ANALYSIS: The Strait of Hormuz as a Weapon of War — When Trump Plays with the World’s Water Tap

The "Maximum Pressure" Strategy, Act Two

What Washington calls “maximum pressure,” Tehran calls strangulation. And the difference between the two is not semantic—it is existential. For Iran, U.S. oil sanctions are not a bargaining chip. They are a direct threat to the regime’s survival. A country deprived of its oil revenues is a country backed into a corner. And a country backed into a corner is a dangerous country.

There is an unwritten rule in geopolitics that Washington’s strategists seem to have forgotten: you never corner an adversary without leaving them a way out.

Trump, however, has sealed off every exit. Withdrawal from the nuclear deal in 2018. Sanctions reinstated and tightened. The assassination of General Qassem Soleimani in January 2020. And now, in 2025, a new escalation—with barely veiled threats of military strikes if Iran continues its enrichment program.

Iran has only one card to play—and it’s called the Strait of Hormuz

Tehran knows this. The generals of the Revolutionary Guards have been repeating it for years with chilling consistency: if Iran cannot export its oil, no one else will. This is not an empty threat. It is a military doctrine. The Iranians mined the strait during the Iran-Iraq War. They seized oil tankers in 2019. They shot down American drones. Each time, the world held its breath. Each time, the escalation stopped at the edge of the precipice.

But the edge of the precipice, if you walk along it long enough, eventually crumbles beneath your feet.

A Message Addressed to Two Recipients

When Jean-Yves Le Drian speaks of an act of war, he is addressing two capitals at once. First, Washington: you are crossing a line. Then to Paris: wake up. The subtext is crystal clear to anyone familiar with the understated language of French diplomacy—a former minister does not utter these words by accident. He says them because official channels are blocked, because the Élysée is hesitating, because Europe is looking the other way.

France has a permanent military base in Abu Dhabi, in the United Arab Emirates. French ships regularly patrol the Persian Gulf. Rafale fighter jets are stationed within flying range of the Strait of Hormuz. France is not a bystander in this crisis—it is right in the thick of the action.

European silence as a strategic choice—or as paralysis

And yet. Radio silence from Brussels. Silence from Berlin. Silence from Rome. The European Union, which imports a significant portion of its energy via maritime routes passing through or dependent on the Strait of Hormuz, is watching the escalating tensions with the passivity of a rabbit caught in the headlights of a truck.

By breaking this silence, Le Drian is doing what current French diplomacy can no longer do: calling things by their proper names. Calling a blockade a blockade. Calling an act of war an act of war. And implicitly asking the question that everyone is dodging—if this is an act of war, what is the appropriate response?

The Numbers No One Puts into Perspective

Close the Strait of Hormuz for a week. Just one. The price of a barrel of oil, which currently hovers around $85–$90, would instantly rise above $150. Some analysts predict $200 or even $300 in the event of a prolonged closure. At that price, a liter of gasoline at the pump in France would exceed three euros. Diesel, the fuel used by truckers, would trigger a domino effect of logistical paralysis. Food prices would skyrocket. Inflation, already painful, would become unsustainable.

This isn’t fiction. It’s simple arithmetic.

And the financial markets know this arithmetic by heart. Every threatening tweet, every naval movement, every bellicose statement sends crude oil prices soaring and stock market indices reeling. The volatility of the Strait of Hormuz is not a theoretical risk—it’s a risk traded on the stock market, insured by Lloyd’s of London, which calculates the probability of a major incident every day.

Who pays when the tap is turned off?

Not the United States. Washington has become the world’s leading oil producer thanks to shale. A closure of the Strait of Hormuz would drive up prices—and enrich American producers. The irony is cruel: Trump’s policy in the Gulf could benefit the United States economically while devastating Europe and Asia.

Those who pay the price are the importers: China, Japan, South Korea, India—and Europe. Germany, whose industry still runs partly on fossil fuels. France, whose energy bill would balloon by tens of billions. America’s allies, in short—the very ones Trump claims to be protecting.

How Tensions Can Escalate into War Without Intention

No one wakes up one morning and decides to start a war in the Strait of Hormuz. Wars begin with accidents. A drone shot down by mistake. An oil tanker struck by a drifting mine. An exchange of fire between Iranian speedboats and a U.S. destroyer whose commander has two seconds to decide whether to return fire. Two seconds. In a three-kilometer-wide channel where ships pass each other within a few hundred meters.

In July 2019, Iran shot down a U.S. RQ-4 Global Hawk drone over the strait. Trump ordered a retaliatory strike—then called it off ten minutes before impact. Ten minutes. The world learned the news the next day, with a collective shrug. But in the command centers of the Pentagon and the Revolutionary Guards’ headquarters that night, men stared at their screens knowing that ten minutes had just separated peace from war.

The Human Factor in a Confined Space

And yet, what makes the Strait of Hormuz more dangerous than any other hotspot on the planet is not geopolitics. It is physical proximity. In this strait, Iranian and American ships sometimes operate less than 500 meters apart. At that distance, there is no time for reflection. No time for a phone call to the State Department. No time to consult the rules of engagement. There’s a radar, a finger on a button, and the survival instinct of a crew watching a missile hurtle toward them.

The USS Vincennes shot down an Iranian Airbus A300 in 1988 in these very waters. Two hundred ninety civilians were killed. The ship’s commander believed he had identified a hostile F-14 fighter jet approaching. He was wrong. But he had three seconds to decide.

When Protection Becomes a Threat

There is a word to describe an ally who protects you with one hand and strangles you with the other. Diplomacy has not yet invented that word.

NATO is based on a simple principle: collective security. Article 5—an attack against one is an attack against all. But what happens when the leading ally deliberately provokes a crisis that threatens the economic security of all the others? Article 5 does not provide for this scenario. No treaty provides for it. Because no one had imagined that a U.S. president would use the Strait of Hormuz as leverage to blackmail his own allies.

Yet that is exactly what is happening. The unilateral U.S. sanctions on Iran—decided without consulting the Europeans and imposed on them under threat of secondary sanctions—have created a situation in which Europe is caught in a vise. Complying with U.S. sanctions means giving up any independent foreign policy. Circumventing them means exposing oneself to economic retaliation from Washington.

Europe’s Silent Humiliation

Remember INSTEX. This European trade barter mechanism was created in 2019 to circumvent U.S. sanctions and maintain trade with Iran. The idea was bold—Europe was asserting its strategic autonomy vis-à-vis Washington. The reality was pathetic. INSTEX never worked. Not a single significant transaction took place. European companies, terrified at the thought of being excluded from the U.S. financial system, preferred to abandon the Iranian market rather than risk the wrath of the U.S. Treasury.

Le Drian had a front-row seat to this failure. He knows better than anyone that Europe lacks the means to back up its rhetoric. When he speaks of an “act of war,” he also knows that Europe will never declare war on anyone. What he is doing is shaking a sleepwalker who is walking toward the precipice.

What the Hawks in Washington Refuse to Hear

Iran is not Saddam Hussein and his demoralized army of 2003. It is a mountainous country of 88 million people, three times the size of France, with a ballistic missile program capable of striking any U.S. base in the Middle East, allied with armed militias in Lebanon, Iraq, Syria, and Yemen—a network of proxies capable of turning the entire region into a living hell all at once.

Hezbollah in Lebanon. The Houthis in Yemen—who have already demonstrated their ability to strike commercial ships in the Red Sea. The Shiite militias in Iraq, which have targeted U.S. bases on multiple occasions. Iran does not need to win a conventional war. It simply needs to make the cost of war unbearable.

The specter of Yemen multiplied by ten

Look at what the Houthis—a relatively modest militia, armed with Iranian drones and missiles—have done to global shipping in the Red Sea since 2023. Dozens of ships have been attacked. Maritime traffic has been rerouted via the Cape of Good Hope, adding weeks to transit times and billions in additional costs. Marine insurance companies have increased their premiums tenfold.

Now, imagine the same thing happening in the Strait of Hormuz. With resources ten times greater. With Noor and Qader anti-ship missiles capable of striking an oil tanker from 200 kilometers away. With Ghadir mini-submarines designed specifically to operate in the shallow waters of the Gulf. With thousands of sea mines stored in underground arsenals.

And yet, in Washington, some people continue to talk about “surgical strikes.” As if one could operate with a scalpel in a powder keg.

Does Europe still have a voice?

Behind the former minister’s statement lies a question that is broader, more unsettling, and more fundamental than the fate of the Strait of Hormuz. Does Europe still exist as a geopolitical actor? Or is it now nothing more than a market of 450 million consumers—rich yet vulnerable—unable to defend its own strategic interests when they diverge from those of Washington?

The answer to this question, in April 2025, is painful to write.

Europe has no Iran policy. It has a non-policy toward Iran—a collection of statements, expressed concerns, voiced regrets, and endured sanctions. When Trump tore up the nuclear deal, the Europeans protested. Then they fell in line. When Trump assassinated Soleimani, the Europeans called for de-escalation. Then they turned a blind eye. Now that Trump is threatening to block the Strait of Hormuz by proxy—pushing Iran to the brink—the Europeans are expressing their concern.

Expressing concern is not foreign policy. It is an admission of powerlessness.

What Macron Could Do—and Probably Won’t

France has assets that few European countries possess: a permanent seat on the UN Security Council; a credible military projection force; and a diplomatic tradition with Iran dating back decades. A channel of communication with Tehran that neither Berlin nor London possesses. In 2019, Emmanuel Macron even attempted direct mediation between Trump and Iranian President Rouhani—inviting Iranian Foreign Minister Zarif to the sidelines of the G7 summit in Biarritz.

That attempt failed. But it showed that France was still capable of taking the initiative. Three years later, in an even more tense environment, that capacity for initiative seems to have vanished, swallowed up by the war in Ukraine, by domestic crises, and by palpable diplomatic fatigue.

Qatar, a Victim of Geography

We always talk about oil. We forget about gas. Qatar, the world’s third-largest producer of liquefied natural gas (LNG), exports nearly all of its production through the Strait of Hormuz. Europe, which has been desperately seeking to diversify its energy sources following Russia’s invasion of Ukraine, has turned heavily to LNG—a growing share of which comes from Qatar.

Blocking the Strait of Hormuz, therefore, isn’t just about cutting off oil. It’s about cutting off gas, too. And for a Europe that has replaced its dependence on Russian gas with a dependence on Qatari LNG, it’s like swapping one trap for another. Same vulnerability, same bottleneck, different supplier.

Energy Diversification: A Mirage

Saudi Arabia has built an east-west oil pipeline capable of partially bypassing the Strait of Hormuz—the Petroline pipeline, which connects the eastern oil fields to Yanbu on the Red Sea. Capacity: approximately 5 million barrels per day. That’s significant, but it doesn’t make up for the 17 million barrels that pass through the strait daily. The UAE also has its Habshan-Fujairah pipeline, which empties directly into the Gulf of Oman, bypassing Hormuz. Capacity: 1.5 million barrels.

In total, these alternatives account for about one-third of normal traffic through the Strait of Hormuz. The other two-thirds? Irreplaceable.

Beijing is watching, assessing, and waiting

If the Strait of Hormuz closes, the country most affected after Japan and South Korea would be China. As the world’s leading oil importer, Beijing relies on the Gulf for about 40% of its supplies. The Chinese navy, which built its first overseas military base in Djibouti—at the other end of the maritime oil route—is watching the rising tensions with a mix of concern and opportunism.

Concern, because a closure of the Strait of Hormuz would be catastrophic for the Chinese economy. Opportunism, because every crisis provoked by Washington in the Gulf strengthens China’s argument with oil-producing countries: America is an unstable partner; China is a reliable customer.

Beijing doesn’t need to win the battle for the Strait of Hormuz. It simply needs to let Washington lose it.

The Maritime Silk Road: Beijing’s Plan B

For years, China has been investing heavily in alternative routes. The China-Pakistan Economic Corridor, which connects Xinjiang to the port of Gwadar on the Arabian Sea—bypassing the Strait of Hormuz overland. The China-Myanmar pipelines, which transport oil and gas directly from the Indian Ocean. Long-term agreements with Russia, whose oil arrives via pipeline, far from any strait.

Every crisis in the Gulf accelerates this diversification. Every threat Trump makes regarding the Strait of Hormuz pushes China to reduce its dependence on sea routes controlled by the U.S. Navy. And every dollar invested in these alternative routes is a dollar that weakens U.S. naval hegemony—the very hegemony that Trump claims to defend.

What the Texts Say—and How the Great Powers Interpret Them

The United Nations Convention on the Law of the Sea (UNCLOS, 1982) guarantees the right of transit passage through international straits. Article 38 is crystal clear: ships of all states enjoy the right of transit passage, which cannot be impeded. The Strait of Hormuz is an international strait. Blocking passage there is, in law, a violation of the law of the sea.

But international law, in 2025, resembles a traffic code in a city without police. The United States has never ratified UNCLOS. Iran interprets its territorial waters broadly. And when weapons speak, lawyers fall silent.

Le Drian and the Legal Characterization

By characterizing the blockade as an act of war, Le Drian is doing more than making a political statement. He is establishing a legal framework. Under international law, an act of war triggers certain rights—the right to self-defense, the right to appeal to the Security Council, and the right to form coalitions. This is a coded language that foreign ministries understand perfectly, even if the general public only grasps the surface of it.

The question then becomes: Who is committing the act of war? Iran, if it physically blocks the strait? Or the United States, whose policy of maximum pressure is pushing Iran to consider this blockade as a last resort? Le Drian, by explicitly targeting Trump, resolves this ambiguity. For him, it is the provocateur who is responsible, not the one reacting to the provocation.

French Diplomacy by Proxy

There is something deeply revealing about the fact that it is a former minister who is speaking these words. Not the current minister. Not the president. Not the spokesperson for the Quai d’Orsay. A former minister. Someone who has retired from power, freed from the constraints of protocol, diplomatic niceties, and the fear of displeasing Washington.

This has become a recurring pattern in Europe. Current leaders walk on eggshells. Former leaders speak the truth. As if courage could only be expressed once power has been lost—as if governing meant keeping silent.

The Missing Voice

And yet, what Europe needs at this very moment is not a courageous former minister on a TV set. It is a sitting leader who looks into the camera and says: We will not let an American president jeopardize our energy security to satisfy his electoral agenda. We will not let the Strait of Hormuz be held hostage to American domestic politics.

That statement does not exist. And its absence is, in itself, a political act.

72 Hours That Would Change the World

Day 1. An incident in the strait. It doesn’t matter what it is—a mine, a drone, gunfire. The oil markets panic. The price per barrel jumps by $40 in a matter of hours. Futures contracts go haywire. Insurance companies suspend coverage for ships transiting the Strait of Hormuz.

Day 2. Maritime traffic comes to a halt. No shipowner is willing to risk sending a 300,000-metric-ton supertanker into a war zone. Oil terminals in the Gulf are idling. Importing countries begin tapping into their strategic reserves. The International Energy Agency convenes an emergency meeting.

Day 3. Panic spreads. Gas stations begin rationing fuel. Airlines cancel flights. Energy-intensive industries cut back on production. Stock markets plummet. And in capitals around the world, leaders who had chosen to turn a blind eye realize that 21 kilometers of saltwater have just brought the global economy to its knees.

And after that

After that, it’s the unknown. A conventional war? An agreement negotiated under the pressure of economic chaos? A stalemate lasting months, with military escorts for every oil convoy, as during the tanker war of the 1980s? No one knows. And that is precisely what makes the situation so dangerous—the lack of an exit strategy.

Fragility as a Permanent Condition

The Strait of Hormuz is a mirror. It reflects back to us the image of a world that has built its prosperity on foundations of terrifying fragility.

We have organized the global economy around a handful of geographical chokepoints—Ormuz, Malacca, Suez, Panama, Bab-el-Mandeb—without ever seriously considering what would happen if one of them were to close. We have built intercontinental supply chains of dizzying complexity, optimized for efficiency and blind to risk. We have made oil the lifeblood of modern civilization, and then entrusted the guardianship of that lifeblood to powers whose interests are fundamentally at odds.

By uttering those four words, Le Drian is doing more than just commenting on a geopolitical crisis. He is offering a diagnosis of the very architecture of our world.

What every citizen should understand

You heat your home. You drive your car. You buy products transported by diesel-powered trucks. You live in a building constructed with materials shipped by vessels. Your daily life depends on the Strait of Hormuz. Not abstractly. Not theoretically. Concretely, physically, in every action you take throughout your day.

And no one has explained this dependence to you. No one has asked you if you accept it. No one has told you that your comfort rests on a 21-kilometer strait that two men—one in Washington, the other in Tehran—can close on a whim.

What History Will Remember

Jean-Yves Le Drian’s words may one day join the long list of warnings that were ignored. Like Churchill’s before Munich. Like those of climate scientists in the 1990s. Like those of economists before 2008. Clear-sighted voices, drowned out by the noise, whose relevance we rediscover only after the disaster—when it is too late for that clarity to serve any purpose other than as an epitaph.

Or perhaps these words will find their way. Perhaps they will spark a debate. Perhaps they will prompt a European leader to raise a hand and say: he’s right. Perhaps, for once, awareness will precede disaster instead of following it.

What is certain

What is certain is that the Strait of Hormuz will not widen. That Iran will not disappear. That oil will not cease to be essential overnight. That Trump will not change his strategy. And that Europe will, sooner or later, have to choose between sovereignty and submission.

Le Drian has made his choice. He chose his words. He chose clarity. He chose to call an act of war an act of war.

It remains to be seen who, among those still in power, will have the courage to do the same.

Signed, Jacques PJ Provost