How the Iran Conflict Is Redrawing the Map of Global Energy

Energy powers almost everything we do – from heating our homes to fueling the planes that criss‑cross the sky. While renewable sources are growing fast, fossil fuels still dominate, making up roughly 81 percent of the world’s total consumption. That means any hiccup in oil or gas production sends tremors through economies far beyond the Middle East.

In early October, despite a tragic Houthi strike on Riyadh’s King Khalid International Airport that left dozens dead and injured, Saudi Arabia pressed ahead with the 25th World Petroleum Council Energy Congress. The event, dubbed Riyadh Energy Week, runs alongside the 17th International Energy Forum (IEF) Ministerial, gathering 68 nations that together account for more than 90 percent of global oil and gas supply and demand.

What makes this gathering especially urgent now is the raging US‑Israel‑Iran war, which has already choked off key energy routes and forced governments to scramble for backup supplies. To make sense of the mess, Al Jazeera compiled a series of charts that lay out where our energy comes from, how it travels, and who’s feeling the squeeze the hardest.

Where does the world’s energy come from? The biggest slice is still oil – about 31 percent of total energy – followed closely by coal (≈ 26 percent) and natural gas (≈ 24 percent). Nuclear, renewables and traditional biomass share the remaining few percent. In short, even as wind turbines dot the horizon, the bulk of our power still rides on hydrocarbons.

Production isn’t evenly spread either. The Middle East remains the heavyweight in oil, while North America leads in natural gas output. Russia and Central Asian nations also hold sizeable shares of both resources. Because so much of the world’s supply is concentrated in a handful of regions, any disruption can ripple through markets like a stone dropped in a pond.

Geography matters. The Middle East’s importance isn’t just about how much it can pump; it’s also about where its pipelines and tankers have to go. Three narrow sea lanes act as the global arteries for these fuels. On the eastern flank of the Arabian Peninsula, the Strait of Hormuz channels roughly 27 percent of all seaborne oil and nearly 20 percent of liquefied natural gas (LNG) shipments. On the western side, the Bab al‑Mandeb strait links the Red Sea to the Gulf of Aden, and the Suez Canal offers the shortcut into the Mediterranean.

Since the war erupted, both the Hormuz and Bab al‑Mandeb chokepoints have seen fewer ships. Some cargoes are being forced to circle the Cape of Good Hope – a detour that adds weeks, extra fuel costs and higher insurance premiums. “It’s probably the first time we’ve seen a major constriction of a chokepoint on this scale,” noted Richard Matthews of Gibson Shipbrokers. Unlike other narrow passages, Hormuz has no viable alternative maritime route, which is why the slowdown feels so acute.

Who feels the heat? Nations that lean heavily on Gulf oil and gas are now grappling with steeper prices, longer waiting times and the hunt for new suppliers. Eritrea and Madagascar sit at the top of the oil‑dependency list, sourcing about 90 percent of their crude from the Middle East. They’re followed by Pakistan (≈ 78 percent), Japan (≈ 77 percent) and Kenya (≈ 77 percent). When it comes to gas, Asian economies feel the pinch even more. South Korea gets roughly 31 percent of its LNG from Qatar and the UAE, India about 29 percent, Pakistan 27 percent and Taiwan 26 percent.

For many of these countries, especially the poorer importers with limited storage capacity, finding alternatives has proven a nightmare. Even where contracts remain intact, the extra cost of longer routes and heightened security is quickly passed on to consumers – think higher gasoline prices at the pump and costlier electricity bills.

Strategic reserves – the safety net that’s thinning. Most governments keep emergency oil stocks to cushion supply shocks. But the war has drained that buffer faster than anyone anticipated. The U.S. Strategic Petroleum Reserve (SPR) is now at its lowest level since the early 1980s, and overall commercial inventories are estimated at under 6 billion barrels – a number many analysts say is “not practically available” for rapid release.

The International Energy Agency (IEA) tried to plug the gap by releasing a record 400 million barrels in March, and it’s preparing another 100 million‑barrel drop to temper soaring diesel prices. Still, the market remains nervous, especially after a recent Gulf‑of‑Mexico storm and a series of attacks on Saudi facilities that threatened to curtail output again.

When it comes to sheer volume, China tops the list of nations with the biggest emergency reserves – about 1.4 billion barrels, enough to outstrip the combined reserves of the next several countries. The United States follows with roughly 413 million barrels, and Japan holds about 263 million.

All of this adds up to a fragile picture: a war that started far from the oil fields is now reshaping the very pathways that deliver fuel to our doorsteps. While the charts on Al Jazeera’s site lay out the numbers cleanly, the lived reality is far messier – price tags that jump overnight, factories that pause production, and households that feel the pinch on their utility bills.

What’s clear is that the “energy security” talk that once seemed like a distant policy buzzword has become an everyday concern for governments and ordinary citizens alike. As the conflict drags on, the world will be watching not just the battlefield, but also the pipelines, the straits, and the stockpiles that keep the lights on.