Some historians assert that access to oil was a factor in Britain’s decision to try to force the Dardanelles in 1915. Others disagree. Still, nobody doubts that the Middle East’s oil was emerging as a major geopolitical factor at the time, and many of the military decisions in the area were deeply rooted in concern about controlling this critical resource. Persia (Iran), Mesopotamia (Iraq) and all the other names that still resound in our daily news feeds were already central to global empire planning. And here we are today: a blockaded strait, a naval stand-off and a threatened invasion of a rocky and inhospitable shore. Thought about this way, Anzac Day 2026 might have an unusual resonance for those who like to think about history, rather than just wave flags.

In the late 19th century, when Britannia ruled the waves, the First Sea Lord, John “Jackie” Fisher, was nicknamed “the oil maniac” by many of his naval contemporaries. That’s because he was a fervent believer in the then relatively novel idea that the mighty British navy ought to use oil instead of coal as the main fuel for its ships. Oil was tried in British destroyers and the experiment was promising. Oil-powered ships were lighter, had a longer range, needed smaller crews and could carry stronger armour. In time the obvious advantages settled the matter and by the time World War 1 loomed most new warships were being built to run on oil.

In those years it wasn’t yet quite clear where all the world’s oil resources lay. Russia had a lot in its Baku oilfields, some of which it exported via pipelines, but everybody knew there was plenty of the stuff in the region long known as the Middle East. Oil had been found in Persia (now Iran) in 1908 and the Anglo Persian Oil Company was formed to exploit it. There was oil in Mesopotamia too, in the region now known as Iraq. And as the realisation dawned that this black slimy product was going to be strategically vital, many minds began to consider how best to secure supplies – especially as a major war threatened.

The Admiralty was on board with the need to secure oil supplies. Oil was the fuel of the future, argued naval historian Julian Corbett at the time, and the opportunity to obtain supplies of it in the Middle East was “a gift of God”. Much more could be written about British intentions towards the oilfields of future Iraq and Iran: suffice to say they were recognised as vitally important, not only by the British, but also by the French, the Germans, the Russians and the Americans.

Fisher, the British navy’s “oil maniac” had a bright idea. He wanted to secure Britain’s oil supplies by attacking and taking the Turkish Mediterranean port of Alexandretta (now Iskanderun) because it had a rail link to Mesopotamia and its oil. Part of his idea involved using a fleet of obsolete battleships to force the Dardanelles.

When Churchill took over as First Lord of the Admiralty it seems he took Fisher’s idea and ran with part of it, with no overt reference to oil resources flagged as a reason for his Gallipoli campaign in 1915.

The eight-month campaign at Gallipoli was ostensibly an attempt by the British to find a way around the deadlock that had formed in France, where huge armies faced each other across fortified trenches. Britain’s ally Russia was fighting the Germans in the Caucasus, but was put under more pressure when Turkey allied with Germany in November 1914. The Turks closed the straits of the Dardanelles to Russian shipping, preventing the allies from sending supplies to Russia’s Black Sea ports. Russia wanted the Dardanelles re-opened and when it asked for British help in January 1915, some saw an opportunity to bypass the stalemate on the western front.

Winston Churchill, the 39-year-old First Lord of the Admiralty, agreed to a “demonstration” of British naval power to intimidate the Turks. But Churchill wanted more than a demonstration. Churchill believed the navy, with a force of elderly ships and its new “super-Dreadnought” battleship Queen Elizabeth, could force the straits, capture the Turkish capital of Constantinople and resupply Russia. Turkey would collapse and the war would come to a quicker end. The oil, presumably, would then look after itself.

There was supposed to have been a land invasion at the same time as the naval bombardment, but while the troops (including a brigade of Australians) were ready, their transport ships were found to have been so badly loaded – weapons and equipment were inaccessible – they were sent to unload and try again. The main naval attack was carried out on March 17. A joint British and French fleet poured high explosive shells onto the forts. Watchers on the ships doubted anything could survive the firestorm, but sheltered in the solid rock and earth most of the guns and their crews survived and fought back. [Does this resonate in 2026?]

Unfortunately for the British and French, the straits were full of mines and, as the ships tried to push through, the French ship Bouvet exploded and sank, and the British ships Irresistible and Ocean soon followed. The Inflexible was badly damaged, but survived. Another French ship, the Gaulois, was beached and lost.

Jackie Fisher, the “oil maniac”, didn’t think much of Churchill’s Gallipoli campaign. When the naval component failed he urged the whole thing to be abandoned and he quit in disgust when nobody would listen to him. The attempted land invasion went ahead and failed too, incidentally bringing into being our beloved “Anzac legend”.

In the end, though, the Brits got their hands on the oil. The British Lord Curzon told The Times newspaper that “he might say the Allies floated to victory upon a wave of oil”. Even before the war had begun the Brits had done a secret deal with the Sheikh of Kuwait, giving them oil rights in return for military and political protection. In late 1914 they attacked Mesopotamia and took Basra and later in the war they also grabbed Baghdad and Mosul – with much diplomatic shenanigans, of course. During the war they secretly promised future favours to local Arabs, Zionist Jews and their French wartime “allies”. Not all of these promises were kept, with the Arabs being particularly short-changed. When the war ended the oil-rich areas were carved up, with arbitrary lines drawn on the map and new “nations” created to suit the war’s winners. Essentially, the British got control of Iran and Iraq, etc etc, while the French got Lebanon and Syria.

The postwar carve-up wasn’t without arguments. The Brits “accidentally” let the French have Mosul, and it took a while for them to claw it back. And the Americans were miffed about being left out of the deals, forcing their way in and – as history shows – eventually coming to dominate the region in a way the British could barely have dreamed possible.

The oil of the Middle East has transformed the world and generated incalculable wealth. Not to mention bloodshed on a monstrous scale that shows no sign of abating even now.

And so here we are. A blockaded strait, a naval standoff and an invasion fleet poised off a forbidding rocky shore. Great powers playing chess with hapless ordinary people as pawns in their violent and immensely profitable game. Some say history repeats. Other say it merely rhymes. In Australia every Anzac Day we recite the words: “Lest we Forget”. And yet we often do, don’t we?

For more reading on the interesting topic of oil and The Great War, click here. And also here.