Yemen's Operation Dawn: Success Isn't Just About Territory

Two days after Yemen's internationally recognized government launched a counteroffensive dubbed "Operation Yemen Dawn," its forces have retaken territory from the Houthis along the Red Sea coast near the Bab al-Mandeb strait. The Saudi-led coalition has deployed 100 fighter jets flying continuous sorties to help secure the strait. In response, the Houthis claimed to have struck targets inside Saudi territory.

It is the most serious escalation in Yemen's war since the UN-brokered ceasefire of 2022. For four years, the conflict held as a frozen war. Now both sides are trying to redraw the map.

In the days ahead, the campaign's success will be decided not only by advances on three separate fronts, but by whether forces loyal to the Yemeni government can stay united and force the Houthis to recalculate the cost of continuing the fight.

Keeping the Houthis stretched

The western coast is where the campaign will be won or lost, and the reason lies beyond Yemen. As Iran disrupts traffic through the Strait of Hormuz, the Red Sea has become the Gulf's strategic lifeline. Saudi Arabia's East-West pipeline to Yanbu is the main route bypassing Hormuz, but crude shipped from Yanbu to Asian markets still has to pass through Bab al-Mandeb.

Houthi control of the Yemeni coast at the strait turns that bypass into a hostage. The Arabian Peninsula would then be squeezed at both ends at once — a scenario no Gulf capital and few oil-importing economies could endure for long.

There is a paradox here too: the Houthis' biggest gain this year — territory near Bab al-Mandeb — may also be their most vulnerable position. Their traditional strength lies in the northern mountains, where terrain, tribal networks and short supply lines create a defensive advantage.

The Tihama plain is the opposite: flat, far from highland bases, with long and exposed supply lines and little cover from sustained air power.

If the government can win decisively anywhere, it is here. The immediate objective is not necessarily to defeat the Houthis outright, but to push them away from the strait, retake the islands and strip them of the ability to turn geography into regional leverage.

The second decisive front is Taiz. The city is the hinge between the Houthi-held north, the government-held south and the western coastal battlefield. If the Houthis keep cutting the Aden road, any wider offensive is split in two. If government forces reopen the route, they gain territorial continuity between Aden, Taiz and the coast.

The third front is Marib province, where fighting has escalated at the Raghwan front and possibly in al-Jawf.

Despite bold statements from the Yemeni government, an early march on Sanaa remains unlikely. A more feasible strategy is cumulative pressure: if the coast, Taiz and Marib are squeezed at once, the Houthis will struggle to concentrate manpower, missiles, drones and logistics on any single axis. The government need not break through everywhere; it needs to keep the Houthis stretched.

Support isn't the problem — cohesion is

Yemen's government has rarely lacked outside backing. Its repeated failure has been converting that support into unified Yemeni military power. Saudi Arabia remains the decisive player, and its motives are now more direct than abstract: Aramco facilities have been attacked, Saudi-linked shipping has been declared a target, and the main route bypassing Hormuz has been exposed.

The deployment of 100 aircraft shows Riyadh is willing to invest heavily.

Air power can destroy positions, cut supply lines and break up force concentrations, but it cannot hold territory. That requires Yemeni forces fighting under a unified command chain, supporting local authorities to operate and sustaining political arrangements that prevent factional infighting.

Here, the anti-Houthi side is said to be weaker than at any point in the war. The Southern Transitional Council, which launched its own offensive across the south in December 2025, was dissolved in January after a Saudi-backed counterpush, and its leader, Aidarous al-Zubaidi, left the country. Southern units that once fought under its banner remain armed and capable, but they have no political roof, and their loyalty to the Yemeni government is conditional.

Alongside them, Tareq Saleh's National Resistance Forces on the coast, the Giants Brigade and units aligned with the Islah party in Taiz and Marib answer to different leaderships, regional priorities and foreign patrons.

The Houthis, by contrast, possess a centralized political and military command.

That asymmetry is the campaign's biggest weakness. If it is waged through fragmented chains of command, gains will be temporary: rival forces will fight over captured territory, revenue and power, and the Houthis will regroup and counterattack.

Aware of this, Yemen's government has begun preparing to pay salaries and carry out reconstruction in retaken areas. That is the right instinct. A town taken by airstrikes but left with no pay and no administration will not be held. The effort needs to be sustained.

A turning point?

The campaign should not be judged by whether it captures Sanaa. That benchmark is maximal and almost guarantees a verdict of failure. The better question is whether it makes the conflict ripe for resolution.

In the language of conflict research, parties negotiate seriously when they see a mutually hurting stalemate. Since 2022, the stalemate has hurt Yemenis, the government, Saudi Arabia and global shipping — but not the Houthis, who have every reason to believe time is on their side. The purpose of Operation Yemen Dawn, properly understood, is not total victory but changing the Houthis' assessment of the cost of continued confrontation.

There is a complication. Houthi calculations are no longer purely Yemeni. Their decisions are now tied to Tehran's war and its negotiations with Washington. Even significant battlefield losses may not produce flexibility within the group if its leadership believes concessions should be traded in a broader regional deal. A Yemen-only settlement may therefore depend partly on progress in a negotiation Yemenis do not control.

In the coming weeks, four indicators will show which way the war is turning: whether government forces can retake and hold the coast and the strait's islands; whether the Taiz-Aden road is reopened; whether the Houthis are forced to pull forces from Taiz to defend the coast and Marib; and whether retaken areas fall under a unified command and receive salaries and services.

If most of this happens, the war's strategic structure could shift. If government forces make only minor gains, suffer heavy losses or turn on each other, the Houthis will claim to have survived yet another externally backed campaign — a narrative that will reinforce their belief that they can outlast their opponents.

All of this is unfolding against a deepening humanitarian catastrophe. The World Health Organization has recorded more than 5,000 casualties since early August, nearly 200,000 people displaced and a tripling of suspected cholera cases. A campaign that ignores this will quickly exhaust international patience, as happened with the 2018 drive to retake Hodeidah, when government forces came under pressure to halt to avert a humanitarian disaster.

So this campaign is not a turning point but the start of a test. Yemen's government must do what it has struggled with throughout the war: turn external support into unified political authority and durable military power. If it fails, the Houthis will emerge from yet another round more convinced than ever that time remains on their side.

The views expressed in this article are the author's own and do not necessarily reflect Al Jazeera's editorial stance.