Military aid is not a sustainable solution to the strait's challenges
At the narrow passage between Iran and Oman where a fifth of the world's oil and gas must travel, the head of the International Maritime Organization has offered a sobering reminder: warships can project power, but they cannot manufacture peace. Arsenio Dominguez's warning, issued in March 2026, is less a policy prescription than a philosophical reckoning — an acknowledgment that the security of global commerce cannot be indefinitely outsourced to military force. Behind the abstractions of energy markets and geopolitics are seafarers stranded at sea, caught in the gap between economic necessity and human safety.
- One-fifth of the world's oil and gas flows through a waterway that has become too dangerous to treat as routine, and every disruption sends price shocks through energy markets and fractures supply chains across continents.
- Naval escorts, deployed as a stopgap, are proving to be a dependency rather than a solution — warships can deter but cannot dissolve the political instability that makes the strait volatile.
- Seafarers are bearing the human cost most directly, with crews stranded aboard ships running low on supplies, caught between employer pressure and the reality of operating in an active conflict zone.
- Shipping companies are already rerouting cargo around Africa, absorbing weeks of added transit time and millions in extra costs, as they quietly accept that the strait cannot be counted on.
- The IMO is pushing for a fundamental reorientation — away from military dependency and toward diplomatic engagement, alternative infrastructure, and coordinated international cooperation that addresses root causes rather than symptoms.
The Strait of Hormuz has become a living argument against a comfortable assumption: that military presence can substitute for political stability. Arsenio Dominguez, head of the International Maritime Organization, has said plainly that naval escorts cannot guarantee safe passage through one of the world's most consequential waterways — a narrow channel between Iran and Oman through which one-fifth of all global oil and gas must pass.
The consequences of disruption are immediate and far-reaching. Energy prices spike, supply chains fracture, and companies face an impossible choice between routing cargo around Africa at enormous cost or accepting the dangers of the strait. The military option — stationing warships to escort commercial vessels — offers the appearance of control without resolving the underlying instability that makes the passage dangerous.
Less visible in the geopolitical calculus are the seafarers themselves. Crews are stranded aboard ships with dwindling supplies, navigating waters that increasingly resemble a war zone. Dominguez has urged shipping managers to suspend voyages when conditions become too dangerous — a principle that economic pressure routinely overrides.
What the IMO chief is ultimately calling for is a change in how the problem is framed. The strait is not a military puzzle to be solved with hardware; it is a diplomatic and logistical challenge requiring sustained cooperation among nations, shipping companies, and international institutions. That means addressing political tensions at their source, building communication channels between military forces in the region, and investing in alternative routes so the global economy is not held hostage to a single chokepoint.
Shipping companies are already adapting — rerouting, rebuilding supply chains, adding redundancy where efficiency once reigned. These changes are costly, but they signal a growing recognition that the strait's reliability can no longer be assumed. Dominguez's message is one of hard realism: until the deeper work of diplomacy and cooperation is done, it is the people who work at sea who will continue to pay the price of geopolitical failure.
The Strait of Hormuz has become a test case for a hard truth: military power alone cannot solve the problem of keeping ships safe through contested waters. Arsenio Dominguez, who leads the International Maritime Organization, made this argument plainly in recent remarks: naval escorts, no matter how well-armed or well-intentioned, cannot guarantee safe passage through one of the world's most critical shipping lanes.
The stakes are enormous. One-fifth of all global oil and natural gas flows through the strait—a narrow waterway between Iran and Oman that has become increasingly volatile. When that passage is even partially blocked or made dangerous, the effects ripple outward immediately. Energy prices spike. Supply chains fracture. Refineries and power plants that depend on steady fuel deliveries begin to strain. Shipping companies face a choice between routing cargo around Africa, adding weeks and millions in costs, or pushing through the strait and accepting the risk.
Dominguez's position is that military intervention, while tempting to policymakers, is not a durable answer to this problem. Stationing warships in the strait might deter some threats, but it cannot eliminate the underlying instability that makes the passage dangerous in the first place. More fundamentally, relying on military escorts creates a dependency that shipping companies and energy markets cannot sustain indefinitely. At some point, the question becomes: what happens when the escorts leave, or when their presence is no longer enough?
The human dimension of this crisis is often overlooked in discussions of energy markets and geopolitics. Ships are stranded in the strait with crews running low on supplies. Seafarers—the people who actually navigate these waters and keep global trade moving—are caught between the demands of their employers and the reality of working in a war zone. Dominguez has urged shipping managers to take crew safety seriously by suspending voyages through the strait when conditions become too dangerous. It is a simple principle that often gets overridden by economic pressure.
What the IMO chief is really arguing for is a shift in thinking. Rather than treating the Strait of Hormuz as a military problem to be solved with warships, it should be treated as a diplomatic and logistical challenge requiring sustained collaboration among nations, shipping companies, and international bodies. This means addressing the underlying political tensions that make the strait dangerous in the first place. It means establishing clearer rules of engagement and communication channels between military forces operating in the region. It means investing in alternative routes and supply chains so that the global economy is not held hostage to the stability of a single waterway.
The partial closure of the strait has already forced a logistics overhaul. Companies are rerouting shipments, adjusting inventory strategies, and building redundancy into supply chains that were previously optimized for speed and efficiency. These changes are expensive and disruptive, but they reflect a growing recognition that the strait cannot be treated as a reliable passage under current conditions.
Dominguez's message is one of caution and realism. Naval escorts have a role to play, but they are not a solution. What is needed is a longer-term commitment to stability, transparency, and cooperation—the kind of work that does not make headlines but that actually protects seafarers and keeps global trade flowing. Until that work is done, the Strait of Hormuz will remain a chokepoint where military hardware and economic necessity collide, and where the people who work at sea bear the cost of geopolitical failure.
Notable Quotes
Military aid is not a sustainable solution to the strait's challenges— Arsenio Dominguez, IMO Chief
The Hearth Conversation Another angle on the story
Why does the IMO chief think military escorts are insufficient? What's the actual limitation?
He's arguing that warships can deter some threats, but they can't eliminate the underlying instability. Once you start relying on military presence, you've created a dependency that's not sustainable long-term. What happens when the escorts leave, or when their presence stops being enough?
But doesn't having more military presence reduce risk in the short term?
It might, tactically. But Dominguez seems to be saying that short-term risk reduction isn't the same as solving the problem. You're treating a symptom, not the disease. The disease is the political tension that makes the strait dangerous in the first place.
So what does he think should happen instead?
Collaboration. Diplomacy. Establishing clearer rules of engagement between military forces. Investing in alternative routes so the global economy isn't dependent on one waterway. It's slower work, less visible, but it actually addresses why the strait is dangerous.
What about the crews working these ships right now?
That's the urgent human piece. Ships are stranded with dwindling supplies. Seafarers are caught between employer pressure and the reality of working in a contested zone. Dominguez is saying shipping managers need to suspend risky voyages and prioritize crew safety—which sounds obvious until you remember that energy prices are spiking and companies are desperate to move cargo.
Is there any indication this collaborative approach is actually happening?
Not yet. What we're seeing instead is companies rerouting shipments around Africa, adjusting supply chains, building redundancy. That's a practical response to the crisis, but it's also expensive and disruptive. It suggests people are losing faith in the strait as a reliable passage.