Sending warships into the strait would be suicidal
A narrow passage off Iran's coast has become the fulcrum on which global energy prices and geopolitical ambition now balance. The Strait of Hormuz, through which a fifth of the world's oil and gas once moved without interruption, has been sealed by war — and the path to reopening it runs through conditions that do not yet exist. France and its allies are drawing plans, but retired naval officers who have sailed these waters in wartime remind us that hope and feasibility are not the same thing, and that the world's patience will be tested long before its tankers sail again.
- The closure of the Strait of Hormuz is already pushing energy prices higher, and every day without a resolution tightens the pressure on governments and consumers alike.
- France's Macron is rallying allies around a naval escort plan, but retired Vice Admiral Ausseur warns that attempting to reopen the strait while fighting continues would be nothing short of suicidal.
- Western navies bring hard-won experience from months of Red Sea combat — French frigates shot down ballistic missiles while protecting merchant ships — but Iran's military arsenal dwarfs anything the Houthis could deploy.
- Retired Vice Admiral Olhagaray insists that safe transit would require eliminating most of Iran's land-based offensive capabilities and sustaining relentless surveillance — a threshold he says will not be reached anytime soon.
- Even a ceasefire and military escorts may not be enough: shipping insurers, facing what France's transport minister called 'insane' premiums, will not return until they believe the threat has genuinely and durably receded.
The price of fuel has a geography, and right now it traces to a narrow waterway sealed by war. The Strait of Hormuz — once the passage for roughly a fifth of the world's oil and liquefied natural gas — sits at the center of a crisis that governments are racing to address, though the solutions remain stubbornly out of reach.
In Paris, President Macron is leading an international effort to chart a reopening. The plan is conceptually simple: once fighting subsides, multinational naval escorts would shepherd commercial tankers back through the strait. But retired French naval officers who know these waters intimately say the vision collides with reality at almost every turn. Vice Admiral Pascal Ausseur was unsparing: attempting any transit while the war continues would be suicidal. Only a ceasefire, he said, would shift the odds from impossible to merely dangerous — and only then could escort operations begin.
The allied navies are not without relevant experience. French, American, and British warships spent months in the Red Sea countering Houthi missile and drone attacks. The French frigate Alsace shot down three ballistic missiles in a single engagement in 2024, and its commander described the campaign as relentless and exhausting. That crucible forged real interoperability and hard tactical lessons. But Iran is a different order of threat entirely. Tehran possesses anti-ship cruise missiles, ballistic missiles, fast attack craft, and naval mines — a layered arsenal the U.S. Defense Intelligence Agency confirms can reach anywhere in the strait and its approaches.
Vice Admiral Michel Olhagaray, who once commanded a frigate in the Hormuz during the 1980s Iran-Iraq war, laid out what genuine safety would actually demand: the destruction of most Iranian offensive installations on land, constant patrols, and an intelligence effort of extraordinary intensity. 'That will not happen — not at all — in the near future,' he said.
Beyond the military calculus lies an economic one. Shipping insurance premiums for the strait have reached what France's transport minister called 'insane' levels. Shipowners will not sail a route at a loss, no matter how vital it is to the global economy. Naval escorts might help restore insurer confidence over time, but confidence requires more than warships on the horizon — it requires a credible, sustained reduction in threat. For now, the plans accumulate, the lessons are absorbed, and the world's energy markets wait in the gap between what governments intend and what conditions will actually allow.
The price you pay at the pump has a geography. Much of it traces back to a narrow waterway off Iran's coast, now effectively sealed by war. The Strait of Hormuz, through which roughly a fifth of the world's oil and liquefied natural gas once flowed freely, sits at the center of a problem that has governments scrambling to solve it—but not yet, and perhaps not soon.
In Paris, French President Emmanuel Macron is leading an international push to chart a path forward. The vision is straightforward enough: when the fighting subsides, naval vessels from multiple countries will escort commercial tankers and container ships back through the strait, restoring the flow of energy and goods that the global economy depends on. The challenge, as retired French naval officers explain it, is that the vision collides with reality at nearly every point.
Retired Vice Admiral Pascal Ausseur, who has navigated these waters professionally, put it bluntly: attempting to reopen the strait while the war rages would be suicidal. The passage is too narrow, the vessels too exposed, the threats too varied and too capable. Only a ceasefire would shift the calculus from suicidal to merely dangerous—the point at which military escorts might become feasible. "At that point, military ships could be deployed," Ausseur said. "And then escort operations could begin."
The Western navies preparing for this role have recent combat experience that counts for something. French, American, and British warships have spent months in the Red Sea, fending off missiles and drones fired by Houthi rebels backed by Iran. The French frigate Alsace shot down three ballistic missiles in 2024 while protecting a container vessel. Captain Jerome Henry, who commanded the ship, described the experience as unnerving and exhausting—the crew rarely slept between attacks. These operations taught the allied navies how to work together, how to coordinate defenses, and how to absorb punishment. Retired Vice Admiral Michel Olhagaray, a former head of France's military studies center who once commanded a frigate in the Strait of Hormuz during the Iran-Iraq war in the 1980s, believes this hard-won knowledge will prove valuable. "All navies learned a great deal," he said.
But Iran presents a far steeper challenge than the Houthi proxies in Yemen. The rebels, armed by Tehran, attacked more than 100 merchant vessels between November 2023 and January 2025, sinking two ships and killing four sailors. Iran itself possesses anti-ship cruise missiles developed from Chinese designs, longer-range ballistic missiles, fast attack craft, and naval mines—the same arsenal it deployed during the 1980s war with Iraq. The U.S. Defense Intelligence Agency has mapped Iran's reach: it can strike anywhere in the Strait of Hormuz and its approaches. Recent American strikes on Iranian mine-laying vessels underscore how seriously the threat is taken.
Olhagaray was direct about what reopening would actually require. Before shipping could safely transit, even with military protection, most of Iran's offensive installations on land would need to be eliminated. There would need to be constant monitoring, relentless patrols, extremely close surveillance, and a very high level of intelligence work. "That will not happen at all—not at all—in the near future," he said.
There is another obstacle that military escorts alone cannot solve: insurance. Shipping premiums for the strait have climbed to what France's transport minister called "insane" levels. Shipowners operate on margins. When insurance costs become prohibitive, the economics break down. No company will sail a route at a loss, no matter how strategically important that route might be to the world. Ausseur noted that naval escorts could help restore confidence among insurers, and such arrangements have precedent in past conflicts. But confidence requires more than warships on the horizon. It requires a reasonable belief that the threat has genuinely diminished.
For now, the strait remains closed. The plans are being drawn up, the lessons from the Red Sea are being absorbed, and the diplomatic machinery is turning. But the gap between what governments hope to accomplish and what conditions on the ground will actually permit remains vast. The world's energy markets wait in that gap.
Notable Quotes
In today's context, sending warships or civilian vessels into the Strait of Hormuz would be suicidal. A ceasefire agreement would make the situation shift from suicidal to dangerous.— Retired French Vice Admiral Pascal Ausseur
That will not happen at all—not at all—in the near future. Most of Iran's offensive installations on land would have to be eliminated before shipping could safely transit.— Retired French Vice Admiral Michel Olhagaray
The Hearth Conversation Another angle on the story
Why does it matter so much that this one waterway is closed? Can't ships just go around?
They can, but it adds weeks to a journey and enormous cost. The strait is the shortest route between the Persian Gulf and the rest of the world. About a fifth of global oil passes through it. Going around means going through the Suez Canal or around Africa entirely. The economics fall apart quickly.
So France is saying they'll send warships to protect the ships. Why is that dangerous?
Because the strait is narrow—there's almost no room to maneuver. A tanker in those waters is a slow, large target. If missiles are coming at you, you can't dodge. The French admiral called it suicidal while the war is still hot.
But they've been fighting the Houthis in the Red Sea. Doesn't that experience help?
It does, but it's a different scale entirely. The Houthis are proxies with limited weapons. Iran has its own military, its own missiles, mines, fast attack boats. The threat is orders of magnitude greater.
So when could this actually happen?
Not until there's a ceasefire, at minimum. And even then, the French officers say Iran's land-based weapons would need to be largely destroyed first. That's not on the horizon.
What about the insurance companies? Why do they matter?
Because shipping is a business. If insurance costs are too high, the profit margin disappears. No shipowner will operate at a loss, no matter how important the route is. You need the insurers to believe it's safe enough to be worth the cost.
And do they believe that now?
Not remotely. Premiums have skyrocketed. Military escorts might help restore some confidence, but only if the underlying threat actually diminishes. Right now, it hasn't.