In the early hours of June 13, Israel unleashed a series of pre-emptive strikes on Iran’s nuclear development, its missile production sites and attacks on strategic personalities, including nuclear scientists and Iranian Revolutionary Guards Corps (IRGC) commanders. The attacks on Natanz, Isfahan, and Fordow inflicted severe structural damage and claimed the lives of at least fourteen nuclear scientists in coordinated assassinations. Tel Aviv justified these raids by pointing to Iran’s uranium enrichment levels, which had already reached 60 per cent purity – alarming close to the 90 per cent threshold for weapons-grade material.

Iran responded with a wave of missile and drone barrages against Israeli cities – Tel Aviv, Jerusalem, Haifa, Bnei Brak, Petah Tikva, and Rehovot – prompting air-raid sirens and Iron Dome interceptions. Yet Tehran’s retaliation extended beyond Israel’s borders, striking the US military installations in the region and daring to challenge America’s naval supremacy in the Gulf. As tensions soared, three commercial vessels in the Gulf of Oman caught fire in incidents widely attributed to Iranian sabotage. Additionally, Tehran publicly threatened to seal off the Strait of Hormuz, the narrow maritime chokepoint through which nearly one-fifth of the world’s oil supply flows.

The spectre of a Hormuz blockade is not new in Tehran’s strategic lexicon. The first recorded Iranian threat to close the strait dates back to 1951, when the then Prime Minister Mohammad Mossadegh hinted that nationalisation of the Anglo-Iranian oil company could lead to Western embargoes and blockade of the waterway. During the Iran-Iraq War in the 1980s, particularly between 1987 and 1988 in the so-called Tanker War, Iran deployed fast attack boats and mines, warning that any assault on its oil exports would close Hormuz to all shipping. In 2008, after British forces seized Iranian naval vessels in the Gulf, Tehran again menaced the strait. More recently, it has issued similar warnings in 2011-12 when it threatened to block the strait in retaliation for US and European sanctions and after the US withdrawal from the Joint Comprehensive Plan of Action (JCPOA) in 2018, as well as following the 2020 assassinations of General Qassem Soleimani and nuclear scientist Mohsen Fakhrizadeh.

Yet a full closure of the strait would do far greater harm to Iran than to its adversaries. A SWOT analysis makes this clear, particularly in the realm of diplomatic isolation. Strengths of a coalition condemning Iran would include unified political will among the United States, European Union, Japan, and other major consumers, backed by legal frameworks for sanctions and vast diplomatic networks. Weaknesses in their stance lie in competing energy needs. While Europe seeks to diversify away from Russian gas, Asian giants like China and India depend heavily on Gulf oil, which could complicate unanimous action. Opportunities for these countries include reinforcing international norms of freedom of navigation and deterring future coercive measures. Yet threats remain. If the coalition applies too harsh a diplomatic squeeze, it risks driving Iran closer to alternative partners like Russia and China, and could trigger regional destabilisation that boomerangs in higher energy prices and security costs.

Within this context, India faces a delicate strategic dilemma. Historically, New Delhi has maintained cordial ties with Tehran, importing nearly 600,000 barrels per day from Iran before 2019. However, after Washington’s “maximum pressure” campaign, India reduced these imports, pivoting toward the United States and Gulf producers. If Iran moves to choke Hormuz, India would find itself confronted with converging imperatives: supporting broader international action to keep maritime lanes open, while safeguarding its own energy security and investments in Iranian infrastructure such as the Chabahar Port. New Delhi’s likelihood of diplomatically isolating Iran hinges on balancing these interests. It could, for instance, vote in favour of UN resolutions condemning the blockade, while quietly affirming its need to maintain minimal oil flows. Ultimately, India’s principle of strategic autonomy suggests it would join consensus measures that protect global commerce without entirely severing ties with Tehran.

Roughly one-fifth of global oil consumption, around 20 million barrels per day, passes through the Strait of Hormuz, making it the most crucial chokepoint in global energy logistics. The strait, barely 21 nautical miles wide at its narrowest point, is the gateway through which the oil-rich Gulf states like Saudi Arabia, the UAE, Kuwait, Iraq, and Iran itself send crude oil to global markets. According to the U.S. Energy Information Administration, about 76 per cent of the oil that transits Hormuz heads to Asia, powering the economies of China, India, Japan, and South Korea. In addition, liquefied natural gas (LNG) shipments from Qatar, which alone accounts for 20 percent of global LNG exports, also pass through this strategic corridor.

Even a temporary closure or disruption in the Strait could send oil prices soaring above US$150  per barrel, aggravating global inflation, destabilising developing economies, and threatening already fragile post-pandemic economic recoveries. The Brent crude benchmark has already crossed US$102 per barrel in the aftermath of the Israeli strikes. Any military move to seal off Hormuz would send shockwaves through every major energy-importing economy. Notably, blocking Hormuz will prove to be a losing strategy for Iran itself.

First, Iran’s economic fragility would be laid bare. Under the US sanctions, oil exports have plummeted from over 2.5 million barrels per day in 2017 to roughly 1.2 million barrels per day today, cutting national revenues by two-thirds. With oil accounting for nearly 80 per cent of Iran’s foreign exchange receipts, a blockade that chokes off exports could erase upwards of US$40 billion in annual income, triggering a double-digit GDP contraction and reversing a decade of modest growth. Skyrocketing inflation already exceeding 45 per cent and youth unemployment above 27 per cent would turn economic hardship into social unrest, jeopardising the regime’s domestic stability.

Second, global military escalation would become almost inevitable. The US Fifth Fleet, based in Bahrain, maintains a constant presence precisely to guarantee freedom of navigation. Any attempt to blockade Hormuz would invite direct naval confrontation, potentially involving mine-clearing vessels, destroyers, and airstrikes on Iranian naval assets. Such clashes risk expanding the conflict well beyond Iranian proxies and could draw in allied forces from Europe, Australia, and even China, whose energy supply lines would be under threat.

Third, diplomatic isolation would deepen. Major consumers such as China, India, Japan, and European states would expedite the diversification of their energy imports, renegotiate existing contracts, and support secondary sanctions. Even long-standing partners like Russia would hesitate to side with Iran at the expense of their own oil revenues. Unlike the targeted suspension of the Indus Waters Treaty, which impacted only Pakistan and maintained dispute-resolution channels, a Hormuz blockade would unite a broad coalition against Iran’s action.

Fourth, there is a significant risk of financial contagion and insurance upheaval. Closing Hormuz would send tanker insurance premiums to unprecedented levels, potentially tripling current rates and causing shipping firms to reroute through longer, costlier passages around the Cape of Good Hope. This would not only cripple Iran’s capacity to export oil but also undermine its plans for alternative overland pipelines through Oman and Iraq by making them economically unviable.

Fifth, the environmental and strategic fallout could be disastrous. Mine warfare or missile strikes on civilian shipping lanes would risk oil spills in the ecologically fragile Gulf, devastating fisheries and coastal economies in Iran and neighbouring states alike. Furthermore, Iran’s own critical infrastructure, such as ports, pipelines, and refinerie,s would become legitimate military targets, compounding the costs of reconstruction already estimated to exceed US$10 billion.

In essence, a Hormuz blockade would play into Iran’s perceived strength, its geostrategic leverage over an essential trade artery, but would magnify its vulnerabilities. Economic self-harm, military escalation, diplomatic isolation, financial chaos, and environmental destruction combine to make such a move profoundly counterproductive. Instead, Iran’s optimal course lies in diplomacy and economic diversification. A ceasefire agreement paired with renewed nuclear negotiations – whether under a revamped JCPOA or a fresh multilateral framework – could secure limited sanctions relief. Mediators like Switzerland, Oman, and Qatar have the credibility to facilitate backchannel talks and rebuild trust.

Tehran’s strategic calculus at this critical juncture will not be assessed by the potency of its rhetoric, but by the prudence of its actions. A closure of the Strait of Hormuz may offer short-term leverage, but it neither redresses the damage inflicted by Israel’s pre-emptive strikes nor constrains the formidable maritime presence of the United States and its allies. On the contrary, such a move would deepen Iran’s diplomatic isolation, exacerbate its economic vulnerabilities, and risk transforming a regional crisis into a multi-actor conflagration with global repercussions. In an interconnected world order, where geoeconomic stability often supersedes geopolitical defiance, the imperative for dialogue and calibrated diplomacy has never been more urgent. The pathway to regional security and global credibility lies not in coercive disruptions but in constructive engagement, de-escalation, and a forward-looking economic vision grounded in resilience and cooperation.

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