The Middle East has long been a powder keg, a legacy of displacement and discord stretching back to 1948. From the Yom Kippur War to the devastating ongoing conflict in Gaza, the region has remained in a state of perennial volatility. The current escalation, however, masterminded by Trump and Netanyahu, represents a dangerous new chapter.
By targeting Iran’s core leadership and infrastructure, the US-Israel partnership has challenged a “rogue state” backed by the formidable shadows of Russia and China. This isn’t just another regional skirmish. It is a direct assault on the Tehran-led resistance to the Western-backed order.
Over the years, the number of states that have seriously challenged the US-supported regional order has dwindled. Due mainly to regime change, the threats posed by Iraq, Libya and Syria have vanished.
For the Philippines, whose economic development is largely reliant on global energy markets and labor migration, the unrest in the Middle East is about to hit the country with major shockwaves.
Why should a tricycle driver in Quezon City or a BPO worker in Cebu care about airstrikes across the Middle East? Because the Persian Gulf is the gas station of the world.
Any prolonged conflict in the Persian Gulf inevitably leads to a spike in global oil prices. Failure to deescalate soon can lead to an economic catastrophe for most nations.
For the Philippines — already grappling with stubborn inflation — this oil dependency creates a volatile domino effect: skyrocketing transport costs, surging food prices and a battered peso. If left unchecked, these economic tremors will inevitably spill over into the political arena, potentially igniting a firestorm of domestic unrest.
For the country’s most vulnerable sectors, the adverse impact of the conflict is already a daily reality. Manibela, a major jeepney transport group, has already sounded the alarm, petitioning the government for urgent subsidies as fuel costs climb. Their warning is clear: without immediate intervention, transport strikes — the industry’s “last resort” — may soon paralyze our cities.
The risk to our 2.4-million “kababayan” in the Gulf represents a dual crisis. These overseas Filipino workers (OFW) are more than just modern-day heroes now in harm’s way, they are the backbone of our economic stability and growth, contributing P380 billion ($6.48 billion) in remittances last year. Any threat to their safety or disruption of their work would send a catastrophic shockwave through the millions of Filipino households that depend on them.
A mass repatriation effort would not only be a logistical nightmare but would also choke the vital flow of remittances that keeps our national economy afloat. Besides, a mass repatriation would mean adding more pressure to our domestic labor market that’s already burdened by a 5.8-percent unemployment rate or nearly three million Filipinos out of work. This would be a recipe for a domestic crisis.
As one OFW aptly put it: “Mas lalo kaming magugutom dyan kapag umuwi kami” (We will only go hungrier if we return). For these families, the safety of home is a hollow promise if there is no work to sustain them.
We have no control over the drones and missiles or the diplomacy in the Middle East, but we can control our country’s readiness. The Philippine government must move beyond mere monitoring and begin active contingency planning. This means diversifying energy sources, securing alternative supply chains and ensuring that our embassies in the Middle East have the resources to protect or evacuate our citizens at a moment’s notice.
Beyond immediate subsidies, the government must undertake a long-term overhaul of our energy policy. We can no longer afford a reactive stance. Our country needs a strategic roadmap that permanently insulates our national economy from the chronic instability of the Middle East.
The war in the Middle East may have started with a single wave of missiles, but its ending is nowhere in sight, even if Donald Trump recently said that the war will end “very soon.”
For Manila, the goal isn’t just to watch the horizon — it’s to brace for the impact.