A recent leak from a Signal group chat involving senior US officials revealed detailed discussions about military strikes in Yemen—chatter that, in a moment of absurdity, accidentally included The Atlantic’s editor-in-chief, Jeffrey Goldberg. But this was more than a slip of the finger. It pulled back the curtain on the chilling indifference with which Yemeni lives are treated at the highest levels of American power.

The international response to the leak has focused on the security breach and its diplomatic fallout. But for the nearly 35 million Yemenis whose lives remain entangled in foreign agendas and violent conflict, this moment confirmed something they already knew: Yemen, once again, is an afterthought.

Strategy first, human lives last

The leaked chat involved former Trump administration officials—names like National Security Adviser Mike Waltz, CIA Director Gina Haspel, and Defense Secretary Pete Hegseth—discussing airstrikes in Yemen with startling nonchalance. Vice President JD Vance dismissed the idea of “bailing out Europe” by securing Red Sea trade routes. Hegseth agreed, calling European reliance on US support “pathetic.” The conversation focused entirely on strategy, trade, and optics. Absent were the people who would suffer from such strikes.

This is not new. Since the Houthis seized Yemen’s capital, Sana’a, in 2014, the country has been torn apart by a brutal proxy war. The Saudi-led coalition, heavily supported by the United States, has conducted a relentless bombing campaign. The result: the world’s worst humanitarian crisis, according to the United Nations.

The war in Gaza has intensified these dynamics. Following Hamas’s attack on Israel in October 2023, the Houthis escalated their attacks on international shipping in the Red Sea in a show of solidarity with Palestinians. In response, the US and its allies launched military operations—ostensibly to secure maritime routes. But for Yemenis, this was yet another chapter in a familiar pattern: being bombed not for their own actions, but for their strategic geography.

The most disturbing part of the leaked exchange wasn’t just the casual discussion of bombing Yemen—it was the tone. There was no mention of civilian casualties, no reference to international law, no hint of concern for Yemen’s sovereignty. The country was discussed not as a nation of people, but as a chessboard for Western interests.

The forgotten front

This detachment is telling. The internal US reaction to the leak centred on the embarrassment of a security lapse. There was little public reflection on the deeper ethical implications of casually plotting military action against another nation in a group chat. That such decisions can be floated so informally underscores the extent to which Yemen—and by extension, Yemeni lives—has been dehumanised in the foreign policy apparatus.

Even the Yemeni government, aligned with the US and Saudi Arabia, issued only a cautious response. Meanwhile, the Houthis seized on the leak to amplify their anti-American rhetoric, framing it as proof of Western imperialism. As usual, Yemen’s fractured political elite exploited the situation for their own ends, deepening internal divisions rather than fostering unity or accountability.

Europe, too, responded with a strategic lens. Former UK Defence Secretary Grant Shapps expressed unease about America’s aggression—but focused on European security, not Yemeni suffering. 

This is the essence of how the world sees Yemen: as a side issue.

In global discourse, Yemen is the forgotten war. Its name is invoked to signal tragedy, but rarely to inspire meaningful action. Even as international organisations decry the humanitarian crisis, they do little to address the root causes—chief among them, the unaccountable militarism of powerful states.

The leaked messages laid bare a broader truth: that the normalisation of military aggression has made it easier to ignore the lives lost in its wake. When bombing plans can be tossed around over a messaging app, with all the detachment of a business meeting, we must ask: what value is placed on Yemeni lives in the corridors of power?

The answer is clear, and it is painful. For too long, Yemen has been treated not as a sovereign nation, but as a staging ground for regional and international rivalries. The US and its allies claim to act in defence of stability and security. But in practice, they prioritise shipping lanes and political leverage over human life.

If there is any silver lining to this scandal, it is that the leak makes this reality impossible to ignore. It forces the question: who speaks for Yemen when decisions about its fate are made behind closed doors—or, in this case, on an unsecured app?

Until Yemeni lives are treated as lives—not abstractions, not collateral, not chess pieces—this cycle will continue. Military strikes will be planned in casual conversations. Empathy will be eclipsed by strategy. And Yemen will remain a forgotten front in a global game that sees its people only in the blur of satellite imagery.

It is time to demand better—from policymakers, from the media, and from a world that too often looks away.