It could be argued that Yemen’s conflict is merely a symptom of the Middle East’s wider geopolitical issues. Others might say it is a cause in itself, or a contributing factor. But one thing can be agreed: 35 years since its unification between the northern and southern halves of the country – the former once controlled by the Ottomans and the latter once controlled by the British – the country remains more fragmented than ever.
In 2014, the Houthis – a tribal militia and religious group from northern Yemen's poor, mountainous Saada region that had evolved into a major political and military force – took over Sanaa, the country’s capital. In doing so, the militants, with backing from Iran, removed Yemen’s internationally recognised government and went on to expand their rule to most of Yemen's north, where more than half of the country's population lives.
This remains the situation today, even after a Saudi-led military coalition helped take back swathes of land from the Houthis in a multi-year war and prevented the rebel group from overrunning the entire country. But this is not a simple, good versus evil conflict; Yemen's present-day divisions are multi-layered and multi-faceted.
An eight-member Presidential Leadership Council acts as the executive body of Yemen's internationally recognised government. Led by Rashad Al Alimi, the PLC was supposed to unite an otherwise divided anti-Houthi front. But tensions within the council are a poorly kept secret. Earlier this month, prime minister Ahmed bin Mubarak said he was stepping down after a little more than a year in office, blaming challenges he faced in making "necessary reforms" to state institutions.
With different council members having strong military representation on the ground, the PLC has become a tool for exerting power rather than governance. This is largely down to the absence of a proper legal framework regulating the PLC’s operations and defining its members' relationship to one another. The ambiguity surrounding the group’s exact functions and authority on the ground has inevitably resulted in allegations of overreach and corruption against some of the forces under its members’ control.
The result of this is a fractured government incapable of asserting itself against militarily and politically against the Houthis’ formidable forces. This has knock-on effects for the PLC’s ability to provide effective governance for the people living in its territories. In Aden, the interim capital, the halls of Yemen's government have remained largely empty as officials fail to hold the meetings needed to move the country forward. Outside, the streets are frequently filled with protesters calling for better services and a higher standard of living. There is a lack of reliable electricity. The city is often without power – a potentially deadly outcome in Yemen’s scorching summer heat, in which temperatures can exceed 40°C. Protesters have also focused on what they see as an overall worsening quality of life as well as the decline in the value of the Yemeni riyal.
Constitutional reform that clarifies and limits the role of the PLC’s members while strengthening the government as a whole would go a long way to resolving these issues. It would help to improve governance on the ground and the ability to provide basic services and provide a better quality of life for people who have escaped Houthi-run areas to government-held territory.
In the meantime, the Houthis continue to fire ballistic missiles towards Israel and ships in the Red Sea that they claim are linked to Israeli commercial interests, ostensibly in protest at its unrelenting offensive in Gaza. Yemen’s government has long been cut out of attempts to reach a peace deal with the Houthis, whether in 2023 when Saudi Arabia brokered a roadmap for a permanent ceasefire or, more recently, when US President Donald Trump announced a deal to end American air strikes on Houthi-held territory.
Yemen’s situation is becoming even more complex with a secessionist Southern Transitional Council that not only calls for the south's independence – a return to Yemen’s pre-1990 partition – but also holds three out of the PLC's eight seats.
A silver lining could be seen if the situation in Yemen were clearer and – even if bad – at least stable. But it's not. Matters have become worse, with US and Israeli forces targeting vital facilities like the port of Hodeidah, a lifeline for millions of Yemenis who rely on the humanitarian assistance that flows through it. Such attacks have put Yemen’s already fragile humanitarian response at further risk, worsening people's lives further still, fuelling their anger and deepening rifts between them and those in power.
Meanwhile, amid Yemen’s enduring poverty and even as conflicts continue to rage in Gaza and Sudan, funding is dwindling for humanitarian relief efforts. In February, the World Health Organisation’s Yemen country office appealed for $57.8 million to reach more than 10 million people with emergency health assistance.
Yemenis who have lost faith in their respective rulers – whether in Houthi or government-controlled areas – are now looking elsewhere for hope. Talks between the US and Iran about a new nuclear agreement are continuing and experts believe that Iran could make concessions, including pulling its financial and intelligence support to the Houthis in exchange for sanctions relief.
The declaration of the Republic of Yemen on May 22, 1990, was a decisive moment for the country. But the optimism that greeted this new start has long since faded. Whether Yemen’s conflict is the cause of some of today’s problems in the Middle East, or simply a reflection of them is a moot point for ordinary Yemeni civilians who, once again, have fallen victim to decisions made by local and regional powers, when all they really need is food on the table, hospitals to treat them and a nation they can call home.
