Since the launch of the Israeli-US war on Iran in late February, Gulf Arab states have announced the dismantling of at least nine purported espionage networks linked to the Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps (IRGC) and Lebanese Hezbollah. Courts have handed down lengthy prison terms for spying and planning sabotage, including life sentences, and some governments have revoked citizenships and tightened rules for foreign nationals. On Oct. 26, a Kuwaiti court went further, sentencing three men to death for allegedly spying for Iran and Hezbollah.
Such disclosures were relatively uncommon before the war. Their frequency now raises an important question: why have some Gulf Cooperation Council (GCC) member states chosen to publicize them, and why have they differed in their methods?
On the one hand, the disclosures reflect longstanding concerns about alleged Iranian interference in the internal affairs of its southern neighbors. At the same time, the divergent approaches reflect each Gulf Arab state’s foreign policy and domestic political calculations, alongside differing assessments of the benefits and risks of going public.
Iranian intelligence in the Gulf
Iranian intelligence operations in the Gulf predate the 1979 Islamic Revolution. SAVAK, Iran’s first modern centralized intelligence service, relied partly on extensive human networks, including merchant families of Iranian descent, frequent travelers, religious officials and diplomatic personnel.
Profiles emerging from arrests carried out this year suggest that some of the recruitment environments that Iranian intelligence exploited under the late Shah Mohammad Reza Pahlavi (1941-79) remain relevant, even though the organizations responsible and their strategic goals have changed substantially.
Beyond making use of intelligence sharing with China and Russia to hit US interests, recent reporting suggests that Iran’s networks of informants in the region have played an important role in identifying targets that would not be visible in satellite imagery.
The first alleged Iranian cell was reported in Qatar, less than four days into the war. The Qatari State Security Bureau (SSB) on Mar. 3 announced the arrest of ten suspects in two cells allegedly working for the IRGC, saying that they had communication devices, the coordinates of critical infrastructure and technological equipment. Recruits reportedly traveled to Tehran, where they are accused of having received training in using drones.
Bahrain, Kuwait and the United Arab Emirates (UAE) have made similar announcements with broadly the same accusations. However, the way in which those cases have been publicly approached has differed.
In Kuwait, an appeals court in July lengthened one citizen’s ten-year sentence for allegedly spying for Iran and joining Hezbollah to life in prison. According to state security investigators cited in the ruling, the man was purportedly trained in weapons and combat in the Iranian holy city of Qom and met Hezbollah members during repeated visits to Iran, and was caught with a camera drone.
Different playbooks
States use intelligence disclosures as a strategic tool to deter foreign and domestic adversaries, foster national unity and signal coming measures. But any public release of intelligence carries considerable risks, including the exposure of sources and methods. It can also strain diplomatic relations, particularly when other countries are named.
That GCC states have foiled Iran-linked cells for decades, both before and after the fall of the Shah, is not surprising. The decision to disclose such purported networks now, and so frequently—rather than addressing such matters quietly—reflects a calculation that going public offers more advantages than private diplomacy.
In foreign policy terms, the strategy shows how the Israeli-US war on the Islamic Republic has prompted a reassessment of established diplomatic norms in GCC member state dealings with Iran. Yet, how each state has disclosed intelligence cannot be understood without grasping domestic socio-political dynamics. Indeed, domestically, the disclosures help Gulf Arab authorities project stability amid unprecedented tensions, and could also be used to justify a broader securitization of certain socio-political dynamics at home.
The UAE, which absorbed by far the largest volume of Iranian drones and missile strikes among GCC states in the first weeks of the war, has made its disclosures dramatic, with flashing lights, special operators and an armed officer detaining a suspect in a basement. The official Twitter/X account of the Emirati State Security Department (SSD) posted footage of the arrests with the hashtag “The_Secret_Shiite_Terrorist_Organization,” while the names and photographs of those arrested were made public.
One explanation for this approach is the Emirati desire to demonstrate security capabilities and project stability, as the war challenges the region’s reputation as a safe destination for tourism and investment. The explicit emphasis on “Shiite terrorism” may also be aimed at domestic audiences, highlighting concerns about foreign ideological influence and loyalty to the state.
Kuwait has adopted a somewhat different approach. Initial announcements of arrests named the suspects’ nationalities, including Kuwaiti citizens. That detail mattered because the detentions took place in the context of heated domestic debate over mass citizenship revocations and national loyalty. The later conviction of a Kuwaiti national for allegedly spying for Iran and Hezbollah gave a judicial outcome to allegations first made in security-related announcements.
In May, Kuwait said it had foiled an alleged IRGC infiltration of Bubiyan Island by men aboard a fishing boat. Four suspects were arrested and referred for prosecution. Unlike the earlier espionage cases, the incident involved allegations of armed infiltration and direct threats to military and sovereign facilities. Tehran rejected the charges, saying that the men had entered Kuwaiti waters because their navigation system had malfunctioned. If anything, the episode shows how public disclosures can produce competing narratives and further complicate diplomatic relations.
More recently, on Oct. 26, Kuwait’s Criminal Court sentenced three men to death for spying for Iran, collaborating with Hezbollah and plotting to assassinate First Deputy Prime Minister and Interior Minister Sheikh Fahad Yousef Saud Al-Sabah. It sentenced eight others to five years in prison with hard labor. Those sentenced to death include Hussein Al-Maatouq, a Shiite cleric and former secretary-general of the National Islamic Alliance—Kuwait’s main Shiite political bloc—whom investigators in the earlier case named as the convicted citizen’s Hezbollah contact.
The Iranian embassy has denied that an Iranian national sentenced to death was involved, saying that he had not been in Kuwait for a decade. In reaction, Kuwait summoned Iran’s ambassador on Oct. 28 over what it called “blatant interference” in its internal affairs and judiciary. Since the death sentences can be appealed, there could be an element of diplomacy involved in shaping the ultimate outcome.
Bahrain offers an even clearer example of how disclosures can turn into broader domestic security measures. After initial arrests, its High Criminal Court handed life sentences to suspects convicted of collaborating with the IRGC. Moreover, in April, authorities revoked the citizenship of 69 people over allegations ranging from espionage to sympathy for Iranian attacks on sites in Bahrain in retaliation for Israeli-US bombings. The line between espionage and political sympathy is particularly relevant in Bahrain. While authorities have framed the crackdown as a matter of national security, their scope shows how far the war has heightened sensitivities over national loyalty and political expression.
Qatar, which remains actively involved in mediating an end to the Iran-Israel-US war, has been notably restrained, naming neither the nationalities nor identities of those detained. Doha’s role in Iran-US mediation is one possible explanation for its restraint. Within a month of the initial arrests after the outbreak of the war, however, it suspended visas on arrival for Lebanese and Pakistani nationals.
The absence of comparable announcements from Oman and Saudi Arabia also deserves attention. Both have faced security concerns linked to Iran, directly or through aligned non-state actors, yet neither has featured as prominently in public disclosures of alleged domestic intelligence networks.
For Oman, its longstanding role as an intermediary for Tehran and ongoing discussions on shipping through the Strait of Hormuz may raise the cost of public confrontation. Saudi Arabia must similarly balance its security concerns, including the renewed threat posed by Yemen’s Ansarullah movement—also known as the Houthis—against efforts to preserve diplomatic channels with Tehran. At the same time, the Kingdom must remain mindful of domestic sectarian sensitivities that resurfaced during earlier periods of heightened Iranian-Saudi tensions.
Beyond the disclosures
The effectiveness of intelligence disclosure depends on what a country wants to achieve. Public announcements may reinforce deterrence and confidence at home in the short term, although their contribution to preventing future intelligence operations is difficult to establish. Where disclosures encourage sectarian suspicion, broaden punitive measures or complicate diplomacy, their longer-term costs may grow.
The contrasting approaches of Gulf Arab states suggest that the political value of disclosure ultimately depends on how governments balance immediate security goals with longer-term domestic and diplomatic considerations. In practical terms, it remains to be seen where that dynamic may leave things for networks and individuals perceived as close to Iran once the war comes to an end.