By Prof. Micheline Ishay

Abstract

This paper serves two purposes:

First, it draws on Middle Eastern railway history to argue that rival powers can build durable infrastructure together when their competition is channeled into shared institutions. That history informs policy advocacy, as this paper is addressed to the people now shaping IMEC itself: the G20 signatories, EU officials weighing port and financing decisions, civil societies, and the states deciding whether still missing partners become real stakeholders.

Second, beyond IMEC’s original arterial corridor design, conceived in New Delhi in 2023, this paper also argues for capillaries that will build economic resilience along the way. To ground this argument, it breaks IMEC into four concrete zones: the India-Gulf route, the Jordan hub, the Israel-Palestine nexus, and the European and Mediterranean Ports – presenting innovative and granular maps that illustrate how each segment can be both self-sufficient and ultimately integrated into the larger project.

 Introduction

One hundred years ago,  the famous French journalist Albert Londres called Marseille “a monumental gateway through which pass, in constant flux and reflux, the hundred faces of the vast world.”^[1] The year was 1926, during the same decade in which the ports and railways of Palestine and greater Syria were being stitched together into an integrated system of transport. The Hejaz line was running from Damascus toward Medina, Palestine Railways would unify the coastal route under

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^[1] Albert Londres, “Marseille, porte du Sud,” serialized 1926, published as “Marseille, porte du Sud” (Paris: Les Éditions de France, 1927). The full passage reads: “Je ne connais pas les armes de l’écu de Marseille… une porte monumentale, où passeraient, flux et reflux, les cent visages du vaste monde.”

British administration, and a traveler could easily step off a Messageries Maritimes steamer in Beirut or Jaffa and board a train heading east.^[2]

This transportation by rail did not happen seamlessly, and the tensions that occasioned its construction offer lessons for IMEC today.

At the turn of the twentieth century, none of the Middle East railways were conceived as a single system; none were products of geopolitical alignment and none were finished as planned. They were built in an unfolding web of  rivalries, improvised financing, conflict ridden concessions, and the sheer pressure of strategic necessity. And yet they were built. Segment by segment, deal by deal, they connected a competing and volatile world.

The competition was intense. Germany wanted Baghdad and the Gulf. France wanted Damascus and the Levantine trade. Britain wanted Egypt and to ensure nobody else got there first. The Ottomans wanted sovereignty and modernity, and the ability to play the Europeans against each other. Every concession was a move in this game. In that sense, the historical development of the rail network reflected a broader competition between regional and external forces.

But underneath the competition, coordination was continuous. The Ottoman Public Debt Administration, established in 1881, brought representatives of Britain, France,

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^[2] On the Hejaz Railway and the Palestine rail network in the 1920s, see Jacob Norris, “Land of Progress: Palestine in the Age of Colonial Development, 1905–1948” (Oxford University Press, 2013).

Germany, Austria-Hungary, Italy, the Netherlands, and the Ottoman Empire to the same table.^[3] Competing creditor nations managed a shared financial architecture that served all their interests simultaneously. By 1900 it was financing railway construction across the empire on a scale no single power could have managed alone.^[4] The pioneering railway company Wagons-Lits negotiated operating agreements with national railways across Europe to run the Orient Express across multiple borders—arrangements that were sustained for decades, unknown to passengers, yet indispensable to the system.^[5] Even the Baghdad Railway, the most geopolitically charged project of the era, produced a formal Anglo-German-Ottoman agreement in 1913, admitting British representatives to its board and fixing shared terms for the route.^[6] The outbreak of World War I prevented ratification and the Ottoman empire broke up four years later. More than a century later, it is not too soon to revive and complete such important projects.

During those initial years of progress, competition and coordination operated simultaneously, through the same institutions, on the same lines. The competition gave everyone a reason to build. The coordination created a framework that transcended the competition.

IMEC is already following a similar dynamic. Signed at the G20 in New Delhi in September 2023 by eight parties — India, the United States, Saudi Arabia, the UAE, France, Germany, Italy, and the European Union —it was conceived as a strategic arterial corridor and an explicit alternative to China’s Belt and Road.^[7] The competition is visible and obvious. What is less visible, and more consequential, is the coordination layer being created at the same time.

The Gaza war, spreading into a regional conflict, stalled early momentum. The 2026 Iran war and the closure of the Strait of Hormuz are rewriting energy routes and making more urgent overland alternatives to Gulf shipping lanes. Turkey is demanding inclusion. European ports are competing for the western terminal. New

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^[3] The Ottoman Public Debt Administration (Düyun-u Umumiye) was established by the Decree of Muharrem on 20 December 1881. Its multinational council represented creditors from Britain, France, Germany, Austria-Hungary, Italy, and the Netherlands. See Christopher Clay, “Gold for the Sultan: Western Bankers and Ottoman Finance 1856–1881” (London: I.B. Tauris, 2000);

^[4] Donald Quataert, “Ottoman Reform and Agriculture in Anatolia, 1876–1908” (University of California Press, 1973)

^[5] The Compagnie Internationale des Wagons-Lits (CIWL) was founded by Georges Nagelmackers in 1872–76 and launched the Orient Express service in June 1883 between Paris and Constantinople. The company contracted with national state railways in each country for haulage while providing through-ticketing and sleeping-car service.

^[6] An Anglo-Ottoman agreement on the Baghdad Railway was reached in 1913, with two British representatives approved by HM Government admitted to the Board of the Baghdad Railway Company. A further Anglo-German agreement along similar lines was signed in London on 15 June 1914 but never ratified owing to the outbreak of war. See “Baghdad Railway,” Military History Wiki, https://military-history.fandom.com/wiki/Baghdad_railway; and Jonathan S. McMurray, “Distant Ties: Germany, the Ottoman Empire, and the Construction of the Baghdad Railway” (Westport, CT: Praeger, 2001).

^[7] Memorandum of Understanding on the India–Middle East–Europe Economic Corridor (IMEC), signed at the G20 Summit, New Delhi, 9 September 2023. Signatories: India, United States, Saudi Arabia, UAE, France, Germany, Italy, and the European Union.

Gulf rail routes are being studied that could complement or bypass the original design.

None of this should be daunting for political and investment decisions that call for shared vision. Current challenges, after all, resemble those of the Ottoman era: multiple powers, competing visions, and urgent shared interests. The question is whether IMEC develops its equivalent of the Ottoman Public Debt Administration (OPDA) and Wagons-Lits: a financial architecture that aligns incentives across competing investors, and the operational agreements that allow different national segments to function as one corridor. That coordination layer will not build itself. It requires deliberative work, reconciling competing visions long before the railroad lines are completed. That is the lesson to be drawn from the old regional railways. And it is the work that remains to be carried forward.

But to move forward, we need to remind ourselves what IMEC actually is and envision what it needs to become. In its 2023 form, IMEC is an arterial declaration: a spine of trade signed into existence at a G20 summit, connecting India to Europe via the Gulf. That spine matters. It creates a framework, signals political will, and establishes the competitive alternative to China’s Belt and Road that its eight signatories intended. It creates a triangular economic architecture: India as a manufacturing and services hub, the Gulf as a logistics, energy, and capital platform, and Europe as a technology and consumption center. But an artery without capillaries does not sustain life. What will determine whether IMEC succeeds over the long term is not the trunk line; it is the network of corridors, industrial parks, and port connections that embed it within the economies through which it passes. Those capillaries make the project an instrument of human development, not just of trade volume.

This is not a peripheral concern. The northern sections of the Hejaz Railway, from  Damascus to Amman, survived because they had become economically indispensable to the communities along the route.^[8] Its southern sections, from Ma’an to Medina, built primarily to project Ottoman military control over the Arabian provinces, were sabotaged during the Arab Revolt and never restored. The empire left, and the logistics line went with it. The trade route remained. Infrastructure that serves only outside strategic or financial interests, without generating employment, industrial capacity, and resilience for surrounding populations, is unlikely to last.

To last, the proposed vision cannot be a geopolitical design championed only by regional and foreign governments and the business community. It must be openly discussed and debated by respective civil societies, who are also key stakeholders and beneficiaries.

With this in mind, IMEC should be understood, this paper further argues, not as one corridor but as four interconnected zones, each with its own strategic logic and resilient network. The following maps these four zones: the India and the Gulf (zone 1); the Jordanian Hub and the Eastern Mediterranean (zone 2) ; The Israel/Palestine nexus (zone 3); The European and Mediterranean ports (zone 4).

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^[8] The northern sections of the Hejaz Railway between Damascus and Amman continued in use for freight and, until 2011, passenger service. The southern section from Ma’an to Medina was put out of operation during the Arab Revolt of 1916–1917 and never restored. See Encyclopædia Britannica, “Hejaz Railway,” https://www.britannica.com/topic/Hejaz-Railway

Zone 1: India and the Gulf

The India–Gulf zone, connecting Indian ports to the Arabian Peninsula, is the most commercially mature segment. Yet it continues to expand, with India’s new deep-water port at Vadhavan, the UAE’s Etihad Rail network, and Saudi Arabia’s expanding logistics infrastructure around Riyadh and the Red Sea coast.^[9] The Strait of Hormuz crisis has added urgency here: with Gulf shipping lanes disrupted, the case for overland alternatives and ports outside the Strait’s port access—Fujairah, Sohar, Muscat, Salalah, and Duqm—has moved from strategic preference to operational necessity. India’s trade with the Gulf Cooperation Council exceeds $180 billion annually, and the Gulf states have both the capital and the political incentive to move fast. ^[10] Saudi Arabia’s Vision 2030 explicitly frames logistics as a post-oil economic pillar; the UAE has staked its regional role on being the indispensable hub. These are not reluctant partners; they are competing to anchor the corridor’s eastern routes, and that competition, properly channeled, is itself a resource.

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^[9] Government of India, Ministry of Ports, Shipping and Waterways, “Vadhavan Port Development,” 2024; Etihad Rail, Annual Report 2023; and Saudi Vision 2030 Logistics Sector Report, 2023.

^[10] India–Arab Cooperation Council, Trade and Investment Report 2024; and Ministry of Commerce and Industry, Government of India, bilateral trade statistics 2023–24.

Zone 2: The Jordan Hub and the Eastern Mediterranean

The second and most complex zone is the Jordan hub, the pivot point where the Gulf meets the Levant and where the corridor’s human development challenge is most exposed. Jordan’s geographic position is critical: it sits at the intersection of five to six potential segments, connecting north to Syria, Lebanon and Turkey, south to Saudi Arabia and through Aqaba to the Red Sea, east to Iraq, west toward Israel, Palestinian cities, and Egypt. It is the only stable overland corridor between the Gulf and the Levant with functioning border infrastructure and working relationships with every relevant party. No other state along the route combines Jordan’s locational centrality with its political neutrality. That is a geopolitical advantage that cannot easily be replicated.

The problem is that Jordan lacks a rail and logistics backbone. Without investment in domestic infrastructure (including freight rail, dry ports, special economic zones, and cross-border logistics) Jordan cannot serve as a functioning hub. The financing gap is real and has been documented; it will not close without a dedicated multilateral instrument, whether through the EU’s Connecting Europe Facility, Gulf sovereign funds, or a purpose-built IMEC financing vehicle of the kind the Ottoman Public Debt Administration once provided.^[11] Beyond Jordan, the broader zone — Egypt, Lebanon as it rebuilds, and the Palestinian territories — represents the human development frontier of the entire corridor. These are the populations most in need of the employment and stability that embedded infrastructure can generate, and most at risk if the corridor remains a transit route that passes over them rather than through them. [Jordan is the natural connection to the Palestinian territories and Israel and it includes the large Irbid industrial park between Amman and Haifa]. For the Palestinian territories in particular, economic integration into a functioning regional network is not a secondary benefit of IMEC; it is  a credible

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^[11] European Commission, “Trans-European Transport Network (TEN-T) Policy,” https://transport.ec.europa.eu/transport-themes/infrastructure-and-investment/trans-european-transport-network-ten-t_en; and World Bank, “Jordan Economic Monitor,” Spring 2024.

structural contribution the corridor could make to long-term stabilization.^[12] The risk of neglecting this zone is not merely humanitarian. Infrastructure that bypasses its immediate neighbors has historically been sabotaged by them. The Hejaz Railway’s southern sections are the cautionary tales. Corridors that serve the communities along their routes are the ones that endure.

Zone 3: The Israel-Palestine Nexus

^[12] UNCTAD, “Trade and Development Report on the Palestinian Economy,” 2023; and World Bank, “Assessing the Economic Impact of Conflict in the West Bank and Gaza,” 2024.

While the Jordan hub is the missing link, the most natural route to the Mediterranean is via Haifa, as envisioned originally by IMEC (2023). Compared to the Arab world and the Palestinian territories, Israel's existing rail network is already well developed and widely diffused. That said, the track will halt at Israel's borders if regional and international stakeholders judge this critical zone too volatile, whether for political or financial reasons. If that happens, IMEC risks remaining a chimera, missing an opportunity to provide economic resilience and security for the Palestinian and Israeli inhabitants from the Jordan River to the Mediterranean Sea.

IMEC's connecting branches in Zone 3 will therefore need to build a corridor positioning Gaza and the West Bank as integrated gateways within the broader regional network. At the outset, these connections rely on existing and planned Israeli routes, offering eight segments that connect directly or indirectly into IMEC, and creating the foundation for human, social, and economic development, sovereign Palestinian governance, and sustainable peace and security.

From Gaza, the first priority is connecting to the North-South Coastal Axis: a slow reconstruction of the old Ottoman-era Hejaz line, building on existing infrastructure and redevelopment along the coast. The route already runs north from Sderot, through Tel Aviv and Haifa to Nahariya, but the old line would be rebuilt to Beirut, and extended southeast from Sderot/Gaza to El Arish and Port Said. Second, this North-South spine will connect to the East–West IMEC Axis, already functioning from Haifa to Beit She'an, but needing to be extended to Irbid (Jordan) and Amman. A third route is a Southeast Desert Axis, where rail already connects Sderot and Be’er Sheva with Dimona. Two additional extensions are possible. The first would extend from Dimona across the border to the Jordanian North-South Spine, providing northward access to Amman and beyond, and southward connections to Aqaba or Saudi Arabia. A second extension would proceed from Dimona to Eilat (Israel) and Aqaba (Jordan). Finally, a fourth link would connect Gaza directly to the West Bank through Sderot and an eastward route to Hebron.

From the West Bank, a short extension from Jenin to Afula would connect to the IMEC West-East Route, extending from Afula either west to Haifa or east to Beit She'an and on to Irbid (Jordan) by way of an expanded King Hussein Bridge. Within the West Bank itself, an internal arc route would link the major Palestinian population centers, and a new north-south Jordan Valley line could be connected to Amman and the Jordanian North-South spine by means of a short link eastward from Jericho.

Within Israel, the rail structure resembles a ladder, with two north-south vertical lines linked by east-west connections. The coastal North-South Axis, already connecting Sderot, Tel Aviv, Haifa, Acre, and Nahariya, could extend north to Beirut, echoing the old Hejaz route, and south along the coast from Sderot/Gaza to El Arish (Egypt). The second North-South line, running parallel to the coast in the east, is not quite completed, but it will connect Be’er Sheva to Caesarea, with east-west connections to the coastal route. The Southeast Desert Axis would stretch beyond the existing Beersheva-to-Dimona line to Jordan and KSA. It would extend either to Eilat (Israel) and on to Aqaba (Jordan), or from Dimona to Jordan’s North-South Spine, bringing access to Ma'an (Jordan) and Tabuk/NEOM (Saudi Arabia) in the south or to Amman and other international connections to the north. These existing and expanded rail axes (for passengers and freight) will produce integral mobility – an essential feature for tolerance, coexistence and sustainable peace.

Along these lines, jobs would be created to sustain the local economies, and particularly developed decent Palestinian jobs. Approximately 35 industrial zones already exist in the West Bank, including the Jordanian Gateway – a joint initiative between Israel and Jordan.^[13] They include heavy industries like metals, chemicals, plastics, and cement, alongside technology parks and commercial complexes. While economically active, these industrial zones have both helped and deepened Palestinian dependency. Palestinian workers face an unequal labor market marked by low wages and legal vulnerability.^[14] Palestinian investment flowing into these zones has dwindled in recent years; and territorial fragmentation keeps driving up

^[13] MAS (Palestine Economic Policy Research Institute), Settlement Industrial Zones and the Palestinian Economy, https://mas.ps/en/publications/13861.html. (Accessed July 17)

^[14] U.S. Department of State, 2025 Investment Climate Statements: West Bank and Gaza, noting that Israeli labor laws applying to settlements "are not enforced uniformly,"https://www.state.gov/reports/2025-investment-climate-statements/west-bank-and-gaza.

trade and transport costs.^[15] Polluting industries relocate there, taking advantage of weak regulation. And agricultural land is steadily absorbed by Jewish settlers’ occupation, threatening food security.^[16]

Critics may quickly assert  that expanding on the existing unequal investments in these zones would render the Palestinian population even more dependent upon Israel. Hence the importance of creating more decent and equitable job opportunities strengthening Palestinian economic independence within the Palestinian territories and beyond. After all, major economic inequity leads to resentment, which spirals quickly into violence. Hence, a useful response to these critics would be to channel investment and infrastructure planning into industrial zones that are Palestinian-controlled, sited on Palestinian land, and connected to Palestinian-run trade corridors. That would also entail building enforceable labor and environmental standards from the start. In this way, industrial capacity would build local economic sovereignty instead of external dependency.

This same approach could be applied in Gaza once reconstruction begins. Domestically anchored industrial zones, strong labor protections, direct trade linkages, and safeguards for agricultural land and water resources would give Gaza a rare opportunity: building industrial infrastructure from the ground up on genuinely independent terms, rather than repeating the dependency patterns prevalent  in the West Bank.

Independence could lead to workforce integration in some outposts. A next-generation Negev industrial site — like Idan HaNegev Industrial Park — could this time include Israeli minorities (Negev Bedouin and Palestinian) and non-Israeli Palestinian entrepreneurs from Gaza and the West Bank as equitable, full partners. This reality would be  made logistically possible by rail access along the Southeast Desert Axis. Done right, this would give all these communities a direct stake in the corridor's success.

Palestinian economic independence does not run counter to regional integration: it makes it more viable. Lasting integration rests on a foundation of economic independence and dignity. In the long run, this approach can pave the road to sustained Israeli and Palestinian security and deter spoilers; a lesson to be drawn from the Ottoman period and the decades that ensued.

^[15]U.S. Department of State, 2025 Investment Climate Statements: West Bank and Gaz, Ibid. UNCTAD, Occupation, Fragmentation and Poverty in the West Bank (Dec. 2024),https://www.un.org/unispal/document/unctad-report-05dec24/. (Accessed July 17)

^[16] UNCTAD, same report, on Area C's role as an "adverse economic zone" and its effect on agricultural land and resources. (Accessed July 17); World Bank, West Bank and Gaza country overview, on the Palestinian Fund for Reconstruction and Development (PFRD) and the conditions attached to Gaza re-engagement, https://www.worldbank.org/ext/en/country/westbankandgaza.

Zone 4: The European and Mediterranean Ports

The fourth zone comprises European ports to northern Europe; this western terminal competition is already live. From east to west, to cite a few important ports: Limassol, Larnarca (Cyprus), Alexandroupoli, Thessaloniki, Piraeus (Greece), Trieste (Italy), and Marseille (France) have been positioning for primacy among the IMEC terminal ports. Germany is linking IMEC to the Three Seas Initiative, strengthening the position of Alexandroupoli in the IMEC ports club. ^[17] Italy has branded it the Cotton Route, appointed a special envoy, and is pushing Trieste as the gateway to Central and Eastern Europe. Marseille, with its historic Mediterranean position, is certain to be a main anchor to the west. France appointed its own envoy and hosted the first IMEC Sherpa meeting in June 2025. Such competition generates investment, political commitment, and port modernization, but it also carries the corridor’s most acute coordination risk. Investment decisions are being made simultaneously by competing actors, producing the duplication and political friction that prevented the Ottoman Baghdad Railway from reaching the Gulf for two decades. The danger is not that any single port wins; it is that none achieves the scale necessary to anchor the corridor’s western end, and that IMEC arrives at Europe as a set of competing bilateral deals rather than a unified system. The EU has the institutional tools to prevent this outcome: Trans-European Transport Network (TEN-T) designation, Connecting Europe Facility (CEF) financing, and the regulatory leverage to set interoperability standards across member states.^[18] What it has not yet done is use those tools to build the coordination framework, the Wagons-Lits equivalent for the

^[17] On European port competition for the IMEC western terminal, see European Commission, “IMEC and European Connectivity Strategy,” 2024; Italian Government, “Via della Seta/Cotton Route Initiative,” 2024; and French Ministry of Foreign Affairs, “IMEC Sherpa Meeting, Marseille, June 2025.

^[18] On TEN-T and CEF frameworks, see Regulation (EU) 2021/1153 of the European Parliament and of the Council of 7 July 2021 establishing the Connecting Europe Facility; and European Commission, “Trans-European Transport Network Guidelines,” Regulation (EU) No 1315/2013.

twenty-first century, that allows the best-positioned ports to complement rather than undermine each other.

Should that framework take shape, the gains will be substantial. Europe secures supply chain diversification away from over-reliance on Chinese manufacturing and Suez-routed shipping. Each competing port stands to attract new investment, upgrade its hinterland connections, and deepen its role in European logistics.

Beyond the India-Middle East Corridor, Europe’s access to North Africa also remains critical. With already heavy maritime traffic between Europe and Egypt (and at a different scale with Algeria and Tunisia), it is not surprising that Europe is seeing Morocco as a way to complement IMEC with an additional strategic window to North Africa. It is already operational and heavily trafficked as ferries and container ships cross the Strait of Gibraltar daily between Tanger Med, now one of the largest ports in the Mediterranean, and the Spanish ports of Algeciras and Valencia. Rail connectivity, however, stops at the water's edge — Morocco has its own domestic network, including a high-speed line linking Tangier, Rabat and Casablanca, but no fixed rail link crosses into Europe or across North Africa. A long-discussed undersea tunnel between Punta Paloma, Spain, and Tangier (roughly 60 kilometers) remains in the feasibility-study phase, with no confirmed construction timeline.^[19] Until that changes, the corridor functions as a maritime bridge rather than a continuous rail route.

^[19] "Spain, Morocco Move Closer to Building Strait of Gibraltar Tunnel," Morocco World News, April 10, 2026, https://www.moroccoworldnews.com/2026/04/286561/spain-morocco-move-closer-to-building-strait-of-gibraltar-tunnel/ (accessed July 17, 2026)

Conclusion

The Ottoman-era railways were never planned as a single system, and neither will be IMEC. The Hejaz line, the Baghdad Railway, the Palestine Railways, and the Orient Express endured past the empire that commissioned them through a combination of coordination. IMEC's four zones, including the India-Gulf corridor, the fragile yet pivotal Jordan hub, the contested Israel-Palestine nexus, and the competing European terminals, will be built today under similar conditions. They tell the story of multiple powers, overlapping ambitions, and complicated collaborations.

Success and failure, now as then, hinge on whether competition gets channeled into some shared architecture — a modern Public Debt Administration, a modern Wagons-Lits, an EU willing to use the TEN-T and other such mechanisms to knit competing ports into multiple self-sufficient systems. The same logic holds for the core of human development, particularly in Zones 2 and 3. Jordan's promise lies not in sitting at the intersection of five or six potential segments, but in the mobility, dry ports, and industrial zones that could improve the lives of Jordanians, Palestinians, Israelis, Syrians, Lebanese, Egyptians, and Iraqis drawn into its orbit. Zone 3's promise, in turn, rests not on rail lines crossing the Jordan River, but on all the communities gaining an actual stake in those lines. The historical southern Hejaz line served only outside interests, and was therefore easily sabotaged and never rebuilt. Yet the parts of the historical rail network that were embedded in local economies survived a century later. The same view applies here;  for the IMEC infrastructure to endure, it will need to serve the people of the region with ports, industrial zones, digital connectivity, and energy systems designed for sustainability and resilience.

As the tentacles of the Hejaz and Palestinian lines still offered the prospect of an integrated Levant, Albert Londres reported from British Mandate Palestine in 1929 on a region being pulled apart: the riots and massacres of that year turning neighbor against neighbor, hardening lines between communities that had shared streets, markets, and rail platforms only a decade before. IMEC's four zones have learned from that history and propose an opposite path: a web of capillaries supporting resilient local economies, financed by rivals and connecting political adversaries who need each other more than they may today admit. Where Londres saw a region tearing apart, an evolving IMEC now recognizes rails and corridors as sutures of cooperation.

It is time to build regional co-governance, segment by segment, with foreign powers as partners; it is time to make people’s history for the MENA region and beyond.