Afrasianet - Mohammed Al-Salheen Al-Houni - In the 14 weeks that the Strait of Hormuz was closed, Trump was not thinking about the Gulf, but about the price of American gasoline. And that's enough to accommodate everything.
America First...The Arabs used to say, "What scratches your skin is like your nail." The sentence is not just popular wisdom, but an entire political philosophy that sums up the experience of peoples: no one feels your pain as you do, no one carries your obsession as you do, and no one will scratch your skin carefully enough except your own nail.
This is not a poetic metaphor, but a realistic depiction of what self-will, independent decision, and the ability built by its owners mean. Those who rely on someone else's nails may get some relief, but they will not cure the itching.
In mid-March 2026, as the Strait of Hormuz was entering its fourth day of closure and Iran threatening every ship trying to cross, Trump wrote on his platform "We don't need the region's oil, and maybe we shouldn't be there in the first place." He then demanded that China, France, Japan, and South Korea send their ships to protect the passage.
The countries mentioned refused. The sentence has remained etched in the record of what is said when American pragmatism clashes with the Gulf interest.
The days following February 28 revealed clearly and inexplicably what the American priority was. The memorandum of understanding that Trump reached with Iran was based mainly on the opening of the Strait of Hormuz, through which "oil will flow from both sides of the region," as he put it. The American interest that moved Trump toward the agreement was not the security of the Gulf, but rather the price of fuel and its impact on the American voter.
When Trump said, "Maybe we shouldn't be there," he was not threatening the Gulf, but was describing a strategic reality that official rhetoric has long hidden from his allies in the regionز
The difference here is fundamental: When Washington looks at Hormuz, it sees a global energy corridor linked to U.S. gasoline prices, domestic inflation, and elections. When the Gulf states look at Hormuz, they see an artery through which their oil reaches the markets and the state institutions and social stability calculations revolve through its revenues. The same strait, with very different eyes, and two interests that meet only when fate coincides.
There is a reading in American strategic circles that does not declare out loud but calmly directs behavior: that the Middle East, in a state of competition, tension, and fragmentation, remains more manageable by the United States than a unified and integrated region. "Creative" chaos, according to this reading, ensures the continued need for a U.S. presence and keeps the cost of regional independence high.
In this equation, the Gulf states are not managed by direct threat, but by keeping them in constant need of a guarantee that does not come in its entirety and is not rejected entirely.
What we witnessed during the four months of the crisis revealed this equation with unprecedented clarity. Trump gave insurance guarantees to commercial tankers in March and then asked other countries to carry the load.
When the Islamabad talks failed in April, he imposed a naval blockade on Iran. But the blockade served to pressure Iran to accept U.S., not Gulf terms. The final agreement does not explicitly address the issue of Gulf security guarantees as a condition for any sustainable settlement.
This does not mean that America is an enemy of the Gulf, but rather something more precise and important: that America is a partner in its own interests, not a guardian of an independent will. The difference between the two images is the difference in how Gulf policy is formulated.
Ancient Arab wisdom does not call for denigrating external partnerships or calling for isolation, but rather for establishing a healthy relationship based on equality rather than dependence.
The Gulf states, which over the past decade have developed ambitious visions for economic diversification and charted paths for openness and modernization, have the right ground to expand this path toward strategic autonomy. The step is not to reject Washington as a partner, but to reject the prescription that makes partnership an alternative to self-determination.
The Gulf has what many countries in the world lack: sovereign wealth exceeding trillions of dollars, a geographical location that makes it a hub of the intersection of energy chains and global trade, and a young demographic dynamic that masters the technical language of the age.
These three resources, when managed with independent political will, constitute the proverbial "nail." Investing in an autonomous Gulf-regional security system is not a strategic luxury, but a necessity that has been deeply unfolded over the past months.
For decades, joint Gulf defense cooperation has been more of a structure than a real operational one. What the war has produced is a painful realization: When Hormuz is closed and all six Gulf states are hit with missiles and drones, American planes do not come in defense of Gulf capitals, but come when continuing strikes becomes costly to the American interest itself. This difference in incentives calls for a different Gulf answer.
The Gulf has what many countries in the world lack: sovereign wealth exceeding trillions of dollars, a geographical location that makes it a hub of energy chains and global trade, and a young demographic dynamic that masters the technical language of the ageز
What Qatar did during the crisis provides a thought-provoking example. Doha, which was targeted by Iranian missiles, did not abandon its channels with Tehran and did not close its door to Washington, but rather directed its negotiators to Tehran at a critical moment when the agreement was on the verge of collapse.
This mediation did not ask Washington, but stemmed from Qatar's own decision that sees maintaining open channels as an instrument of power that does not compromise on security. This is precisely what it means to "scratch your skin." Like your fingernail" when translated into foreign policy: Don't wait for someone to open the door for you, keep their key in your hand.
The broader lesson is that when countries in the region take their own initiatives—whether in mediation, capacity-building, or in formulating the terms of their participation in any international arrangement — they have a margin of autonomy that is difficult to win. The margin is not built on the rhetoric of rebellion against partnerships, but by meritocracy, which makes the Gulf a party that is not beyond the fact that America protects it, but because it has the cards that make it costly to overcome.
The agreement that will soon be signed in Geneva will reopen Hormuz, a real boon for the Gulf and global economies. But Hormuz, which was closed for weeks while the great powers were negotiating their interests, will remain a stark reminder that the arterial artery on which the region lives cannot remain hostage to consensus in which the region does not participate as a pivotal party.
"What scratches your skin like your fingernail" is not a call to war or isolation, but a call to seriousness in self-building, clarity in defining the benefit, and courage to not rely on anyone to protect what can be self-protected.
The countries of the region are faced with a historical choice, not dictated by slogans, but by the realities they have experienced over the past four months: either to continue to treat the American partnership as an adequate security guarantee in itself, or to shift to a stage in which this partnership becomes an element in a broader and deeper security equation that the Gulf is building with its own victory. The proverb does not recommend one of the two options, but rather calmly points out which of them is more effective.
