The Strait of Hormuz is the single point of failure for globalized production, according to Al Jazeera. Named after Hormoz, the Middle Persian rendering of Ahura Mazda, the Zoroastrian deity of wisdom, light, and cosmic order, this passage has been both a commercial and spiritual nexus for centuries. The ancient Persians did not merely build a trade route here; they consecrated it.

Historical Significance and Control

Through the 167km (104 miles) long and 39km (24 miles) wide strait pass an estimated 30,000 vessels per year. These vessels carry not only a fifth of the world’s seaborne oil and liquefied natural gas but also urea for fertilizers, aluminum for infrastructure, helium for semiconductors, and petrochemicals for pharmaceuticals and manufacturing. The strait is not merely an oil chokepoint; it is the aortic valve of globalized production, and when it fails, the entire system collapses.

Control of the strait has been a focal point of power for centuries. In the 11th century, an Arab chief named Muhammad Diramku left Oman and founded the Kingdom of Hormuz on the Iranian coast. He understood that power in this region flowed from controlling the gap between civilizations. By the 15th century, Hormuz had become one of the great emporium-states of the medieval world, attracting merchants from Egypt, China, Java, Bengal, Zanzibar, and Yemen.

The Portuguese arrived in 1507, and Admiral Afonso de Albuquerque recognized the strategic value of the strait. He seized the port with seven ships and 500 men, understanding that whoever controls this chokepoint controls everything between India and the Mediterranean. In 1622, Persia’s Shah Abbas I captured Hormuz with English naval support, and the British eventually dominated the region.

Modern Implications and Vulnerabilities

During the Iran-Iraq war of 1980-1988, the importance of the Strait of Hormuz came to the forefront. Between 1984 and 1987, 546 commercial vessels were attacked, and more than 430 seafarers were killed. Despite this, oil continued to flow, albeit at higher insurance premiums. This precedent may have encouraged the 2026 belligerents to believe that a partial closure was sustainable.

The difference between the 1980s and today is not military capability but actuarial architecture. The modern insurance system has proven capable of closing the strait more tightly than any navy. The strait has evolved from a medieval trade hub to a global artery, but its physiological role remains the same.

The standard characterization of the Strait of Hormuz as an energy corridor is flawed. The transportation of oil and liquefied natural gas accounts for about 60 percent of its regular traffic. A closure would trigger cascading failures across agriculture, manufacturing, construction, and semiconductor production.

More than 30 percent of the world’s trade in ammonia, nearly 50 percent of urea, and 20 percent of diammonium phosphate—key for the fertilizer and agriculture sectors—are transported through the strait. Some 50 percent of global sulfur, a key component of metal processing, is also exported through this narrow passage. Vessels carrying a third of the world’s helium, used in various technologies from semiconductors to MRIs, go through the strait as well. Nearly 10 percent of global aluminum and a significant chunk of plastic produced in the Gulf also pass through.

The Strait of Hormuz is also a major thoroughfare for food supplies for Gulf countries, which are highly dependent on food imports. All of this data reveals systemic fragility not just in the region, but in the world. Unlike oil, fertilizers cannot be rerouted; there are no pipelines for ammonia or urea. When the strait closes, the nitrogen supply chain simply stops.

Current Crisis and Systemic Risk

The crisis that began on February 28 is structurally unique. It is the first time the Strait of Hormuz is closed, and there is a real risk of Bab al-Mandeb (“the Gate of Tears”), a narrow passage on the Red Sea, following suit, if the Houthis choose to add pressure on the global economy in support of their Iranian allies. If that happens, it would mean that two of the world’s three critical maritime chokepoints would be shut down at the same time.

It is also the reaction of the financial system. The Suez Canal blockage of 2021 was a single-point, six-day disruption. The COVID-19 pandemic was a demand shock. The Ukraine war disrupted specific commodities through specific corridors. The current conflict has shut down the arterial system itself. The problem is not just the physical disruption and the attacks on vessels.

Within 48 hours of the start of the war, the world’s largest marine insurance mutuals issued cancellation notices for war risk extensions covering the Gulf. By March 5, commercial protection and indemnity cover was non-existent. The result was a phantom blockade, a condition in which legal and financial barriers prevent vessel movement even in the absence of physical obstacles.

Commodity traders lined up $7bn in emergency credit to avoid forced liquidations. Letters of credit for Hormuz-dependent cargoes were refused by European banks. This was not a supply disruption. It was a cardiac arrest of commerce. Ports outside the chokepoint became the sole viable alternatives. But even the bypass was under fire: Iranian drones struck Oman’s Salalah and Duqm, forcing them to suspend operations.

Almost a month into this war, the assumption that the flows of strategic goods through the Strait of Hormuz could be taken for granted—that geographical concentration was a cost optimization rather than a systemic risk—has been exposed as collective strategic myopia. The international community must recognize Hormuz as global critical infrastructure, requiring multilateral security guarantees extending beyond energy, strategic reserves covering fertilizers and metals alongside petroleum.