Opinion

Priced out of peace: The hidden war on everyday people

Those with limited income are not just observers of global conflict, they are its silent financiers, paying through higher prices, reduced access and growing uncertainty.

Every 10 per cent increase in global oil prices can raise food prices by up to 2–3 per cent in import-dependent economies. In a region where over 80 per cent of food is imported, that is not an economic statistic, it is a direct threat to household survival.
Global wars are no longer just fought on battlefields, they are priced into your grocery bill. When oil prices spike, those with limited income pay first and longest. In import-dependent economies, even a modest energy shock quietly translates into higher costs of bread, transport, and daily survival. What we are witnessing today is not just geopolitical escalation, it is a transfer of economic pain to those with the least protection, including to the working families with limited income.
A community is only as strong as its most vulnerable members, yet today that principle is being tested under unprecedented pressure. The escalating confrontation launched by the Israeli occupation and the US against Iran, along with the vicious and suspicious strikes and rising tensions across the Arabian Gulf, including in the Port of Salalah, my hometown in the Sultanate of Oman, has evolved into more than a security crisis. It is a systemic disruption that is already rippling through energy markets, supply chains, and ultimately into household budgets.
The mechanism is simple, but its impact is severe. When energy markets react to instability, particularly around critical chokepoints such as the Strait of Hormuz, shipping costs rise, insurance premiums increase, and supply chains tighten. These pressures do not remain in global markets; they cascade downward. Food becomes more expensive, transport less affordable, and inflation more entrenched. For wealthier economies, this is absorbed through policy tools and fiscal buffers. For millions across the Global South, it is absorbed through sacrifice.
This is the hidden battlefield. Not defined by military gains or territorial shifts, but by shrinking purchasing power and growing economic anxiety. Inflation, in this context, is not just an economic outcome, it functions as an invisible tax, disproportionately imposed on those who have no margin to absorb it. In many developing economies, where food already accounts for a significant share of household spending, even small increases can trigger real hardship.
From a KNIFE perspective, this moment exposes a critical failure in how global events are framed and managed. The dominant Israeli occupation and US narrative remain focused on power, Islamophobia, deterrence, and strategic advantage. Yet the real impact is being felt far from decision-making centres. When the narrative ignores the vulnerable, the system inevitably shifts its burden onto them.
Ethically, this is difficult to justify. The consequences of geopolitical decisions are no longer confined to those who make them. They are externalised onto populations with limited resilience and no representation in the process. The result is not only economic strain, but a gradual erosion of trust in global systems that appear increasingly detached from human realities.
History offers a contrasting model to the economically predatorial leadership style of the current US Administration. During the rule of Umar ibn al-Khattab RA, the second Rashidon Chalif reigned 634-644 CE, a devastating famine, known as the “Year of Ashes” threatened widespread hardship. His response was immediate and systemic. State resources were mobilised, food was distributed directly, and local governors were held accountable for ensuring no one was left behind. More importantly, leadership was visibly aligned with the people’s condition. He refused personal comfort while others suffered, setting a standard of accountability that extended beyond policy into practice.
The relevance of this example today is clear. Market forces alone cannot be relied upon to manage systemic shocks of this scale. Without intervention, the burden will continue to fall disproportionately on those least equipped to carry it. Effective leadership requires anticipating these pressures and acting before they become crises at the household level.
This is where socio-economic strategy becomes critical. Strengthening local food systems, diversifying supply chains, and expanding targeted social protection are no longer optional, they are essential buffers against external volatility. Economies such as Oman, with a strategic focus on diversification and local content, have the opportunity to lead by embedding resilience into their economic model rather than reacting to shocks after they occur.
At the same time, the technological dimension of this crisis cannot be ignored. Advanced economies are increasingly deploying artificial intelligence and predictive analytics to manage disruptions and optimise resource flows, instead of only deploying them in offensive military weapons. The risk for developing regions is not just exposure to shocks, but exclusion from the tools that mitigate them. Yet this also presents a strategic opportunity. Investment in digital infrastructure, logistics optimisation, and youth-driven innovation can transform vulnerability into adaptability, if pursued with urgency and intent.
Environmental implications further complicate the picture. Conflict-driven disruptions often delay sustainability efforts, while increasing emissions and environmental degradation.
Yet the instability of fossil fuel-dependent systems is precisely what this crisis is exposing. The long-term response cannot be to double down on fragility, but to accelerate transitions toward renewable energy, carbon capture and more sustainable economic models.
Ultimately, the question is no longer who controls the battlefield, but who carries its cost. The answer, increasingly, is ordinary people. Those with limited income are not just observers of global conflict, they are its silent financiers, paying through higher prices, reduced access and growing uncertainty.
The strategic lesson is clear. Societies that endure are not those that avoid disruption, but those that design systems capable of absorbing it. This requires leadership that sees beyond immediate geopolitical calculations and prioritises long-term societal resilience.
The uncomfortable truth is this: When war is priced into daily life, it is no longer distant. It has already arrived.

Khalid Alsafi Al Huraibi The writer is an innovator and an insights storyteller,