By Graeme Wood
Saturday, March 28, 2026
A few years ago in Dhahran, the Saudi state oil company,
Aramco, gave me a tour of its headquarters, a facility so sparkling and orderly
that one could forget that its whole purpose was to extract from the ground one
of the filthiest substances on Earth. The most impressive stop on the tour was
the Aramco emergency command center, which I imagine is paying its workers a
lot of overtime right now. It looked like the control room for a mission to
Alpha Centauri. Men and women sat at their stations. The walls were aglow with
constellations of green lights—each one, my host said, representing a
functioning object in the Aramco galaxy of pipelines, valves, ships, buses,
heat exchangers, and drill bits. If a light flashed red, it meant one of these
objects was broken, and the people at those stations would vault into action to
support the crew restoring it.
One major question in the current war is why Iran has so
far failed, or perhaps declined, to make life miserable for the people in that
room. The vow to annihilate energy infrastructure is one of two
threats—American and Iranian—that remain, as of this writing, unfulfilled. On
March 17, after Israel attacked Iran’s South Pars gas field, Iran threatened
five key oil-and-gas facilities in Qatar, the United Arab Emirates, and Saudi
Arabia. Last weekend, Donald Trump wrote that if Iran failed to open the Strait
of Hormuz in exactly 48 hours, “the United States of America will hit and
obliterate their various POWER PLANTS, STARTING WITH THE BIGGEST ONE FIRST!”
(American air superiority over Iran is matched only by its overwhelming
advantage in CAPITAL LETTERS, which Persian lacks.) So far, Trump has not
attacked the power plants—in fact, on Thursday he extended the deadline to
April 6—and most of the oil infrastructure in the region remains intact.
Trump’s targeting of power plants would be a remarkable
and possibly illegal step, if those plants are civilian, and it is difficult to
imagine any other president openly threatening their obliteration. Iran’s
targeting of oil-and-gas infrastructure, however, is predictable, and is one of
the reasons every president before Trump declined to attack Iran at all. It is
by far the most painful action Iran could take against the United States and
its allies. Saudi Arabia, Kuwait, and Qatar all pay their bills through oil and
gas, and if these stop flowing, they will rapidly turn from petrocrats to
paupers.
Wrecking oil infrastructure is easy. It has no legs; it
cannot run away or be hidden underground until danger passes. It is filled with
materials at high temperatures and pressures, and some of them can be set on
fire. In a 2019 attack that presaged the current war, a fleet of drones and a
barrage of cruise missiles hit Saudi Arabia’s Abqaiq and Khurais oil fields.
Abqaiq is the world’s most important oil field. Direct strikes on
crude-stabilization columns and gas-oil-separation tanks reduced Saudi oil output
by half. Saudi Arabia accused Iran of launching the attacks, and Crown Prince
Mohammed bin Salman told
me in 2022 that the U.S. was ready to punish Iran for the attack, but had held
back to avoid “escalation.”
Rebuilding that same infrastructure is hard. A single
well-aimed strike can set back a whole operation for a very long time. On March
18, Iran attacked Ras Laffan, Qatar’s main site for liquefied-natural-gas
production, and Qatar estimated that repairs would take three to five years.
Taylor Coleman, an oil-and-gas operations expert at
CapturePoint, told me that pipelines are relatively easy to fix, but refinery
equipment is another matter. Hydrocrackers—which heat up and pressurize heavy
oils, to convert them to lighter fuel products—are made of metal that is a foot
thick, and are built to withstand temperatures reaching thousands of degrees.
“There are only two or three foundries that can even make castings and forgings
for some of those vessels, and delivery times can be two, three, even four
years,” he said. This equipment is too expensive to stock spares. “We don’t
keep an entire plant laid down in a yard somewhere, just in case one blows up.”
The insatiable electricity needs of AI mean that if an oil-processing
plant—which is also hungry for electricity—loses its transformers, it has to
bid against, and get in line behind, technology companies that have already
been waiting years for fulfillment.
Iran has attacked not only Qatar but also Saudi
facilities at Ras Tanura and even Yanbu, all the way in the west, on the Red
Sea. Perhaps these were Iran’s best attempts at obliteration, and they were
mostly thwarted. (Ras Laffan was the most ruinous hit. Both Ras Tanura and
Yanbu were hit by debris from downed drones, and not fatally damaged.)
But there is also a strategic consideration that might
keep Iran from using maximum force. The logic of a devastating attack on
oil-and-gas infrastructure is uncomfortably similar to mutually assured
destruction: If Iran wipes out Saudi oil production, the immediate annihilation
of its own infrastructure is nearly certain. The two countries rely about
equally on oil and gas as shares of their exports, so such an attack by Iran
would be tantamount to economic murder-suicide. It would also end all polite remonstrance
from Iran’s neighbors, who have suggested
that Iran’s regime might survive the war, if it forswears attacks, blockades,
and terrorism. A direct attack on the oil fields would force the conclusion
that the regime must fall. Destroying energy production in the Persian Gulf
would also deal a grievous blow to Iran’s ally China, which devours both Arab
and Iranian oil and would be left energy-hungry for years.
The final reason these attacks have not yet happened is
probably the most important. Although Iran and the Gulf Arabs can mutually
assure each other’s destruction, only the Arab oil-and-gas fields are assured
to be reconstructed. Decades of sanctions and isolation have left Iran’s
facilities ragged and corroded. If the Iranian regime somehow survives the war,
no relief for this decrepitude will be forthcoming—whereas the Kuwaitis,
Qataris, and Saudis will be overrun with technical experts, and showered with
financing. And that reconstruction will be combined with redoubled efforts to
cripple Iran’s ability to attack the fields again. The Ras Laffan attacks show
that some constraints are physical and metallurgical, and even ultra-rich Qatar
will have to spend years rebuilding. But cooperation of rich allies can work
wonders. After the 2019 Abqaiq attack, Saudi oil was flowing at pre-attack
levels within a matter of weeks, in part because when the U.S. and China both
want your oil, they will defy economic and physical laws to obtain it.
The purpose of the Iranian military was never to win a
war—there is no “winning” a war against a military as advanced as America’s—but
to deter and punish anyone who started a war with it. This logic of deterrence
bought Iran decades, which is why it can boast a glorious past of successful
resistance against American power. The same logic now would lead to escalation
beyond Iran’s ability to manage, and could cost it an equally boastworthy
future.
No comments:
Post a Comment