When War Closes The Sky

Modern wars no longer disrupt only borders on land. Increasingly, they also fracture the skies that sustain global aviation. The latest escalation between Iran and Israel has once again shown how quickly geopolitical conflict can destabilise the invisible infrastructure of international air travel. Following US–Israeli strikes on Iranian targets on 28 February 2026, several Middle Eastern states imposed emergency airspace restrictions as missile and drone activity intensified across the region. By the first week of March, aviation monitoring data cited by Reuters indicated that more than 37,000 flights connected to Middle Eastern corridors had been cancelled, while oil prices surged by roughly 20 per cent, sharply increasing airline operating costs.

The significance of the crisis extends far beyond delayed departures. The air corridor linking Europe, Asia, Africa and Australia, one of the busiest arteries in global aviation, has been destabilised. When instability spreads across this region, airlines are forced to redraw routes, extend flight times and absorb rising fuel costs, exposing how vulnerable the global aviation system remains to geopolitical shocks. 

Airline networks

To understand why the disruption matters so widely, one must look at the geography of modern airline networks. The Middle East is not merely another region in global aviation; it functions as a bridging geography connecting several of the world’s largest travel markets. Airlines based in the Gulf built their business models precisely around this strategic location. By positioning hubs in Dubai, Doha and Abu Dhabi, carriers such as Emirates, Qatar Airways and Etihad Airways link Europe with Asia and Oceania through efficient one-stop connections. Industry estimates cited by Reuters suggest these airlines collectively carry around one-third of passenger traffic between Europe and Asia, and more than half of Europe’s traffic to Australia and New Zealand.

When airspace across Iran, Iraq, Syria and the surrounding regions becomes restricted, the disruption is therefore not simply regional. It cuts directly into the operational logic of global airline networks. Carefully timed connection banks begin to unravel, long-haul flight waves slip, aircraft rotations lengthen and cargo routes must be redesigned. Closing this corridor does not remove a single market; it weakens the efficiency of an entire intercontinental aviation system. For airline planners, the deeper concern is not only cancelled flights but the loss of schedule integrity. Modern network carriers depend on precise planning, accurate block times, coordinated connection banks and high aircraft utilisation. When airlines are forced to avoid conflict zones, those assumptions quickly begin to erode.

Flights rerouted around restricted airspace often require additional contingency fuel and longer flight times. In some cases, airlines must consider technical refuelling stops as safe corridors narrow. Carrying extra fuel can create payload penalties, reducing space for revenue cargo or baggage. Longer routes also push crews closer to regulatory duty limits, sometimes requiring last-minute crew substitutions. Even a modest delay on one inbound aircraft can disrupt several later departures, spreading disruption across interconnected global schedules. Beyond economics lies an equally important issue: aviation risk governance. Modern conflicts increasingly place missiles, drones and military activity in proximity to busy civilian flight corridors. 

In such conditions, the operating landscape can change within hours. Airspace that remains technically open may still be judged unsafe by airline safety departments. Decisions about where aircraft can fly increasingly resemble strategic risk management rather than routine operational planning. For Nepal, these developments highlight a deeper structural vulnerability. The country’s global mobility depends heavily on the Gulf aviation network, which acts as the primary bridge between Kathmandu and the wider world. According to Nepal’s Ministry of Foreign Affairs, approximately 1,729,288 Nepali citizens live and work across Middle Eastern countries, making the region the largest destination for Nepali migrant labour.

The economic importance of this migration is immense. Nepal Rastra Bank reported remittance inflows of Rs 1,062.93 billion during the first six months of fiscal year 2025/26, including Rs 192.62 billion received between mid-December and mid-January alone. For millions of Nepali households, these remittances form a vital economic lifeline. Against this backdrop, disruptions in Gulf airspace carry implications that reach far beyond airline schedules. On 8 March, Nepal Airlines announced the cancellation of several Kathmandu–Dubai and Kathmandu–Doha flights scheduled for 9–11 March, citing the volatile airspace environment across the Middle East.

Corridors 

For Nepal, Gulf airspace therefore represents far more than a transit route. It functions simultaneously as three different corridors – labour, remittance and family reconnection. When instability affects these skies, the consequences quickly reach Nepali households. Workers may face travel delays; students may struggle to return to universities abroad and ticket prices can rise beyond what many migrant workers can afford. For Nepalis living in Israel and nearby regions, the crisis carries an even more immediate human dimension. Nepal’s Ministry of Foreign Affairs has advised citizens in Israel and Iran to defer travel, remain alert and follow local security guidance, while providing emergency contact channels through Nepali missions abroad. 

Yet leaving a conflict-affected region is rarely as simple as booking a seat. Evacuation depends on available air corridors, embassy coordination and whether nearby transit hubs remain operational. Airspace is often viewed as neutral infrastructure that is regulated, charted and predictable. Yet recent events show it is increasingly becoming a strategic instrument of geopolitics. When conflicts destabilise major air corridors, the consequences ripple through airline networks, global trade and labour mobility. For countries like Nepal, which have a globally dispersed workforce but limited long-haul aviation capacity, the lesson is clear. Dependence on distant air corridors is not merely a connectivity issue. In an uncertain world, it is a national vulnerability.

(Basnet is currently studying MSc in Air Transport Management at the University of Surrey, United Kingdom.)