Formula One racing with US-Iran war
Mercedes' Italian driver Kimi Antonelli races during the qualifying session for the 2026 Miami Formula One Grand Prix at Miami International Autodrome, Miami Gardens, Florida, U.S., May 2, 2026. (AFP Photo)

The war did not arrive in Formula One with headlines, but with disappearing races and a calendar that no longer feels permanent



My connection to Formula One goes back further than my writing itself. Around 25 years ago, during the early push to bring Formula One to Türkiye, a small group of young enthusiasts, myself included, spent serious time trying to help Istanbul secure its first Grand Prix. That same group later launched one of Türkiye’s first online motorsport platforms, which still operates today under an international brand. There was also access to several European manufacturer facilities during those years, not as casual visitors either. Looking back now, that whole period feels strangely distant.

I have been closely observing how the U.S.-Iran conflict affects Formula One. After late March, keeping up with the war day to day became very hard. The first days still had some structure: strikes, responses, official statements, governments reacting almost. Then the information started arriving in fragments and the overall picture mostly dissolved. Contradictory claims, half-confirmed reports, videos spreading online before anyone really knew where they came from. After a while, even people following the region closely stopped sounding certain about anything.

As for how the war is affecting the sports industry and Formula One, its impact is critical due to freight routes, insurance costs and security procedures. Travel schedules are suddenly becoming uncertain in ways teams clearly were not expecting back in January. Television still presents Formula One as smooth and controlled because that is part of the business model, really. Inside the paddock, the atmosphere has felt different for a while already, although people rarely say it directly.

As is known, Bahrain and Saudi Arabia disappeared from Formula One’s April calendar without any public announcement, a direct result of the ongoing war. Insurers pulled back, financial arrangements collapsed, and the races were simply gone. The International Automobile Federation, Formula One's governing body (FIA) and Formula One’s commercial rights holder said very little publicly afterward. Eventually, the silence itself became noticeable because every official statement around the cancellations sounded unusually measured, almost narrowed down to the safest possible wording.

Two races carrying a combined hosting fee of around $100 million disappeared while the public message remained mostly unchanged: the season continues as scheduled.

Qatar and the United Arab Emirates (UAE) are still on the calendar, though both are understood to be under ongoing review. Neither has been officially removed, and neither has been officially confirmed as fully safe either. People inside the sport have become more careful with wording around those weekends. Conversations stop halfway sometimes. Somebody changes the subject. That kind of thing.

There is another side to this discussion that Formula One still avoids addressing too openly. Gulf races were never only about sport. They were political investments, image projects, long-term positioning exercises tied directly to regional visibility and influence. That was already obvious in the late 2000s. The difference now is that the instability surrounding the region no longer stays politely outside the sport itself.

A Formula One calendar used to feel permanent once published. That feeling weakened very quickly this year. Bahrain disappeared. Saudi Arabia disappeared. Cargo routes changed within weeks. Insurance calculations shifted even faster. People inside the sport noticed long before television audiences did.

Freight and logistics have been the clearest sign of operational strain, at least from where outside observers can see. The routing plans teams had in January no longer match what is actually available now. Shipping corridors that used to be routine are either closed or suddenly expensive enough that teams need alternatives almost immediately. A logistics contact, speaking without attribution, described the situation as less than following a season plan and more as rebuilding one continuously while trying not to alarm sponsors and broadcasters.

Some of this disruption may have nothing to do with the war directly. Still, the timing makes that argument difficult to defend comfortably and most people around the paddock seem aware of that already.

Hosting fees for Gulf races run between $40 million and $60 million per event. Losing two in the same season is not a scheduling inconvenience; it leaves a financial gap that does not disappear simply by moving races around on a calendar. That cost also lands unevenly across the sport. Teams at the front on race day are not necessarily the ones absorbing most of the pressure behind closed doors.

Things inside the paddock look different from a year ago. Credential checks are stricter, bag searches appeared at entry points that previously had none, and the working press area on race weekends feels noticeably smaller now. A communications representative from one midfield team recently shut down a question about Gulf logistics almost immediately, redirected the discussion elsewhere, then moved on before the conversation settled properly.

Drivers in interviews keep mentioning fatigue and travel without saying much more than that. Several separate conversations drifted toward nearly identical concerns. That does not really look coordinated. More likely, the same pressure produces the same response from different people working inside the same atmosphere.

Some sponsors reduced their visible presence this season. Major title and partnership branding tied to larger contracts remained fairly stable, but smaller sponsorship visibility dropped noticeably during the Gulf rounds that still happened. Hospitality sections feel different, too. Smaller crowds. Fewer corporate guests linger after sessions end. Formula One usually prefers displaying confidence very openly. Lately, the atmosphere has felt tighter than that, a little less relaxed, though nobody really says so out loud.

The season is still moving forward, at least for now. Internally, the remaining races appear to be treated more as contingent than fully secure, even if public statements avoid saying that directly. Talks around the Turkish Grand Prix continue in the background. Looking at the wider regional situation, it becomes difficult not to wonder whether Formula One may already have started positioning Türkiye earlier than expected because other races suddenly stopped looking guaranteed.