The Strait of Hormuz Closed Once More: There Is No End to This!
The news from the New York Post is grim but familiar: Iran claims to have closed the Strait of Hormuz after firing on a container ship, issuing fresh warnings of severe retaliation. Once again, the narrow chokepoint through which roughly 20-30% of global seaborne oil passes sits at the centre of escalation. Tanker traffic, insurance rates, and oil futures will spike. Markets will jitter. And the cycle will continue, because, for the Islamic Republic and its proxies, disruption is not a bug but a recurring feature of strategy. There is no end in sight.
The Strait of Hormuz has been a flashpoint for decades. Iran has threatened or attempted to disrupt it during the Tanker War of the 1980s, after the 2015 nuclear deal tensions, following Soleimani's killing, and amid repeated proxy attacks via the Houthis in the Red Sea. Closing or mining the strait is Iran's ultimate asymmetric card, a low-cost way to impose high costs on the global economy, particularly on Gulf exporters, Europe, Asia, and energy importers like us in Australia.
In this latest incident, the details are still emerging, but the pattern is unmistakable. Fire on a commercial vessel, declare the strait "closed," threaten escalation, and dare the US, Israel, or Gulf states to respond in a way that risks wider war. Iran calculates, often correctly, that Western powers prefer containment, sanctions, and diplomacy over decisive confrontation. The result is a permanent low-to-medium boil: enough pressure to extract concessions or maintain relevance, not enough (usually) to invite regime-ending retaliation.
The modern managerial state, whether in Washington, Canberra, or European capitals, struggles with this kind of adversary. Iran is not a conventional great power but a revolutionary regime that weaponises ideology, proxies (Hezbollah, Houthis, militias in Iraq/Syria), and geography. Its economy is sanctioned and distorted, yet it sustains enough missile, drone, and naval capability to threaten critical infrastructure. The regime's legitimacy at home rests partly on defiance of the "Great Satan" and its allies; compromise is weakness.
Western responses have cycled through engagement (Obama-era deal), maximum pressure (Trump), and a return to managed tension. None has resolved the underlying problem: a theocratic regime that views the region as its rightful sphere and global energy chokepoints as leverage. "Diplomacy" buys time for enrichment; sanctions leak through Chinese and Russian channels; proxy attrition drains opponents without decisive victory. Meanwhile, the Gulf states hedge, China secures alternative supplies where possible, and importers absorb higher prices.
For Australia, the implications are direct. As a net energy importer reliant on stable global markets, disruptions translate into higher fuel costs, inflation pressure, and supply chain headaches. Our strategic dependence on US naval power in the Indo-Pacific (and beyond) is laid bare. Yet domestic policy: net-zero rhetoric, constrained domestic gas/coal development, and openness to migration-driven demand, leaves us exposed. The same elite mindset that treats demographic replacement as progress, treats endless Middle Eastern volatility as something "over there" rather than a recurring tax on prosperity and security.
There is no end to this because the incentives remain misaligned. Iran faces no existential domestic pressure sufficient to force fundamental change. The West lacks the stomach for the sustained commitment required to neutralise the threat (regime change, decisive naval action, or credible long-term containment). Proxy dynamics allow escalation without full accountability. And global energy dependence ensures the pain is distributed widely enough that no single actor feels compelled to force resolution.
Historical parallels abound: the Barbary pirates, endless Levantine conflicts, or Cold War proxy wars. Geography and ideology create durable problems. Pretending otherwise through successive rounds of "deals" or rhetorical condemnation changes little. The strait will "reopen" after negotiations, payments, or de-escalation; until the next provocation. Rinse and repeat.
A competent state would recognise this as a long-term civilisational and resource contest rather than a series of isolated crises. It would diversify energy sources ruthlessly, harden supply chains, maintain credible deterrent power projection, and avoid importing additional internal divisions that weaken resolve. The modern Western state, however, often does the opposite: virtue-signalling foreign policy, energy self-sabotage, and open borders that import constituencies sympathetic to anti-Western forces.
The latest closure of the Strait of Hormuz is not an anomaly. It is the new (old) normal. There is no end to this until actors on all sides face fundamentally altered incentives, or until one side prevails through persistence. History suggests the latter is more likely than a neat diplomatic resolution. In the meantime, expect higher prices, more volatility, and further proof that geography and determined adversaries outlast policy fashions. Australia, like its allies, would do well to plan accordingly rather than hope for the best.
