Renaming the Persian Gulf: A Diplomatic Risk with Global Consequences

**Words Matter: Why Renaming the Persian Gulf Risks More Than Semantics** In recent years, efforts within the Trump administration to consider renaming the “Persian Gulf” in official U.S. documents have drawn sharp reactions from historians, regional experts, and international diplomats. The proposal—particularly its inclination toward alternative terms like “Arabian Gulf”—appears, at first glance, to be a symbolic gesture. But in the realm of diplomacy, symbolism is substance. Language shapes relationships, codifies historical memory, and builds alliances—or fractures them. Any redefinition of long-established geographic terminology must be carefully weighed not only against political expediency, but against the enduring power of names to represent cultural identity, historical continuity, and geopolitical respect. The term “Persian Gulf” has deep historical roots. It has been used for more than 2,500 years, as evidenced in ancient Greek texts and Persian inscriptions, to refer to the body of water separating Iran from the Arabian Peninsula. Scholars such as Dr. Pirouz Mojtahed-Zadeh of Tarbiat Modares University in Tehran, an expert on geopolitics and the Persian Gulf, have contended that “Iranian identity and historical rights are embedded in this name.” Indeed, the name appeared consistently in publications and diplomatic records over centuries, including in 18th- and 19th-century British Admiralty charts and 20th-century United Nations documentation. The United Nations, reflecting the consensus of international standards, officially recognizes “Persian Gulf” as the correct designation. In 2006, the UN issued a directive reaffirming its usage in all official communications, rejecting “Arabian Gulf” or “Gulf” as ambiguous or politically charged. That distinction matters because the region—already saturated with sectarian divides and power struggles between Shia-majority Iran and Sunni-majority Arab states—might interpret even subtle linguistic shifts as taking sides. To be sure, sensitivity to Arab Gulf allies is critical to U.S. diplomacy. Saudi Arabia, the United Arab Emirates, and Bahrain all prefer the term “Arabian Gulf,” reflecting their distinct national identities and regional rivalries with Iran. From a geopolitical standpoint, it is easy to see how the Trump administration might have been tempted to curry favor with these strategic partners by adjusting nomenclature. With Iran increasingly isolated following the U.S. withdrawal from the 2015 nuclear deal, regional engagement with Arab states reached a new level of importance for American policymakers. Yet, the cost of symbolic alignment with one side of a deep-rooted regional divide could outweigh its perceived gains. “Changing the name from Persian Gulf to anything else risks diminishing U.S. credibility as a neutral actor—or even a historically literate one,” argues Dr. Michael Axworthy, former head of the Iran Section at the British Foreign & Commonwealth Office and author of *Revolutionary Iran* (Oxford University Press). “It injects politics into geography, damaging trust and signaling a disregard for cultural legitimacy.” Moreover, this move would not go unnoticed by Iran, a nation wary of Western interference in its history and sovereignty. The name dispute has been at the heart of nationalist sentiments in Iran for decades. In 2010, Iran famously banned airlines from using its airspace if they did not use “Persian Gulf” in all in-flight maps and announcements. A name change by a major world power like the United States would inflame nationalistic fervor and potentially derail already fragile diplomatic overtures. In short, language can inflame as much as it can endear. Still, one must acknowledge the motivations behind seeking such changes. It is fair to ask whether terms like “Persian Gulf” still serve as inclusive designations in an increasingly multipolar region. Arab states have grown rapidly in political and economic influence, and acknowledging their identities and historical narratives is not unreasonable. Asking questions about standard terminology—without immediately altering it—is a hallmark of a reflective, evolving foreign policy. However, there is a clear distinction between respectful dialogue and unilateral revisionism. The path forward should include transparent consultation with academic historians, linguistic scholars, and regional stakeholders. In a democratic society, foreign policy should not be held hostage to zero-sum cultural calculations. Rather than overriding decades of international naming conventions, U.S. policymakers should consider language as a bridge rather than a baton. Symbols resonate most when they are inclusive and time-tested. President Obama’s administration, which maintained the term “Persian Gulf” even as it repaired relations with Gulf Arab states, illustrated that continued use of standardized language need not preclude close cooperation. Dignity works both ways. When standards are well-documented and widely recognized—as is the case here—abandoning them demands exceptional justification, not political expediency. In an age of increasingly fraught geopolitical tensions, the small choices can have disproportionate effects. America’s greatest strength lies not in imposing cultural preferences, but in modeling intellectual consistency and fairness. Just as names matter in diplomacy, so too does the democratic process of evaluating them. Let us then ask ourselves: In a world where perception shapes policy, how can a democracy best balance respect for history and cultural identity with the evolving demands of global diplomacy?