Strait of Hormuz May Reopen, but Global Trust Is Harder to Restore

U.S. President Donald Trump said a deal to reopen the Strait of Hormuz has been largely negotiated, which could calm markets in the short term. But the deeper significance of the current crisis lies elsewhere. The issue is no longer just whether trade routes are open or closed, but who controls access to them.

The specific terms of any agreement may shift, and any diplomatic deal could face delays, disputes, or revisions. Yet the broader trend is unmistakable: strategic trade routes are increasingly being managed through a political lens, exposing commercial vulnerabilities and becoming objects of geopolitical competition.

The danger is not necessarily diplomatic failure. The more significant risk is that diplomacy succeeds just enough to mask a fragile order as stability. Temporary calm is not the same as strategic stability. Calm can be negotiated; stability must be trusted.

Thus, the most important shift is not from war to peace, but from disruption to governance. Iran's plans to establish a Strait of Hormuz governance body with greater influence over transit decisions and the ability to collect passage fees signal Tehran's effort to convert temporary leverage into a permanent role in managing the waterway.

The strategic question is moving from access to governance. Access concerns whether ships can pass. Governance concerns who sets the rules, prices risk, controls exemptions, and decides when normal trade becomes conditional.

This matters not only for the Gulf but for the entire international system. Nations heavily dependent on maritime trade now face a situation where commercial access is shaped not just by markets but by geopolitical pressure, sanctions leverage, naval power, and crisis diplomacy.

Asia remains at the heart of this calculation. China, India, Japan, and South Korea are major Gulf energy consumers, and much of the trade risk from Strait of Hormuz instability will ripple eastward. Many developing economies remain vulnerable to energy volatility and shipping disruptions while wielding little influence over the geopolitical struggles around them.

The emerging pattern reveals a world where trade continues, but only under provisional political conditions that must be constantly renegotiated. Modern commerce depends on more than physical access. It depends on predictability, insurance, legal clarity, naval confidence, and the belief that today's route will still be viable tomorrow.

This is the difference between de-escalation and normalization. De-escalation reduces the risk of direct conflict. Normalization restores trust. Currently, the first may be achievable, but the second remains distant.

For markets, this distinction is critical. If a deal is announced, the reopening could be treated as a solution. That would be premature. Temporary calm can easily be mispriced as lasting stability. Shipping costs may fall, energy prices may cool, and stock markets may rally. Yet none of this necessarily means the underlying risk has disappeared. It may only mean the crisis has been deferred to the next negotiation cycle.

The process has consequences far beyond oil. Refineries must plan purchases based on shifting risk premiums. Manufacturers must factor energy and shipping volatility into margins. Insurers must reassess risk levels. Shipping lines must make routing decisions amid political uncertainty. Banks and traders must account for sanctions risk, payment disruptions, and compliance costs.

This is how geopolitical instability seeps into the global economy: not only through dramatic shocks but through recurring uncertainty that incrementally raises the cost of routine trade.

The larger lesson from the Strait of Hormuz crisis is that globalization is not ending. It is becoming more politically exposed and more strategically conditional. Companies and governments that built assumptions on friction-free movement must now operate in a world where transit, payments, insurance, ports, and suppliers are increasingly vulnerable to geopolitical pressure. The Strait of Hormuz is just one chokepoint. But because of its centrality to global energy flows, it has become one of the clearest examples of this broader transformation.

For policymakers, responding to the current crisis requires more than assurances that ships are moving again. It demands coordination among governments, commercial operators, insurers, shipping lines, and energy buyers. It also requires recognition that strategic infrastructure can no longer be treated as politically neutral.

For boardrooms, the lesson is similar. Geopolitical risk can no longer be left outside decisions on procurement, logistics, treasury, and insurance. The question is no longer whether a crisis will disrupt trade. It is whether business models can absorb recurring instability without losing resilience or strategic flexibility.

Whatever happens with ongoing talks between Iran and the U.S., one thing is certain: we are unlikely to return to the old assumption that global trade can move through strategic chokepoints as if geopolitics were only background noise.