomatic pronouncement carries particular weight. Of all of the states to express disappointment with the U.S., Oman’s voice matters deeply. President Donald Trump made a grave misstep by undermining Oman’s stance when Al Busaidi issued a clear warning that this crusade was a mistake. Trump justifies his actions by stating that Iran is an imminent threat to the U.S. because of the region’s policies and future nuclear programs. Al Busaidi states that the Trump administration’s characterization of Iran as a grave threat is insufficient, and publicly reiterates that progress was indeed made in terms of nuclear decisions before the US-Israeli attack.
Oman’s position is not serious solely because of its recent role in hosting talks between the U.S. and Iran in April 2025. Oman’s global identity is rooted in the ethos of durable equanimity; a balanced international presence is ingrained through its tribal, religious, and trading history. Oman’s neutral stance in global affairs is not an attempt to be more likable in the global sphere; rather, it is selective and powerful, and it comes through brightly here, as today, Al Busaidi chooses to put the state’s credibility on the line to stand up for peace.
Oman’s global connectedness is commonly associated with its long history of trade across the Indian Ocean, given its ports on the Arabian Peninsula. That said, it is important not to fall into the trap of associating Oman’s global connectedness exclusively with a secular, cosmopolitan identity. Throughout its history, there were innumerable merchants and traders who built those Indian Ocean networks that were religious. If this were not so, the spread of Islam would not have happened through trade. Framing Oman’s openness as a “progressive” or secular virtue risks creating a false division, implicitly casting its religious and traditional character as somehow at odds with its worldliness.
This breakdown is necessary and intentional, as for years, British conquerors were the ones writing about Oman and reporting back to the European world. Although Britain’s relationship with Oman is long-standing, as evidenced by the Anglo-Omani Treaty, a defining moment in Britain’s influence, dating back to 1798, this does not mean there is, or ever was, an in-depth knowledge of the state. For example, Lieutenant Wellsted, in 1837, was the first European to set foot in the interior of Oman and write about it, despite Britain’s prior governmental and trade involvement. These transactional acquisitions preceded the attempt to understand Oman as a whole, or something beyond its material value. This must be taken into account when thinking through the Eurocentric understanding of Oman’s global decisions today.
One derivative effect of this essentialist perspective on Oman is the large misconception of a stark divide between a historically more secular exterior and a religious interior. While this distinction has some basis in Oman’s more recent history, it reflects only a narrow slice of a far longer and more complex story, one that the British observers of the 19th century were hardly positioned to tell in full. This narrative developed over the years and came to a head in the 1970s, when Sultan Qaboos Bin Said overthrew his father and sought to unify Muscat and Oman into a single nation: the Sultanate of Oman. In actuality, Oman’s past should not be dictated by this stringently divided story. Oman’s earlier history, especially during the Nabhani Dynasty (1154-1624), tells of Oman as a place that has always identified with overlapping and decentralized forms of authority, where Imams and Sultans shift, coexist, and influence one another, as well as with global interactions.
It is against this backdrop of overlapping authorities and global exchange that Britain’s informal presence in Oman must be understood, because colonization, even in its subtler forms, has a way of flattening complex histories into more legible narratives. Looking at colonization as a spectrum rather than a binary offers an analytical framework that honors the unique forms that impact each state differently. For instance, the Gulf States were not part of the Sykes-Picot Agreement, which carved Lebanon, Syria, Iraq, Jordan, and Palestine into spheres of British or French control with little regard for the communities they divided. The Syrian Civil War is a direct inheritance of this legacy, rooted in the political fractures left by French colonial rule, and it created the conditions from which movements like the Ba’ath Party emerged. States that experienced colonization in a more formal sense have well-documented colonial footprints and explicit ruptures to show for it. Conversely, states like Oman, despite a century of British informal presence, are conceptually lumped into the same post-colonial literature as the Levant, inheriting a narrative that was never theirs to begin with. This misattribution matters. Arab identity is vast, and the connections between informal colonization and identity formation remain largely unexplored. If scholars are willing to look, the case of Oman would be one to expand and complicate that conversation.
While there is something underexamined about how Oman was impacted by informal colonization, that can and should be analyzed within post-colonial discourse in its own right, not as an all-defining moment that strictly shapes its global identity today. However, what we do know is that Oman did not necessarily experience a stark moment in which society was made to feel that, if they did not change their identity to assimilate to Westernization, their dignity, autonomy, and history would be discarded. Not only can a sense of pride come from this, but also, there is the ability to physically hold onto history concisely and harbor an unwavering sense of societal morale. There is a unique strength here to be leveraged.
This strength was put to the test on March 11, 2026, when Iran began disrupting shipping in the Strait of Hormuz by attacking Oman’s Port of Salalah. One hundred thirty-six drones slammed into oil infrastructures, igniting massive fires and indefinitely suspending critical trade routes and operations. Even now, Al Busaidi continues to hold the door open for diplomacy. Its stance differs from that of other Gulf states, which have expressed varying levels of anger toward Tehran. Oman is known for taking its own path through quiet diplomacy, balance, and moderation compared to its neighbors, but this moment of direct provocation highlights its distinctive restraint.
Oman does not engage when it cannot be effective; it engages where its credibility, relationships, and historical positioning give it genuine agency. Now is one of those moments. Unlike other regional crises, in which Oman has deliberately maintained a lower profile, this is a moment when it has judged that its voice must be used. The ongoing war in Gaza and the question of Palestinian statehood convey the contrast well, as at the beginning of the Gaza War, Oman took a lower profile, pragmatic approach. Now, it rejects normalization with Israel, so much so that Al Busaidi will not enter the Board of Peace, as its charter does not mention the Palestinian territory. That said, Oman’s direct and public rejection of normalization with Israel does relate to where Iran stands in the conflict. Al Busaidi has been high-profile about his belief that Israel is at the center of the conflict, not Iran.
“Whatever your view of Iran, this war is not of their making.” – Badr bin Hamad Al Busaidi
7:05 AM, March 23, 2026
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Oman’s foreign policy approach is steady, unique, and internally cultivated through its historical and cultural architecture. This composure and commitment to principled assertion, amid bearing the brunt of this war, serve as a reminder that Oman is not a passive actor, but rather selective about when it asserts its political position. The Trump administration’s dismissal of Al Busaidi’s warning is reminiscent of how British observers in the 19th century engaged with Oman: transactionally and ignorantly. It is necessary that the international community take this as a learning opportunity and not undermine the disciplined coherence of Oman’s identity in the future, as it does not spend its credibility lightly. When it does, and the world fails to recognize what that signals, the cost is not Oman’s, it is everyone else’s.
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This article was edited by Abigail D’Angelo.
Yasmine L'Bahy 
Nora Lukavic 
Jorja Mulvihill