Strait of Hormuz, Global Energy and Power Politics
Ashraful Islam
The most dangerous wars in international politics are not always those fought across front lines. They are the conflicts that quietly strike the arteries of the global economy. In the current escalation between the United States, Israel, and Iran, the battlefield is not merely airspace or military installations, it is the world’s most critical energy chokepoint. The struggle unfolding around the Strait of Hormuz is rapidly transforming a regional confrontation into a systemic global shock.
For decades, Iran has occupied a central position in the strategic threat perceptions of Washington and Tel Aviv. In the logic of their security doctrines, Tehran represents not simply a rival state but a disruptive regional actor capable of altering the balance of power across the Middle East. Israel has repeatedly justified its confrontational posture by pointing to Iran’s nuclear ambitions, uranium enrichment programs, and its extensive network of allied armed groups operating across the region. In Israeli strategic discourse, these elements together form the rationale for what is often described as “preventive” or “preemptive” military action.
The recent escalation demonstrates how quickly these doctrines can move from theory to battlefield reality. The military build-up of U.S. assets across the region in the days leading up to the conflict signaled that the confrontation was unlikely to remain limited. Once Iran responded militarily, the conflict moved beyond the framework of a bilateral clash. What began as a targeted escalation between Israel and Iran has now evolved into a broader strategic confrontation that threatens the stability of the entire Gulf energy system.
Since the resurgence of hostilities on February 28, the character of the conflict has changed dramatically. The strikes have not remained confined to conventional military targets. Sensitive infrastructure, particularly nuclear facilities and key energy installations has increasingly become part of the operational theater. Such attacks carry implications far beyond the immediate battlefield. When nuclear complexes and hydrocarbon infrastructure are targeted, the conflict ceases to be purely geopolitical; it becomes economic warfare with global repercussions.
The most consequential spillover of this escalation is the disruption of the Strait of Hormuz. Tehran’s strategy here is unmistakable. Rather than simply retaliating militarily, Iran is signaling its willingness to weaponize geography itself. By threatening the security of shipping through Hormuz, Iran is effectively telling the world that if it faces existential pressure, the global energy system will face existential disruption.
The strategic leverage embedded in this narrow waterway is extraordinary. Roughly 20 million barrels of oil transit through the strait each day, making it the single most important maritime corridor for global energy trade. The route is also critical for liquefied natural gas shipments. In 2025 alone, approximately 110 billion cubic meters of LNG passed through these waters. This concentration of energy flows means that even minor disruptions can ripple across the entire global economy.
The Gulf monarchies rely heavily on this corridor. Saudi Arabia stands as the largest oil exporter using the route, sending roughly 5.5 million barrels per day, nearly forty percent of the total shipments passing through Hormuz. Behind Riyadh are Iraq, the United Arab Emirates, Kuwait, Iran itself, and Qatar. In the LNG sector, however, the hierarchy is even more concentrated. Qatar dominates overwhelmingly, LNG exports moving through the strait. For Doha, the waterway is not merely a shipping lane; it is the backbone of its national economic model.
In theory, the Gulf exporters possess alternative maritime routes. The Bab al-Mandab Strait offers a possible detour linking the Red Sea to global markets. Yet this alternative is far more symbolic than practical. The scale of flows that can be redirected through this route remains extremely limited. Annual oil shipments through Bab al-Mandab are only a fraction of what Hormuz carries, and LNG volumes are negligible by comparison. The structural reality is clear: Hormuz remains the irreplaceable hub of the Gulf’s hydrocarbon economy.
This structural dependency means that even the perception of danger in the strait can trigger profound disruptions. When security risks increase, the first response does not occur at the level of production but at the level of logistics. Shipping companies begin cancelling voyages. Insurance premiums surge as maritime insurers classify the region as a war-risk zone. Ports face delays, and vessels hesitate to enter contested waters. What begins as a security scare quickly translates into a logistical paralysis.
The consequences cascade through the entire production chain. When shipments slow or stop, storage facilities begin to fill. Once storage reaches its limits, upstream producers are forced to scale back output. In such scenarios, the constraint on supply is not geological capacity but logistical bottlenecks. Producers may have the ability to pump oil or liquefy gas, but without secure shipping routes, the commodities cannot reach global markets.
Recent developments illustrate this dynamic clearly. QatarEnergy, the state giant responsible for managing Qatar’s LNG sector, has reportedly halted liquefaction activities due to escalating security concerns and the disruption of shipping schedules. Such a decision is extraordinary given Qatar’s central role in the global LNG market.
Iraq has also taken precautionary steps. As one of the largest producers within the Organization of the Petroleum Exporting Countries, Baghdad faces significant storage limitations. With export routes uncertain and maritime risks rising, the Iraqi government has begun curbing production to prevent storage overflow. These actions reveal that the Hormuz crisis is not inflating transportation costs, it is actively interrupting the continuity of energy production itself.
The demand side of the equation is equally critical. The vast majority of oil and LNG shipments passing through Hormuz are destined for Asia. More than eighty percent of these exports flow toward Asian markets. Four countries including China, India, Japan, and South Korea collectively absorb nearly seventy percent of the crude oil and more than half of the LNG shipments. The stability of Asian energy supply therefore hinges heavily on the uninterrupted functioning of this narrow maritime passage.
Among these countries, China occupies the most vulnerable position. As the world’s largest importer of both oil and natural gas, Beijing relies heavily on Middle Eastern supplies. Approximately half of China’s crude imports originate in the Gulf. A prolonged disruption in Hormuz could gradually slow segments of China’s industrial machine. Because Chinese manufacturing underpins vast segments of global supply chains, any sustained shock to its energy intake could reverberate through the global economy.
Yet the immediate impact is already visible in the price structure of global energy markets. Prior to the conflict, Brent crude had remained relatively stable within the range of sixty to sixty-five dollars per barrel for an extended period. Following the escalation, prices surged past eighty dollars. Such increases rarely remain confined to oil markets alone. Fuel prices rise, shipping costs climb, and inflationary pressures intensify across sectors ranging from manufacturing to transportation. For this reason, the Hormuz crisis cannot be dismissed as a regional disturbance. Energy shocks originating in the Gulf inevitably transmit across the global economy. When oil and gas prices spike, logistics networks become more expensive, industrial production costs increase, and consumer prices begin to climb worldwide.
Interestingly, the most disruptive effect of the crisis may not come from a formal closure of the strait. Even when the waterway technically remains open, uncertainty can create what analysts often describe as a “near-closure effect.” If insurers raise premiums sharply and shipping companies judge the route too dangerous, traffic through the corridor can decline dramatically. Trade slows, shipments are delayed, and energy markets begin pricing in a geopolitical risk premium.
This psychological dimension of energy markets is crucial. Prices do not react only to actual shortages. They respond to expectations of disruption. Panic in the spot market can spread rapidly into long-term contracts and investment decisions. In that sense, the strategic power of Hormuz lies not only in its ability to halt passage completely but also in its capacity to make transit unpredictable, expensive, and politically volatile.
Countries outside the Gulf must therefore assess the crisis through multiple lenses. The broader implications extend even further. What began as a strategic confrontation between Israel and Iran has evolved into a logistical shock affecting global trade networks. As freight costs climb and insurance premiums escalate, the price of moving goods across the world increases. Supply chains that were already strained by geopolitical fragmentation now face another destabilizing force.
For South Asia, the consequences could be particularly severe. Countries such as India, Pakistan, and Bangladesh rely heavily on imported hydrocarbons, much of which originates from the Gulf. Any prolonged disruption in Hormuz would therefore translate directly into higher import costs and potential supply uncertainty across the region.
Bangladesh is especially vulnerable. The country’s rapidly expanding industrial sector, particularly its export-oriented manufacturing industries depends heavily on stable energy supplies. Rising oil prices increase transportation costs, while higher LNG prices push up electricity generation expenses. These pressures can quickly translate into inflation, currency strain, and rising production costs for export industries For a country whose economic growth has been closely tied to energy-intensive manufacturing, such shocks carry strategic implications. Higher energy prices could erode the competitiveness of Bangladesh’s export sector, particularly in industries such as textiles that operate on thin margins. At the same time, increased fuel costs would likely intensify inflationary pressures on households already coping with rising living expenses.
There is also a geopolitical dimension. South Asia sits at the intersection of multiple energy supply routes, and prolonged instability in the Gulf could accelerate efforts to diversify energy sources. Regional governments may increasingly pursue alternative partnerships, invest in renewable infrastructure, or explore new pipeline networks linking Central Asia to the Indian Ocean.
Yet these adjustments take time. In the short term, South Asian economies remain deeply exposed to shocks originating thousands of kilometers away in the Persian Gulf. The Hormuz crisis therefore underscores a fundamental truth of globalization: energy chokepoints are not merely regional vulnerabilities—they are systemic pressure points capable of destabilizing entire economic regions. What is unfolding today is not simply a Middle Eastern confrontation. It is a test of the resilience of the global energy order. If the Strait of Hormuz continues to function under the shadow of military escalation, the world may soon confront a cascading series of disruptions from volatile commodity prices to strained supply chains and slowing economic growth.
In this sense, the narrow waters between Iran and the Arabian Peninsula have once again become the fulcrum of global power politics. The conflict raging around them is not just about deterrence, nuclear ambitions, or regional rivalry. It is about control over the flows that keep the world economy alive. And when those flows begin to falter, the consequences rarely remain confined to the region where the crisis began.