How Iraq’s invasion of Kuwait is still shaping regional dynamics 35 years later

Kuwaiti soldiers watch a burning oil well as they patrol the Kuwaiti Oil Company's oil fields set on fire by Iraqi troops on March 11, 1991. (AFP File photo)
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Updated 03 August 2025
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How Iraq’s invasion of Kuwait is still shaping regional dynamics 35 years later

  • Iraqi forces invaded Kuwait on Aug. 2, 1990, prompting a US-led coalition to intervene and liberate the country seven months later
  • The First Gulf War left deep scars in Kuwait, including environmental damage and a national trauma that still resonates today

LONDON: Disbelief. That was the reaction of Saudi general Prince Khalid bin Sultan when he answered the telephone at his home near Riyadh in the early hours of Aug. 2, 1990, and learnt that Iraq had invaded Kuwait.

The general had been entertaining friends at a barbecue, and they were still sipping coffee when the phone rang.

“War was the farthest thing from my mind,” Prince Khalid recalled in an article he wrote in 1993. “Arabs may disagree, but they don’t usually invade each other.”

The prince’s disbelief was shared by the rest of the world. 

Now, 35 years on, the avalanche of consequences triggered by Iraq’s unprovoked invasion of its tiny southern neighbor continues to reverberate — in Kuwait and the entire region.

In a surprise pre-dawn attack, hundreds of Iraqi tanks and tens of thousands of troops, backed by helicopters and fighter aircraft, began pouring over the border.

As a postwar report by the US Pentagon would later put it, “despite individual acts of bravery,” the heavily outnumbered Kuwaiti forces “were hopelessly outmatched.”

By 4 a.m., Iraqi troops were at the gates of Dasman Palace in the heart of Kuwait City. Emir Jaber Al-Ahmad Al-Sabah and most of his family were evacuated just in time, seeking sanctuary in Saudi Arabia, but his younger brother, Sheikh Fahad, was among those who died in defense of the palace.




General Khalid bin Sultan bin Abdul Aziz, chief of the Saudi Armed Forces in the Desert Storm and Desert Shield campaigns during Iraq's invasion of Kuwait in 1990, speaks during a press conference in Riyadh on Feb. 25, 1991. (AFP)

Isolated units of the Kuwaiti army fought a series of running battles before withdrawing to regroup over the Saudi border. Hundreds were killed.

Pilots of the small Kuwaiti air force downed at least 20 helicopters ferrying Iraqi troops over the border before their bases were overrun. 

Many Kuwaitis fled the country, most seeking sanctuary in neighboring Saudi Arabia. Those who were unable to escape faced an ordeal of looting, arrests and executions during an occupation that would last seven months.




Picture taken on August 9, 1990 in Egypian port of Nuweiba showing Egyptian workers arriving after leaving Kuwait amid an invasion by the Iraqi army. (AFP)

A cable to Washington from US diplomats in Saudi Arabia on Nov. 22, 1990, reported that the invasion “and subsequent Iraqi brutalities in Kuwait literally drove Kuwait into Saudi Arabia. 

“Thousands of refugees and the bulk of Kuwait’s government arrived on the scene in need of support and sustenance. The Saudis were and remain generous with both.”

Kuwait was liberated on Feb. 27, 1991, by the forces of a multinational US-led coalition which had been assembled in Saudi Arabia. Iraq, previously an ally, had massed tanks on the border and fired Scud missiles at targets in the Kingdom. Just two days before the Iraqis were routed from Kuwait, one of these missiles killed 28 US personnel at a base in Dharan.




US and Saudi soldiers pass under road signs showing the way towards Kuwait city on February 26, 1991, as allied forces moved towards the liberation of the capital. (AFP/ file photo)

As they retreated, Iraqi forces set fire to hundreds of Kuwait’s oil wells. Thousands of Saddam Hussein’s soldiers died as they fled back to Iraq, their vehicles repeatedly attacked by coalition aircraft on Highway 80.

“Iraq’s invasion of Kuwait, while garnering a historically united response from the international community, ironically also marked the beginning of regional disunity, distrust, and fragmentation,” said Caroline Rose, a defense and security director at the New Lines Institute for Strategy and Policy in Washington.




An oil refinery, set alight by Iraqi troops, continues to burn and plunges area into pitch black darkness in the south of Kuwait city on March 1, 1991. (AFP)

“The invasion incited new levels of wariness between Gulf states and their regional neighbors as Kuwait’s location and rich oil reserves had become a vulnerability, rather than a strength, that had motivated Iraq to invade.

“This promoted a ‘this could happen to us’ mentality among Gulf states, marking moves to increase defense ties with security guarantors such as the US.”


READ MORE:

• Desert Storm: 30 years on

• Analysis: How Iran reaped the rewards of Saddam’s 1990 Kuwait invasion

• Thirty years ago, Iraq invaded Kuwait

• Saddam Hussein ‘acted like Hitler’ during Kuwait invasion, former UK PM Thatcher said


The invasion of Kuwait, and the resulting international intervention, she said, “also marked a sharp downward trend in political, economic and social stability in Iraq, later opening up the country for Iranian influence and campaigns to widen the sectarian divide in both Iraq and the Levant at large.” 

Sir John Jenkins, former British ambassador to Saudi Arabia, Iraq and Syria, agreed that the invasion and its aftermath “certainly encouraged Iran, and helped Tehran build on its successes in the 1980s in creating out of dissident exiled Iraqi Shiites the nucleus of a militia — the Badr Brigade — which ultimately helped to secure the victory of the Shiite Islamist bloc after 2003.”

There were other geopolitical upheavals. When Kuwait was liberated, “the expulsion of most Palestinians resident there, in retaliation for PLO chairman Yasser Arafat’s major error in supporting Saddam, resulted in an influx into Jordan, which raised Amman property prices and also made Jordanian Palestinians more radical.”




Picture taken on August 27, 1990 at Ruwaished, at Iraqi-Jordan border, showing a traffic jam due to thousands of people fleeing Kuwait and Iraq twenty-five days after the invasion of Kuwait by the Iraqi army. (AFP)

Perhaps most importantly, in the aftermath of the invasion “the passing at the UN in New York of a set of punitive resolutions imposing on Iraq requirements for compensation and redress and intrusive inspections of its weapons programs led to a breakdown of consensus within the UN Security Council, the food-for-oil scandal, and ultimately the discrediting of the UN as the last resort on issues of international peace and security.”

That, said Sir John, “is one reason US President George W. Bush thought he should go it alone in 2003.”

The fact that coalition forces stopped 240 kilometers short of Baghdad in 1991, choosing to leave Saddam Hussein in power, has remained controversial.




Photo taken March 5, 1991 of a convoy of US Army tanks driving down the road from Kuwait towards Dhahran in the Saudi desert as US troops begin their withdrawal from Kuwait. (AFP)

But in 2003, in the wake of the Sept. 11, 2001, attacks on the US, and under the pretext of searching for weapons of mass destruction, a US-led coalition returned to Iraq to finish the job, costing 300,000 Iraqi and US lives in the course of an invasion, occupation and subsequent insurgency that would last for years.

There were other far-reaching consequences of Iraq’s attack on Kuwait. In leading ultimately to the demise of Saddam Hussein, “it destroyed the last real champion of pan-Arabism, creating more space for radical Islamists,” said Sir John.




A reproduction of a picture displayed at the Nasr or Victory Museum in Baghdad shows Iraqi President Saddam Hussein (L) visiting Iraqi troops at a military camp in occupied territory in Kuwait after the August 2, 1990 invasion of the Gulf emirate. (AFP)

But it is for Kuwaitis that the echoes of invasion are loudest.

“To be a formerly occupied country is to be in quite a unique position,” said Bader Mousa Al-Saif, an assistant professor of history at Kuwait University and an associate fellow on the Middle East and North Africa program at UK policy institute Chatham House.

“It has left Kuwait trapped in a combination of denial and survival mode, preventing a return to normalcy.

“We haven’t really sat down as a people to talk through what we went through — the traumas, the losses, and how we can move on.”

This failure to find national closure “has led to a lot of displaced energy in other spaces, such as rising crime and drug taking,” while an understandable focus on security has stalled Kuwait’s momentum.

“Our geography hasn’t changed,” said Al-Saif, who served as deputy chief of staff to a former prime minister of Kuwait.




Saudi Arabian soldiers stand guard in front of Iraqi prisoners on February 25, 1991 in Kuwait as Allied forces claim to have taken nearly 20,000 prisoners. (AFP)

“We’re still a small country surrounded by larger neighbors and keeping that all in check has, in a way, halted our own development. 

“If your mind is focused on survival, you’re not going to be able to push forward, in the way that the other Gulf states have pushed themselves forward.”

For many Kuwaitis, the largest unhealed wound is the fate of its “martyrs,” — the 308 people who, after 35 years, remain missing, presumed dead.

“Kuwait continues to fly the flag for these people — not only Kuwaiti nationals but also those from other countries who disappeared,” said Al-Saif.

After the war, the fate of more than 600 people, mainly civilians, was unknown. Some remains, found in mass graves in Iraq and identified by their DNA, have been returned, “but we cannot claim this chapter is fully closed until we can bring some relief to those 308 families that are still seeking answers and want to honor and safeguard their loved ones by burying them properly.”




Kuwaitis watch as the coffins of nineteen Kuwaiti prisoners of war (POWs) whose remains were recently found in a mass grave in Iraq and identified following DNA tests, are carried by honor guards during a funeral procession at a cemetaery in Kuwait City on November 21, 2021. (AFP)

The Iraqi government, said Al-Saif, “has been working to support this, which is why we have recovered the remains of some people, but this work needs to continue. And while Kuwait does not doubt the sincerity, due diligence and hard efforts of Iraq, it is pushing for more speed and agility in this matter.”

There is also the issue of Kuwait’s national archives, stolen during the invasion, the fate of which remains even less clear.

“The archive remains missing, and we haven’t received any information about it. A few things have been returned, but much of the fabric of the country’s heritage and memories remains lost, and this also needs to be resolved,” said Al-Saif.




Kuwaiti former prisoners of war (RtoL) Nasser Salmeen, Abdulwahad al-Nafah and Abdullah al-Awadhi shows theirs faces on a picture taken during their captivity in an Iraqi prison on August 2, 2015 in Kuwait City at the Kuwait House for National Works Museum. (AFP)

For the past 35 years, he added, “Kuwait has been striving for normalcy,” a quest frustrated in part by the ongoing uncertainty over its maritime borders.

“As an aspiring responsible nation which abides by the rules-based international order, having fixed borders is the least that you can demand, and we haven’t been able to settle the maritime boundary between Iraq and Kuwait for the past 20 years,” he said.

Ever since 2005, when the first government of Iraq was elected in the wake of the US occupation, Kuwait has been working to resolve this unsettling issue.




Kuwaitis visit the Martyr's Museum at the Martyr's Office headquarters in Kuwait City on August 2, 2022, on the 32nd anniversary of the 1990 Iraqi invasion of Kuwait. (AFP)

“But we’re at a standstill,” said Al-Saif. “Committees have come and gone but there hasn’t been any closure on this, which isn’t good for either country.”

The issue centers on the Khor Abdullah, the narrow waterway shared between the two countries for about 50 kilometers before it enters the Arabian Gulf.

There has been a long-running dispute over the precise location of the maritime boundary beyond the mouth of the waterway, an issue which — as highlighted by an analysis by the International Crisis Group, co-authored by Al-Saif and published last month — has been exploited by Iraqi politicians “seemingly hoping to boost their own electoral fortunes.” 

Such rabble rousing seems to be working. A meeting in Kuwait City on July 17 of the Joint Kuwaiti-Iraqi Technical and Legal Committee provoked outcry in Iraq, with politicians claiming that access to Iraq’s new Grand Faw Port was under threat, along with Iraqi sovereignty. 

Meanwhile, said Al-Saif, the uncertainty would undermine the confidence of investors and industry over the viability of both the Grand Faw Port in Iraq and Kuwait’s Mubarak Al-Kabeer Port, both currently under construction barely miles apart on opposite banks near the mouth of the Khor Abdullah.

He concluded: “This needs to be sorted out for the sake of all concerned. Unfortunately, the Kuwait card is being played in Iraq to draw attention away from domestic issues there.”
 

 


Can citizen-led clinics fill the void left in Sudan’s shattered health system?

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Can citizen-led clinics fill the void left in Sudan’s shattered health system?

  • Grassroots initiatives like Nubia Health are filling critical gaps, as Sudan’s health system collapses and international aid remains minimal
  • Diaspora-backed models are emerging as resilient alternatives, offering sustainable, community-based care in place of state structures

LONDON: As Sudan’s war forces millions to flee, the remote frontier town of Wadi Halfa, near the Egyptian border, has become a bottleneck for displaced families — and a focal point of the country’s spiraling public health crisis.

Where trauma, hunger, and war wounds converge daily, one clinic is offering desperate families much-needed respite. Grassroots health initiatives like this are filling the gaps where state and international aid agencies have fallen short.

Since April 2023, when a violent power struggle between the Sudanese Armed Forces and the paramilitary Rapid Support Forces plunged the country into civil war, Sudan has faced a multi-layered catastrophe.

More than 12 million people have been displaced, and the conflict between the SAF and RSF — which some estimates suggest has killed over 150,000 — has triggered the world’s largest humanitarian crisis.

In Northern State, Wadi Halfa has transformed from a sleepy border town into a safe haven for thousands of people on the move. 

Staff at Nubia Health Center, Wadi Halfa. (Supplied)

Here, a grassroots, diaspora-supported facility — Nubia Health — is offering a community-based model of care built to withstand the collapse of the national health system.

Dr. Majdi Osman, a doctor and scientist at the University of Cambridge and the founder of Nubia Health, recently returned from Sudan and noted that the city’s population had “grown so much” since his last visit.

“So many of the people who were there have come from other parts of Sudan, from Khartoum and from Darfur and Blue Nile, the Nuba Mountains. The city itself has become much more diverse,” he said.

Many new arrivals, including doctors, had originally intended to reach Egypt, which now hosts the largest share of Sudanese refugees. Instead, they remained in Wadi Halfa, giving the town newfound status as a place of refuge.

Despite the sanctuary it offers, signs of war are everywhere. Osman said that while the conflict has not reached Wadi Halfa directly, a heavy military presence is felt through checkpoints and a 10 p.m. curfew. 

Darfur IDPs arriving in Northern State. (Supplied)

Even here, he said, “you do feel like life is very different to how it once was before the war, where it was much freer and people could congregate and move around freely.”

The new arrivals carry the hidden scars of a brutal conflict, but it is often medical emergencies — chronic, unmanaged, and severe — that finally force families to flee.

Osman described one family who stayed in Khartoum for months despite the violence, only moving north when a dire health crisis struck. One of their children appeared to have leukemia and was deteriorating rapidly, while the mother, who had severe kidney disease, needed dialysis.

“Eventually they were able to transfer their son through to Egypt to get treatment, but the rest of the family stayed in Sudan because they couldn’t move over,” he said.

Such trauma is widespread. Health emergencies are “triggering their need to move to Wadi Halfa,” he said, leading to “families separated because of the medical needs of one or two members of the family.” 

Nubia Health Center. (Supplied)

Maternal health has also suffered devastating blows. Osman recounted the story of an expectant mother who “unfortunately went into labor early and lost her child” while fleeing to Wadi Halfa. Now pregnant again, her hope is simply to deliver safely and raise her baby with access to basic child healthcare.

Beyond injuries and chronic illness, the collapse of supply chains has produced severe, preventable health crises. Osman recalled meeting a teacher whose student had gone blind from untreated Vitamin A deficiency — “something that you only hear or read about in the UK in medical textbooks.”

He said the health effects of the war are “very obvious,” and that the absence of medical support appears in “every conversation.”

The tragedies unfolding in Wadi Halfa reflect a national health system in free fall. Even before the war, decades of underinvestment left Sudan’s system fragile, with 70 percent of healthcare providers concentrated in Khartoum, which serves just 20 percent of the population.

Since fighting began, fewer than 30 percent of health facilities remain functional. 

(Supplied)

The World Health Organization has verified 198 attacks on health infrastructure since April 2023, resulting in 1,735 health workers and patients killed, and 438 wounded.

Hospitals have been looted, bombed, and militarized, including the occupation of Al-Nuhud Hospital in West Kordofan. WHO Director-General Tedros Adhanom Ghebreyesus has said such attacks “must stop.”

The public health crisis is now spiraling. Medecins Sans Frontieres teams report extreme levels of acute malnutrition, finding that more than 70 percent of children under 5 who fled El-Fasher were acutely malnourished.

Malnutrition is also widespread in Khartoum and Blue Nile, driven by “inadequate food, disease, insecurity, lack of livelihoods and unsafe living conditions.”

Cholera, measles, and malaria are spreading rapidly. Since cholera’s resurgence in July 2024, more than 83,000 cases and 2,100 deaths have been reported. Immunization coverage has fallen to its lowest level in 40 years. 

A Sudanese child waits her turn during a campaign responding to the polio epidemic and for the elimination of vitamin A deficiency, launched with the support of UNICEF, targeting the innoculation of more than 12,000 children from 6 months-old to 5-years-old, in Gedaref state in eastern Sudan on June 9, 2024. (AFP)

Women and children are bearing the heaviest burden. Maternal, newborn, and child health services typically collapse early in conflict, and pregnant women are increasingly giving birth without skilled attendants.

Even before the war, the UN Children’s Fund estimated that 78,000 children under 5 were dying annually from preventable causes — a number expected to triple.

Gender-based violence is also surging, with reports of rape used systematically as a weapon of war, including against very young girls. Survivors have almost no access to mental health or protection services.

In this vacuum, grassroots initiatives such as Nubia Health are emerging as resilient new models.

Osman described his shock upon returning to Sudan last month expecting a major international humanitarian presence responding to “the largest humanitarian disaster in the world at the moment.” Instead, he found “there’s nothing.” 

A sanitation worker sprays disinfectant, part of a campaign by Sudan's Health Ministry to combat the spread of disease, in Kassala state in eastern Sudan on August 20, 2024. (AFP)

Support was instead coming from ordinary Sudanese. “It’s just people in the neighborhoods providing support to each other. Many houses in Wadi Halfa were just hosting refugees.”

This reality underscores the importance of the Nubia Health model, centered on community ownership and long-term sustainability.

Though based in Wadi Halfa, the organization aims to scale community health programs nationwide, ensuring people can access basic care with dignity and safety.

Dr. Khalil, the director of Nubia Health, highlighted the effectiveness of the model.

“Sudanese-run and diaspora-supported clinics like ours play an important role in expanding access to reliable, community-based healthcare,” he said. 

Cholera infected patients receive treatment in the cholera isolation centre at the refugee camps of western Sudan, in Tawila city in Darfur, on August 14, 2025. (AFP)

“We combine local knowledge and trust with the technical and financial support of our diaspora colleagues.”

The clinic provides a vital range of services, from managing chronic conditions such as hypertension and diabetes to treating respiratory infections, diarrheal disease, and seasonal malaria.

Khalil said many pregnant women face anemia, delayed antenatal visits, and limited follow-up. The clinic provides antenatal care throughout pregnancy and is establishing pathways to ensure safer deliveries.

Recognizing widespread depression and post-traumatic stress disorder linked to the war, the center also employs a psychologist.

Osman said they will work with the International Organization for Migration and UNICEF to support survivors of gender-based violence, offering both medical and psychological care. 

A boy looks on as another is vaccinated against diphtheria at the Al-Afad camp for displaced people in the town of Al-Dabba, northern Sudan, on November 22, 2025. (AFP)

Nubia Health is also expanding its community health worker program. They are “training community health workers, scaling that to reach several hundred thousand people, meet them at their homes, provide education and early diagnosis and screening and treatment of diseases like malnutrition, early lung infections, malaria.”

Still, the challenges are immense. Khalil said the main obstacles include “achieving stable funding and securing essential equipment and supplies. We also need to adapt to logistical and security constraints in the region.”

Meanwhile, the UN’s Humanitarian Needs and Response Plan for Sudan is just 23 percent funded, despite nearly 26 million people needing assistance.

Yet Osman remains motivated by the dedication of Sudanese staff.

His greatest hope, he said, comes not from the facility itself but from the 50 workers who have rallied around it — an “amazing group of young people” who have built a health center in the middle of a war and are becoming “pillars of the community.” 

(Supplied)

“The one thing that diaspora can have is that commitment to always try and do everything possible to support people back home in this,” he said.

Sudan, he stressed, does not lack doctors — it lacks the systems that allow them to serve. Nubia Health aims to provide that missing infrastructure.

In a final reflection, Osman emphasized their commitment to evidence-based practice.

“Research isn’t necessarily something that should be restricted to lofty academic institutions,” he said, “but we also have a commitment, we believe, to understand whether what we’re doing is improving health outcomes.”

For now, the Nubia Health Center stands as a beacon of dignity and care — a community-driven model offering a fragile but vital safety net for a people whose suffering has been largely sidelined by the world.