One of the clearest examples of this enduring environmental legacy is the widespread use of naval mines. During armed conflicts, thousands of mines are deployed to disrupt maritime navigation and military operations. Yet long after wars have ended, these devices often remain dormant on the seabed, posing serious threats to both shipping and marine life. Ironically, efforts to remove them can also generate significant ecological harm. Many countries rely on in-situ detonation to dispose of naval mines, producing powerful shock waves that travel vast distances underwater. Research has shown that these pressure waves can kill whales, dolphins, and seals, or cause severe internal injuries, hemorrhaging, and hearing loss. They can also impair essential behaviors such as communication, hunting, and migration—functions that depend heavily on sound signals within the marine environment.

The threat extends beyond explosions. Large quantities of wartime munitions remain submerged for decades after conflicts have ended. Over time, their metal casings corrode, releasing highly toxic compounds into surrounding waters and sediments. Studies have documented elevated concentrations of these contaminants in fish and benthic organisms living near historic munition disposal sites around the world. Such pollution threatens biodiversity and increases the risk of toxins entering and spreading through the marine food chain. In the Solomon Islands, for example, recent collaborative research by the University of Queensland and the United Nations Development Programme revealed that deteriorating World War II bombs have already begun leaching toxic chemicals into the marine environment. It is a stark reminder that wars can continue to pollute ecosystems more than eighty years after their official conclusion.

The situation unfolding today in the Arabian Gulf and the Strait of Hormuz underscores this reality with particular urgency. This strategic waterway is far more than a critical artery for global trade and energy supplies; it is also home to a unique marine ecosystem that has adapted to some of the harshest climatic conditions on Earth. With every episode of military escalation, the pressures on sea turtles, dolphins, dugongs, coral reefs, and countless other species intensify. These organisms have helped sustain a rich and interconnected ecosystem in Gulf waters for centuries. Even when the shelling ceases, underwater noise pollution, chemical contamination, unexploded ordnance, and the continued disruption of marine habitats remain persistent threats to ecological stability.

Discussions about the ethics of war should not be limited solely to the protection of civilians and the preservation of property—important as these concerns are. They should also encompass the protection of living creatures and ecosystems that have no voice with which to defend themselves. This principle is not foreign to Islamic tradition. The Prophet Muhammad (peace be upon him) instructed armies not to cut down trees or destroy palm groves during warfare, an early affirmation that conflict does not justify harming nature or spreading corruption on the earth. If Islamic teachings prohibited the destruction of a tree during battle, then the same ethical responsibility should today extend to the protection of the seas and their inhabitants. We must recognize that bringing a war to a political end does not erase its environmental consequences. True peace is achieved only when nature, too, is given the opportunity to recover.

This responsibility carries particular significance in our region. The waters of the Arabian Gulf have never been merely a geographical feature; they have been the foundation of prosperity for the peoples and nations that surround them. From its depths came the pearls that once drove regional economies. Across its waters flourished trade routes that connected civilizations. Beneath its seabed lay the oil and gas resources that transformed modern development. Its waters continue to provide the desalinated drinking water upon which millions depend, as well as fish that remain an important part of regional diets across generations.

Protecting this sea in times of both peace and war is therefore not an environmental luxury. It is the very least we can do in gratitude to a source that has long sustained our societies and remains fundamental to our collective heritage and future.