For generations, Iran has anchored its security doctrine on a single geographic fact: that a fifth of the world's energy must pass through a narrow strait it can threaten to close. Now, as Gulf neighbors quietly construct alternative pipelines that could render Hormuz strategically marginal within a decade, Tehran finds itself confronting a paradox of its own making — the very act of brandishing the lever has compelled the world to engineer its way around it. Senior Iranian officials, speaking with unusual candor, are acknowledging that economic collapse poses a graver threat to national survi
Iran's Hormuz leverage erodes as Gulf states build alternative pipelines
Economic hardship and potential hunger affecting ordinary Iranians as sanctions and economic pressures mount, with officials warning of governance collapse if living standards continue declining.
A threat repeated constantly becomes habit, and habit without results becomes hollow.
Mark
So Iran has spent decades building its entire security strategy around controlling this one waterway. What changes when that leverage disappears?
Mimi
Everything, potentially. If the Gulf states can move their oil through pipelines instead of Hormuz, Iran loses its ability to threaten global energy markets. That was the whole point of the strategy—the threat itself was the deterrent. Once the threat becomes toothless, Iran has to find a different way to protect itself.
Mark
But the pipelines aren't built yet. Why is Iran acting like they already are?
Mimi
Because the analysis shows they will be, and soon. Three years for half the value to disappear. Six years for most of it to be gone. When you see that timeline, you can't wait. You have to move now, while you still have something to negotiate with.
Mark
The officials are talking about hunger and economic collapse. Is that real, or is it political pressure to force a deal?
Mimi
It's real. The sanctions are working. The blockade is working. People are struggling. And the leadership is realizing that no amount of military posturing matters if the country can't feed itself. That's not a negotiating tactic—that's a recognition of what's actually happening on the ground.
Mark
What's the paradox Asefi keeps talking about?
Mimi
The more you threaten to close the strait, the more the world builds ways around it. Your leverage creates the conditions for your own irrelevance. It's a trap you set for yourself.
Mark
So what does Iran do now?
Mimi
That's the question tearing the country apart. Some say negotiate immediately, before the pipelines are finished and the leverage is completely gone. Others say hold firm. But time is running out either way.
Le Pouls
- Iran's most consequential strategic asset — the ability to choke off a fifth of global oil and gas — is being systematically engineered out of existence by Gulf neighbors building alternative export pipelines that could reduce regional dependence on Hormuz by up to 85 percent within six years.
- Inside Tehran, a rare and urgent fracture has opened between hardliners and pragmatists, with the parliamentary speaker, the president, and the central bank governor all publicly warning that hunger, economic collapse, and governance failure now threaten Iran more than any foreign military.
- The strait itself is already partially paralyzed — independent trackers estimate daily throughput at roughly 6 million barrels, less than half the prewar average, with nearly 80 percent of transiting vessels traveling unconfirmed routes under effective US naval escort.
- Washington appears to be pivoting from confrontation to slow economic strangulation, preparing a new sanctions wave targeting gold, cryptocurrency, technology, shipping, and aviation as Iran's Hormuz leverage quietly evaporates.
- The question facing Tehran has shifted from how to maintain its chokehold to how to negotiate an exit before the chokehold becomes worthless — and whether the window for a deal struck from perceived strength will survive the decade.
For generations, Iran has anchored its security doctrine on a single geographic fact: that a fifth of the world's energy must pass through a narrow strait it can threaten to close. Now, as Gulf neighbors quietly construct alternative pipelines that could render Hormuz strategically marginal within a decade, Tehran finds itself confronting a paradox of its own making — the very act of brandishing the lever has compelled the world to engineer its way around it. Senior Iranian officials, speaking with unusual candor, are acknowledging that economic collapse poses a graver threat to national survival than any military adversary, and that a negotiating window, however narrow, may be closing faster than the pipelines are opening.
For decades, Iran has held a rare geopolitical card: the ability to threaten closure of the Strait of Hormuz, the narrow passage through which roughly a fifth of global oil and gas flows. Tehran's leadership has treated this chokehold as foundational to its security — as consequential, officials have claimed, as a nuclear deterrent. But inside Iran, a quieter and more devastating conversation is now underway. The card is losing its value faster than anyone expected.
The analysis driving this alarm comes from figures like Hamid Paktinat of the Forum of Economic Activists, who has mapped the pipeline construction projects spreading across the Gulf. His conclusions are stark: within three years, the strait's strategic importance could be halved; within six, it may be nearly irrelevant. Saudi Arabia's dependence on Hormuz would fall from 70 percent to 15 percent. The UAE, Kuwait, Qatar, and even Iraq — currently 100 percent reliant on the waterway — would all find alternative routes. The world is not waiting for Iran's permission to restructure its energy infrastructure.
This erosion has produced an unusual candor among Iran's senior leadership. Parliamentary speaker Mohammad Bagher Ghalibaf — a military figure — declared publicly that strength means nothing when people are hungry and the economy is collapsing. President Masoud Pezeshkian argued that Iran should seek a deal now, while it still believes it negotiates from a position of strength, rather than waiting until that position disappears entirely. The central bank governor catalogued the simultaneous pressures bearing down: maximum sanctions, oil export restrictions, and budget collapse, all arriving at once. A neighboring official, he recounted, had told him that if even a fifth of Iran's economic crisis struck their own country, governance would become impossible.
At the heart of this reckoning lies what one Tehran-based geo-economics journalist calls the Hormuz paradox. A threat repeated constantly transforms from deterrence into habit, and habit without results eventually becomes hollow. More critically, every time Iran brandishes the waterway as a weapon, the world responds by building around it. The strategy designed to guarantee security may instead be guaranteeing its own obsolescence.
The strait has not yet gone quiet. Between August 1 and 19, only 112 oil and gas tankers transited Hormuz, with nearly 79 percent traveling unconfirmed routes — likely with transponders off, moving under US naval protection along the southern passage. Independent ship trackers estimate daily throughput at around 6 million barrels, less than half the prewar average, even as US officials claimed figures closer to 8 million. The International Maritime Organization's secretary general stated plainly that given the small number of transiting vessels, the strait is, in practice, not open.
What matters most, however, is not the current trickle but the trajectory. As alternative pipelines come online across the Gulf, more than half of prewar exports will bypass Hormuz entirely before the decade ends. The United States, meanwhile, is preparing a new wave of economic pressure targeting gold, cryptocurrency, technology, shipping, and aviation — a strategy of gradual strangulation now that the Hormuz card is fading. The question facing Tehran is no longer how to maintain its chokehold on the world economy, but how to survive — and negotiate — in a world that is steadily learning to live without it.
For decades, Iran has held a card that few nations possess: control over one of the world's most critical waterways. The Strait of Hormuz, a narrow passage between Iran and Oman through which roughly a fifth of global oil and gas flows, has been framed by Tehran's leadership as the foundation of its security strategy—as consequential, officials have claimed, as possessing a nuclear weapon. But inside Iran, a quieter and more urgent conversation is taking place. The card, it seems, is losing its value faster than anyone expected.
The debate raging through Tehran's corridors of power centers on a simple, devastating premise: what happens when the world no longer needs the Hormuz chokehold? Hamid Paktinat, founder of the Forum of Economic Activists, has conducted a detailed analysis of pipeline construction projects across the Gulf region. His conclusion is stark. Within three years, he estimates, the strategic importance of the strait will be cut in half. Within six years, it may become almost irrelevant. Saudi Arabia's dependence on Hormuz would plummet from 70 percent to 15 percent. The United Arab Emirates would drop from 50 percent to 15 percent. Kuwait and Qatar would fall from total reliance to less than half. Even Iraq, currently 100 percent dependent on the waterway, would reduce its exposure to 30 percent. The alternative pipelines being built across the region represent a fundamental restructuring of global energy infrastructure—and they are happening now.
This erosion of leverage has triggered an unusual candor among Iran's senior leadership. Mohammad Bagher Ghalibaf, the parliamentary speaker and a military figure himself, recently made remarks that would have been unthinkable in Tehran's political circles just months ago. Military strength means nothing, he said, if people are hungry and the economy is collapsing. Security cannot survive without a functioning economy. "We know the value of peace better than those who talk about peace," he added, speaking from his background in the armed forces. President Masoud Pezeshkian was even more direct: the war must end, he said, and Iran should seek a deal now, while it still believes it negotiates from strength, rather than waiting until that position weakens further. The central bank governor, Abdolnaser Hemmati, went on television to catalog the pressures mounting on Iran's economy: maximum sanctions, blockade, oil export restrictions, and budget collapse, all pressing simultaneously. He recounted a conversation with a neighboring official who said that if even one-fifth of Iran's economic crisis occurred in their country, governance would become impossible.
What drives this language is not abstract strategy but the concrete suffering of ordinary Iranians. The pressure on daily life has become impossible to ignore, and with it has come a recognition that the strait cannot serve as a permanent security doctrine. Hamid Asefi, a Tehran-based journalist specializing in geo-economics, has articulated what he calls the Hormuz paradox. A threat repeated constantly transforms from deterrence into habit, and habit without concrete results eventually becomes hollow. The real question, he argues, is no longer whether Iran can close the strait—it clearly can—but whether closing it serves Iran's interests or traps Iran behind its own leverage. The paradox cuts deeper: a lever constantly displayed forces others to plan around it. Every time Iran threatens the waterway, the world responds by building alternatives. The strategy that was meant to guarantee security may instead guarantee its own obsolescence.
Yet the strait has not become irrelevant overnight. Between August 1 and 19, only 112 oil and gas tankers transited Hormuz, according to ship-tracking data from Kpler. Nearly 79 percent used routes that could not be confirmed, while 19 percent used Iran's preferred northern route and 2 percent used the Omani route. Many of the unconfirmed vessels likely turned off their transponders and traveled under US naval protection along the southern route. Saudi, Emirati, Qatari, and Kuwaiti oil companies, with US government support, have chartered tankers to move cargo through the southern route to the Gulf of Oman, where it transfers to waiting vessels. The risk has shifted from commercial shipping companies to state oil producers and the US military. Iran has compiled a blacklist of approximately 48 ships it intends to ban or fine. The US secretary of energy, Chris Wright, claimed that American naval forces had assisted in transferring more than 15 million barrels through the strait, and that daily throughput had reached more than 8 million barrels. But independent ship trackers estimate the actual daily figure closer to 6 million barrels—less than half the prewar average. Even the International Maritime Organization's secretary general, Arsenio Dominguez, contradicted the Trump administration's claims, stating bluntly that given the small number of ships transiting, the strait is "in practice, not open."
What matters most is not the current flow but the trajectory. The alternative pipeline network being constructed across the Gulf represents a permanent shift in how the region will export energy. By the end of this decade, more than half of prewar Gulf exports will bypass Hormuz entirely. Oman, currently independent of the strait, will become a major regional oil transfer hub. The narrow waterway that has been the center of Iranian strategic gravity for generations will remain physically unchanged, but its geopolitical weight will have evaporated. Meanwhile, the United States is preparing a new wave of economic pressure, targeting five key sectors: gold, cryptocurrency, technology, shipping, and aviation. The Trump administration appears to be betting that gradual economic strangulation—slowly choking off Iran's vital economic arteries—may be its only viable strategy now that the Hormuz card is losing its power. Success is uncertain. But as the alternative pipelines come online and Iran's leverage diminishes, the question facing Tehran is no longer how to maintain its chokehold on the world economy, but how to survive in a world that no longer needs it.
Citations marquantes
The war must end at some point. Iran should end the conflict now, while Tehran still believes it is negotiating from a position of strength.— Iranian President Masoud Pezeshkian
If people are hungry and there is no economic growth, the country cannot endure. Security cannot be sustained without a functioning economy.— Parliamentary Speaker Mohammad Bagher Ghalibaf
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