International media increasingly read the rising tension between the US and Iran not merely as a local escalation, but as a risk of the conflict spreading across the entire Middle East. South Korean commentators note that Washington is calling on allies to strengthen their maritime presence and speaks of neutrality, while at the same time raising concerns about drawing partners into security coalitions. Ukrainian publications, in turn, record sharp statements by Donald Trump about the “complete destruction” of Iran, the possibility of sanctions being reinstated, and claims about links between Russian and Iranian intelligence, portraying the US both as an escalator and as a key mediator in the region. Against this backdrop, protests against the war and fears of the conflict spreading underscore how thin the line has become between dialogue, threat, and real military action. Material prepared based on Ukrinform (Ukraine) materials.
The US–Iran war as an opportunity for Ukraine: a new view from Kyiv
A Ukrainian piece on Ukrinform (https://www.ukrinform.ua/rubric-world/4101532-dva-tizni-vijni-na-blizkomu-shodi-v-ukraini-zavilisa-novi-sansi.html) offers not so much a chronicle of escalation in the Middle East as an attempt to look at it through the eyes of a country that has been living under full-scale war for almost three years. The central question of the text: how the US–Iran confrontation, Israel’s involvement, nervous reactions in global markets, and the intensifying US–China rivalry affect Ukraine’s chances to defeat Russia and end its war on acceptable terms.
This view is deliberately subjective and pragmatic: almost every external storyline in the article is immediately “translated” into Ukrainian terms — politically and literally. The future of the Strait of Hormuz, changes in the sanctions regime, Trump’s diplomatic manoeuvres, China’s behavior, the stability of the Iranian regime — all are considered not as abstract geopolitical news but as elements of a larger formula: what accelerates and what slows the end of Russian aggression against Ukraine.
The authors’ and experts’ starting thesis is simple and ambitious: the current war in the Middle East is not only a risk of diverting the world’s attention from Ukraine, but also a “window of opportunity,” as stated in the headline of the piece: “в України з’явилися нові шанси” (“Ukraine has new chances”). These new chances include possible access to additional missiles and air-defense systems due to the redistribution of Western resources; the opportunity, for the first time since 2022, to act not only as a supplicant but as a security provider for other regions; and prospects to weaken Russia’s strategic rear by striking its partners in the authoritarian axis Beijing–Tehran–Moscow.
At the same time, the tone of the article is far from euphoric. Almost every identified opportunity is accompanied by caveats about risks: sending Ukrainian specialists and equipment to the Middle East could mean a potential weakening of Ukraine’s own air defense; rising oil prices and any loopholes in sanctions would provide Moscow with additional resources for the war; increased US pressure on Iran and China could also turn into pressure on Kyiv for the sake of a “quick peace.” Ukrainian readers are honestly warned: the balance of gains and losses will become clear only “after the next large raid of Russian drones and missiles.”
Structurally, the article is built around comments from two Ukrainian political scientists — Ihor Reiterovych and Artur Kharitonov — each offering his own perspective. Reiterovych focuses on the Middle Eastern and energy dimensions, explaining the immediate risks and opportunities presented by the US–Iran conflict. Kharitonov places this conflict within the broader equation of the global US–China confrontation, viewing Ukraine as one of the key, though not the only, fronts in the fight against a network of authoritarian regimes.
Reiterovych begins by assessing the immediate threats. In his words, “станом на зараз я не бачу великої кількості критичних ризиків саме для України” (“at present I do not see a large number of critical risks specifically for Ukraine”). The main area of concern is energy and oil. The article analyses in detail how a blockade of the Strait of Hormuz, price volatility, and possible “easing of sanctions” on Russian oil for particular buyers like India could theoretically give Moscow additional revenues. But the political scientist immediately tempers panicked expectations: Indian banks fear secondary sanctions and are not rushing into Russia’s embrace, and settlements in rupees are inconvenient for the Kremlin. Hence his conclusion: “the question of how much Moscow will actually be able to profit from this story remains open.”
A key, longer-term factor is the West’s continuing sanctions pressure on Russia. Reiterovych emphasizes that the US “does not intend to lift sanctions on the RF,” so talk of some breakthrough access for Moscow to global markets remains speculation. The real “benefit” for the Kremlin, in his assessment, lies elsewhere: the war in the region gives it the opportunity to restore some previous contacts with the US on a new agenda. In this context, the article mentions a conversation between Trump and Putin, a meeting of delegations in Florida, and a pause in the trilateral track involving Ukraine. However, an important caveat for the Ukrainian audience is made: so far the main topic of these contacts is the Middle East, not Ukraine, and experts do not see “any negative changes” in the White House’s policy toward Kyiv.
One of the most striking storylines in the text is Ukraine’s new role as a security donor. The piece describes sending Ukrainian specialists and air-defense technologies to the Middle East to counter Iranian kamikaze drones. Reiterovych calls this a qualitative turning point: “For the first time since the Great War, Ukraine can offer the world not a plea, but a service. Not ‘give us weapons,’ but ‘we will help you defend yourselves — and you will help us’.” For the domestic audience this is presented as a symbolic status change — from an exclusively dependent recipient of military aid to a partner capable of “selling” its combat experience and technologies.
The emphasis is placed on the pragmatism of Middle Eastern customers: they care less about grand statements than about concrete results. Ukraine, with its experience repelling massed strikes of Russian missiles and drones, can offer “specific drones, specific specialists, measurable effect.” Successful application of Ukrainian solutions in a new theater of operations, the expert believes, can “change the image in the region” and lay the foundation for a more systematic Ukrainian presence in the Middle East. This, in turn, leads to an important, if not immediate, dividend: an increase in the country’s political weight in the eyes of allies and partners.
Another aspect Reiterovych insists on is the reputational blow to the Russian military-industrial complex. Against the background of two weeks of intense combat, he notes: “no aircraft were shot down by Russian systems.” For the Ukrainian reader this continues the long-familiar narrative of “debunking the myth of the second-largest army in the world,” and for regional states it is a clear signal about the real capabilities of Russian weaponry. The practical uselessness of Russian air-defense systems in the current conflict, highlighted in the text, undermines their attractiveness on international markets and reduces Moscow’s geopolitical influence, especially in countries where arms purchases traditionally flowed through the Russian channel.
The article pays special attention to the energy dimension of the conflict, linking it to the interests of China and the US. Reiterovych reminds readers that China’s economy critically depends on uninterrupted maritime supplies of energy resources, including those that pass through the Strait of Hormuz. Even with close ties to Tehran, Beijing cannot force the Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps to lift the threat of a blockade. The ideal scenario for China is a rapid end to the conflict and the reopening of the key route.
However, the piece also considers another scenario: if the US, during a limited ground operation, gains control over strategic Iranian islands from which Hormuz is controlled, Washington would de facto become the main arbiter of tanker access to China. Such a turn, Reiterovych stresses, “strengthens the US” and weakens not only Iran but also Beijing, and consequently — indirectly — Moscow. For Ukraine this is an important factor: the fewer opportunities China has to maneuver in energy and support its autocratic allies, the weaker Russia’s strategic rear becomes.
The political scientist does not avoid assessing the domestic political dimension in the US. He sketches possible courses of action for a Trump administration — from continuing pinpoint strikes on Iranian targets and elite figures to a “limited ground operation” controlling Hormuz and Iran’s nuclear fuel reserves. In the Ukrainian perspective, a “successful Trump” who can present an impressive victory in the Middle East to the American public, on the one hand increases the chances of a tougher line on Russia, but on the other hand carries the risk that, for a quick final “big deal,” pressure will intensify not only on Moscow but also on Kyiv. The article clearly articulates a fear common in Ukrainian society about any “quick peace” that might be achieved at the cost of territorial or political concessions by Ukraine.
While Reiterovych concentrates on the Middle Eastern and transatlantic dimensions, Artur Kharitonov constructs an even broader frame. His key thesis: “everything happening in the world now is in one way or another connected to Ukraine.” In this view, Russia’s war against Ukraine, the US–Iran standoff, turbulence around Venezuela or Syria — are links in one large process: the global struggle between the US and China over the architecture of the 21st century. Ukraine, in this version, is not a marginal battlefield but one of the central fronts alongside the Middle East and the Western Hemisphere.
Kharitonov argues that despite “contradictory steps by Trump,” today’s America generally acts “on Ukraine’s side,” working systemically to “pull down certain ‘pillars’” of China’s network of authoritarian partners. Syria, Venezuela, Iran, Russia — all appear in the Ukrainian text as elements of one anti-Western configuration managed by Beijing or at least coordinated with it. That is why US struggles for influence in Caracas or for control over LNG flows are of fundamental importance to Ukraine: each Washington success in these distant regions reduces the resource and political buffer available to the Kremlin.
A separate section of the article is devoted to the raw-material dimension of the global confrontation. Kharitonov explains to the Ukrainian reader that control over Iranian resources and the US role in LNG supplies strengthen Washington as a key player in the global energy market. At the same time, the fall or serious weakening of Iran strikes at one of Beijing’s strategic trumps — access to rare-earth metals and energy resources through a network of friendly autocracies. The logic is simple: “The fewer levers of influence Xi Jinping retains, the harder it will be for China to indirectly support Russian aggression. And therefore, the sooner the war in Ukraine might end.”
Kharitonov devotes considerable attention to the China–Russia–Iran triangle as a long-term threat to Ukraine. The text describes the established system of military and technological cooperation, joint exercises, and logistics chains among these countries. He adds an important caveat: Beijing, in his assessment, understood Iran’s vulnerability and primarily relied on Russia and the DPRK as more “nuclearly protected” partners. In the Ukrainian discourse this serves as an additional argument against illusions about China’s “peacekeeping” role: Beijing, Kharitonov emphasizes, “never sought a quick end to our war” and “to some extent pushed Russia” toward aggression by supporting its resilience.
Regarding Iran’s future, Kharitonov outlines three main scenarios discussed in the article. The first — the fall of the regime and a deep shift in the regional balance of power — is acknowledged as unlikely in the short term. The second — a new status quo along the “Venezuelan scenario,” in which Tehran partially complies with US demands, softens its most aggressive foreign-policy actions, and gradually integrates into a changed system of constraints. The third — the preservation of the current weak but durable regime, capable of continuing destabilizing activity but with fewer resources and maneuverability.
For Ukraine, the text stresses, the most advantageous would be the first scenario, in which “the sooner the Iranian regime falls and the balance of power changes, the better.” However, experts admit it is more realistic to expect either the “Venezuelan” or an inertia-driven scenario. In both cases the key risk for Ukraine is spelled out clearly: if the US and its allies fail to achieve decisive strategic advantage, “the Russian war will continue,” because Moscow will retain channels for obtaining resources, technologies, and political support through the authoritarian network.
The article does not shy away from the complex topic of Ukraine’s perception in the Middle East. According to Kharitonov, historically many Arab states have seen Russia as a “friend,” partly due to the Soviet legacy and long-standing military-technical cooperation. Expecting a radical turn toward Kyiv in the short term, in his view, is unrealistic. Nevertheless, by providing partners in the region with air-defense technologies and frontline experience, Ukraine for the first time since the full-scale invasion appears as a “donor of security practices,” not only a recipient of aid. This does not automatically resolve the question of ending the war on its territory, but it opens new diplomatic and economic doors, including in other world regions.
Despite the geopolitical sweep of the analysis, the article constantly addresses the domestic Ukrainian reader. Several important messages can be read between the lines. First, sending specialists and weapons to the Middle East is politically risky but strategically justified, provided risks are managed competently and explained transparently to the public. Authorities, experts emphasize, should explain in advance the possible temporary weakening of domestic air defense in exchange for long-term gains such as increased international weight and additional arms deliveries.
Second, Ukrainian diplomacy must actively work to ensure that any future “big deals” over the Middle East and US–China–Russia relations are not made at Kyiv’s expense. The experience of 2019–2020, when Ukraine was drawn into American domestic politics, generated lasting skepticism toward “grand bargains” and toward Trump as a potential “great dealmaker.” This skepticism runs through every paragraph discussing possible breakthrough moves by Washington: the question is always — “who will pay the bill?”
Third, the article insists that Ukraine should maximize its agency. Unlike the familiar image of a “victim dependent on the will of great powers,” Kyiv is presented here as an active player capable of exporting military experience, reshaping its image, setting the agenda, and influencing alliance configurations. Strengthening Ukraine’s role as a security provider is an important element of this new subjectivity, as is its participation in the global struggle against authoritarian regimes tied to China.
A recurring motif of the publication is the linkage of the global and the local. Any storyline — be it a blockade of Hormuz, sanctions on Venezuela, control over LNG, or rare-earth metals — is translated into Ukrainian realities: what it means for Russia’s revenues, for China’s ability to support Moscow, for the price of a barrel, and ultimately for the duration and outcome of the war on the Dnipro. This approach reflects the “big-war optics” in which Ukraine now lives: the world is perceived as several interconnected fronts, and the outcome of each battle — in the Persian Gulf, the South China Sea, or Caracas — affects the trenches near Kherson or Kupiansk.
By nature the analysis published on Ukrinform (https://www.ukrinform.ua/rubric-world/4101532-dva-tizni-vijni-na-blizkomu-shodi-v-ukraini-zavilisa-novi-sansi.html) is far from a neutral news report. It is not a set of facts about missile strikes and losses, but a normative text with clearly stated preferred outcomes. A weakening or fall of the Iranian regime and a reduction of maneuvering space for China and its proxies are desirable. Scenarios in which Russia gains new financial and political resources due to energy turbulence or compromises over Iran are undesirable. Unacceptable are variants in which international pressure for a “quick end to the war” is concentrated primarily on Kyiv rather than Moscow.
The article concludes with a soberly Ukrainian summation. Ukraine’s reaction to the US–Iran war is not a panicked alarm about another hotspot of instability, but an attempt to incorporate that conflict into its own strategy of survival and victory. Kyiv seeks to use the situation to strengthen itself as a military, diplomatic, and technological actor, to further dismantle the myth of the power of Russian weaponry, to weaken Russia’s rear by striking the Beijing–Tehran–Moscow axis. And perhaps most importantly — to cement a new role for itself in the international system: not only as a recipient of aid, but as an exporter of security in a world where war has long since ceased to be confined to a single country or a single front.
