The argument over the Strait of Hormuz is no longer only about whether ships can pass safely, or whether international naval forces can reopen the waterway after another round of escalation. The deeper question is who gets to decide how the strait operates.
For years, freedom of navigation through Hormuz has rested on a fragile combination of deterrence, naval presence and temporary understandings. That may be enough to manage a crisis for a few days or weeks. It is not enough to provide lasting stability.
Whenever tensions rise between Iran and the US, or between Tehran and its Gulf neighbours, the confrontation quickly spills into the strait. Commercial vessels, oil tankers and civilian infrastructure are drawn into disputes that have little to do with shipping itself.
That is the weakness of the current order. Hormuz may be governed by international rules, but in practice those rules remain vulnerable to the state most willing to challenge them.
The shipping lanes pass through the territorial waters of Iran and Oman. Both countries therefore have legitimate responsibilities for safety, search and rescue, environmental protection and maritime communications. But proximity is not ownership. Geography does not give either state the right to decide who may pass, on what terms, or under whose political authority.
Iran’s latest proposal makes the issue unusually clear.
Tehran is not merely asking for a larger role in maritime safety. It wants all vessels entering the Gulf, and some of those leaving it, to pass through Iranian waters. It has rejected a return to the existing traffic separation scheme, opposed third-party involvement in mine clearance and maritime security, and linked the reopening of the strait to acceptance of its own plan.
This is not a minor adjustment to shipping routes. It is an effort to use the consequences of the conflict to secure a larger operational and political role in the strait.
If all inbound traffic were routed through Iranian waters, Tehran would gain greater visibility over commercial shipping and more opportunities to monitor, delay or selectively challenge individual vessels. It could also use the arrangement later as evidence that the old system had been replaced by one recognising a special Iranian role.
If the closure of an international waterway results in greater authority for the state that closed it, coercion will have been rewarded. Other governments may describe the arrangement as temporary. Iran could later present it as an accepted right.
Reopening Hormuz is therefore not enough. The objective must be to prevent any state from rewriting its rules through force.
Oman’s proposal points in a more constructive direction. It appears to favour a regional mechanism in which responsibility is shared and users of the strait may contribute voluntarily to maritime safety, environmental protection and search and rescue.
Oman’s model appears to treat Hormuz as a shared regional and international interest. Iran’s model would place a larger part of the traffic, information flow and operational control within Iranian waters.
That distinction should not be blurred by the phrase “joint management”. For Muscat, joint management may mean practical co-operation, shared services and an end to unilateral action. For Tehran, it could become recognition of a special authority to set routes, demand information or impose conditions.
There is a fundamental difference between charging ships for the right to pass and inviting voluntary contributions to fund services used by everyone.
Transit fees should be rejected. Once passage through an international strait becomes a source of sovereign revenue, it also becomes a source of political leverage.
Voluntary contributions are different. They could help finance rescue services, navigation systems and environmental protection, provided that the money goes to a transparent multilateral body, payment is not a condition for passage and contributors receive no preferential treatment.
Any new arrangement must also be wider than Iran and Oman.
The other Gulf states are not peripheral users of Hormuz. They are among the countries most exposed to its closure. The UAE, Saudi Arabia, Qatar, Kuwait and Bahrain, as well as Iraq, should be involved from the beginning in shaping any lasting framework.
That would not weaken Oman’s role. It could strengthen it. Muscat is better placed than any other regional capital to host and support such an arrangement, precisely because it has maintained working relations with all sides.
The answer to Iranian dominance is not permanent foreign military control. There will be moments when naval protection is necessary. Ships may need escort. Mines may have to be cleared. Attacks may require a collective response.
But a permanent military solution would leave Hormuz trapped in the same cycle: Iranian threats, foreign deployments, heightened tension and another crisis waiting to happen.
The region needs an arrangement led by regional states, grounded in international law and supported by outside powers only when a specific threat requires it.
A Hormuz Charter for Navigation and Maritime Security could provide that framework.
Its purpose would not be to divide control of the strait among regional governments. It would establish that no government has such a right.
The principle is straightforward. Coastal sovereignty must be respected, but transit through an international strait cannot be made dependent on political approval.
The charter should reaffirm the existing traffic separation scheme. Any change should take place through the International Maritime Organisation and with broad regional agreement. No state should be able to impose new routes after closing the waterway or threatening to do so.
It should also state clearly that passage cannot be suspended and that ships cannot be treated differently because of their flag, destination or the political position of the country to which they belong.
A voluntary fund could support safety, rescue and environmental services. But there should be no payment for the right to pass.
The institutional structure need not be overly complicated. A regional council could bring together the GCC states, Iran and Iraq. No country should hold a permanent chair or an individual veto. A separate professional body could collect maritime information, issue warnings and investigate incidents.
The charter would also need a credible response mechanism. Investigation and mediation should come first. If an attack continues, the response could expand to vessel protection, mine clearance and the restoration of navigation.
Iran would be part of this framework, as it should be. It is a major coastal state and cannot be excluded from any serious regional arrangement.
Iran should have a role in protecting the strait, not a right to dominate it.
The most striking feature of the current debate is how often Gulf states are forced into a reactive position, despite having the greatest direct interest in the outcome.
They wait for Iran’s terms, for decisions by major powers or for emergency naval arrangements designed elsewhere. That should change.
The Gulf states possess the economic weight, maritime capabilities and diplomatic relationships needed to put forward their own framework. They do not need to choose between an Iranian system and a foreign one.
A common Gulf position should begin with a few non-negotiable principles: no transit fees, no unilateral changes to shipping routes, no suspension of passage and no recognition of a special right for any state to control the waterway.
Oman’s initiative could then become the starting point for a broader regional process.
Negotiations need not begin with the most difficult political questions. Search and rescue, environmental protection, notification of military exercises, collision prevention and independent investigation of incidents are practical areas where limited co-operation is possible. It would do something more realistic: create rules for managing rivalry and prevent every political dispute from becoming a maritime crisis.
Iran may reject any arrangement that reduces the leverage it derives from Hormuz. That would hardly be surprising. But the purpose of a charter is not to satisfy every Iranian demand. It is to distinguish between legitimate Iranian interests and claims created through coercion.
Iran has a valid role in safety, rescue and environmental protection. It also has an interest in reducing foreign military activity near its coast. What it does not have is the right to close an international waterway and then demand greater control as the price for reopening it.
The Gulf states should be equally cautious about temporary deals. Ambiguity can make an agreement easier to reach, but it can also make the next confrontation more likely.
A concession described today as an emergency measure may be cited tomorrow as formal recognition of a new Iranian authority.
The balance is not difficult to define. Iran should participate, but not dominate. Regional states should take responsibility, but no one should monopolise the strait. Users may support maritime services, but they should not pay for passage. International forces may provide protection in an emergency, but they should not become the permanent managers of Hormuz.
The strait does not belong to Iran, Oman, the Gulf states or the major powers. It is an international passage running through a region whose states have a shared responsibility to keep it open.
The question is no longer which country has the military capability to close Hormuz. It is whether the region will allow force to create a political right that did not exist before. It should not.
