The fragile architecture of the Middle East, already buckling under decades of conflict, is now being shaken to its foundations by the reckless gamble of two men: Donald Trump and Benjamin Netanyahu. In the industrial towns of northern England, where the price of a loaf of bread and the security of a job matter more than the geopolitics of distant deserts, this crisis will hit home in ways that are only beginning to become apparent.
When the economic order fractures, working families feel it first. The cost of oil, the price of imported goods, the stability of the global financial system – these are not abstractions. They are the forces that determine whether a family can afford to heat their home, whether a factory can keep its doors open, whether a community can survive. The latest escalation in the Middle East threatens all of that.
President Donald Trump, with his unilateral withdrawal from the Iran nuclear deal and his recognition of Jerusalem as Israel's capital, has thrown a match into a powder keg. Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu, emboldened by this support, presses ahead with annexation plans that would permanently alter the landscape of the West Bank. Together, they are creating a permacrisis – a state of continuous, low-level war that wears down nations and peoples the way a slow recession wears down a household budget.
For workers in Britain, the connection is direct. When the Middle East boils over, energy prices spike. The price at the pump rises, and so does the cost of transporting goods. Supermarkets raise prices. Inflation eats away at wages that have barely moved in a decade. The Bank of England warns of the vulnerability of our economy to external shocks. But these shocks are not natural disasters. They are manufactured by political decisions taken in faraway capitals by men who do not feel the consequences.
Regional inequality will deepen. The South East, with its financial services and global connections, may absorb the blow. But the North, the Midlands, the coastal towns and former industrial heartlands – they will suffer. They always do. When the global order fractures, it is the weakest links that snap first.
The unions know this. The Trades Union Congress has long warned of the dangers of a foreign policy that prioritises military intervention over diplomatic engagement. They have called for a return to multilateralism, for a foreign policy that puts peace and stability first. But their voices are drowned out by the clamour of war drums.
There is an alternative. It is possible to stand up for the rights of Palestinians and Israelis alike, to oppose the illegal settlements and the occupation, while also recognising the right of Israel to exist in peace. It is possible to rejoin the Iran nuclear deal, to press for a two-state solution, to use economic leverage to push for peace rather than war. But that requires leaders with the courage to resist the temptation of short-term political gain.
The cost of this permacrisis is not just measured in missiles and casualties. It is measured in the silent suffering of families who cannot make ends meet, in the closed factories and boarded-up shops, in the slow erosion of hope. The Middle East order may be fracturing, but the fracture lines run all the way to our own homes. We ignore them at our peril.
