The Strait of Hormuz crisis: Why the US may be heading toward a strategic disaster
When the US and Israel choose the logic of coercive pressure on Iran, they inevitably step into more than just another Middle Eastern crisis. They enter one of the most dangerous knots in world politics.
Here, military geography is directly bound up with global energy flows, the internal resilience of states, and the limits of American power projection. The war that began in late February 2026 has already crossed the line beyond which it can no longer be described as a localized air campaign and has started to affect global markets, US alliances, and the very architecture of security in the Persian Gulf.
Under normal conditions, around a fifth of global liquid hydrocarbon consumption passes through the Strait of Hormuz, along with a fifth of global LNG trade. At the same time, Iran’s island-based oil export infrastructure remains one of the key arteries of the country’s economy. Judging by media reporting and official US notices, the dynamics of the first weeks of the conflict already show that actual developments have diverged significantly from what the initiators of the escalation likely expected. If the plan had been working in full, the US would not have had to scramble to assemble an international coalition to restore shipping, admit that military escorts remain too risky for now, or face refusals from allies to join an operation in the Strait of Hormuz. The mere fact that even after large-scale strikes, the question of safe passage for commercial vessels remains unresolved, and that allies are in no hurry to share the military burden, points to a fairly well-grounded conclusion: The situation has clearly not unfolded according to the desired script.
Judging by the rhetoric and the overall design of the campaign, the calculation appears to have rested on a classic formula: A swift decapitating strike, the destruction of command structures, psychological shock, elite disorientation, and then an internal fracture of the political system, creating an opening for pro-Western forces to seize the initiative. In public discourse, this is almost never stated explicitly, yet the logic of these campaigns can be read from the target set, the tempo of strikes, and the expectation of rapid political effect. But in Iran’s case, the opposite occurred. The system did not collapse. Iran retained governability, continued to strike back, and external pressure worked as a factor of consolidation rather than disintegration. Even analysts sharply critical of Tehran acknowledge that air power by itself has neither produced political collapse nor resolved the issue of control over strategic resources, the nuclear program, and the vertical structure of power. This is precisely why the current discussion of a possible ground operation arises not as a sign of confidence, but as a sign of strategic dissatisfaction with the results so far.
Airstrikes can destroy facilities, hit infrastructure, and kill commanders. But they cannot occupy territory, clear mines from a strait, physically guarantee the passage of tankers, or hold islands under sustained enemy pressure. When political leadership begins to look toward an amphibious or ground component, it almost always means one thing: Air power alone has failed to produce the desired political outcome.
This is where the issue of Kharg Island, as well as the islands adjacent to the Strait of Hormuz, comes into focus. Kharg is of near-systemic importance to Iran. According to open energy data, the island terminals at Kharg, Lavan, and Sirri handle almost all of Iran’s oil exports, while Kharg itself has historically remained the country’s principal export hub. Its importance is so great that even strikes against the military segment of infrastructure on the island immediately reverberate through prices and market expectations. From the standpoint of military strategy, the temptation is obvious. To seize control of Kharg, or at least disable it for an extended period, would mean striking not at the periphery, but at the nerve center of Iran’s economy.
No less important is the other cluster of islands near the entrance to the Strait of Hormuz. Abu Musa, Greater Tunb, and Lesser Tunb have long been regarded as strategic points enabling control over the approaches to the strait and strengthening anti-ship defenses. In the expert literature, these islands are explicitly described as positions that dominate the approaches to Hormuz. For any outside power, the idea of seizing such these is attractive. It creates the illusion that by capturing a few nodal islands, Iran’s capacity to obstruct maritime routes could be sharply degraded.
But the key word here is illusion. Iran’s strategy in this area has been built over decades not around a single island or a single battery, but around a multilayered anti-access system. It includes coastal missiles, mines, fast attack craft, drones, dispersed launchers, and the constant exploitation of geography that overwhelmingly favors Tehran. This is why a ground operation against mainland Iran itself looks highly unrealistic, while an operation against the islands appears only relatively more feasible, yet still exceptionally dangerous.
An invasion of the mainland would mean war against a large, populous, ideologically mobilized country with immense strategic depth, difficult terrain, and tens of millions of people. Neither the current force posture nor the political willingness of the US to pay the corresponding price points to this step. Even the strengthening of the US military presence in the region and the redeployment of Marines do not prove preparations for a full-scale occupation campaign. These are more likely instruments of pressure, base protection, enhanced amphibious flexibility, and additional leverage for limited operations.
A limited operation to seize or blockade islands, however, is at least theoretically possible. In this sense, Kharg appears both a more significant and a more dangerous target than the smaller islands near the strait. For the US, the move would represent an attempt to wrest back the initiative by force. For Iran, it would be a direct signal that the war has crossed into an assault on key elements of national sovereignty and vital economic infrastructure. Once that threshold is crossed, Tehran would have little incentive left for restraint. On the contrary, the logic of retaliation would become far harsher. The issue would no longer just be strikes on Israel, but the systematic intensification of attacks on the US military presence in Iraq, Syria, and the Gulf states, as well as the entire regional infrastructure that enables the US to wage this war. This type of escalation is not a dramatic hypothesis for effect. It is almost a direct consequence of the military-political logic of the conflict.
It is already clear that even without a ground phase, the conflict is costly for the American side. According to confirmed reports, the US has suffered personnel losses. American servicemembers have been killed, and there are dozens wounded, perhaps around 150, including seriously wounded personnel. Strikes have been recorded against US facilities and diplomatic sites. The State Department has already ordered the evacuation of non-essential personnel and family members from a number of regional countries, including Qatar, the UAE, Iraq, and Saudi Arabia, while embassy and consular operations have in some places been reduced or suspended. In other words, this is no longer a sterile remote campaign, but a war that is hitting the very infrastructure of America’s presence in the Middle East.
The fact that even now, the US Navy is not prepared to take upon itself, unconditionally, the safe escort of commercial shipping through Hormuz is especially important when assessing the prospects of a ground operation. If the risk is already that high at the stage of protecting maritime traffic, how much higher would it be during an amphibious landing, the resupply of an occupied island, its air and missile defense, and the need to control surrounding waters under fire from the Iranian coast?
A war for an island in the Persian Gulf is not reducible to planting a flag over an airfield. The real cost is determined by whether the island can be held, supplied, and defended for weeks and months. And it is precisely here that Iran retains very serious capabilities to impose on its adversary a grinding regime of permanent threat.
Advocates of a hard-line scenario may object that the US possesses overwhelming technical superiority and can methodically dismantle Iran’s anti-access infrastructure. This is only true in part. Yes, the US can inflict enormous damage from the air and sea. But the problem is not whether many targets can be destroyed. The problem is that Iran does not need absolute victory. It only needs to sustain a critical level of chaos and uncertainty – enough for global markets to remain on edge, insurers to refuse coverage, shipowners to delay voyages, and Washington’s allies to begin doubting the cost of support. In these types of theaters, strategic effect is sometimes achieved not through the enemy’s total defeat, but by preserving the threat long enough. This is precisely the game Iran knows how to play.
That is why the closure, or the effectively paralyzing constriction, of the Strait of Hormuz has become perhaps the clearest proof that the expectation of Iran’s rapid capitulation has failed. Official US figures first spoke of the possibility of soon escorting commercial vessels, then admitted that this was not yet feasible, and then began pressing allies to take part in securing passage. Translated from diplomatic language, this means that Iran succeeded in imposing its own agenda and forcing its opponent to respond not where it wanted to, but where it had no choice. For a country that was supposed to be on the receiving end of a suppression campaign, this alone is already a serious strategic result.
The economic consequences also speak volumes. The market has already reacted with rising oil and gas prices, and American consumers have felt the higher costs. Energy assessments directly indicate that a prolonged disruption in Hormuz remains the principal risk factor for further price increases. If the maritime blockade is compounded by a strike on Kharg, or especially by an attempt to physically seize the island, the markets’ nervous reaction is almost certain to intensify. Energy shocks are typically followed by higher transportation costs, inflationary pressure, disruptions to production chains, and renewed strain on food markets. For a global economy already burdened by debt, sanctions, and trade wars, this could become yet another systemic blow.
Here it is especially important to understand the difference between military temptation and political prudence. From a military point of view, an island operation may appear to be a tidy alternative to a full-scale invasion: A small patch of land, a limited perimeter, the ability to rely on naval and air power, and a dramatic political gesture. But politically, it may prove one of the most toxic decisions imaginable. The seizure of an island critically important to Iranian exports would be perceived not as a limited wartime episode, but as an attempt to strangle the country and demonstratively deprive it of economic oxygen. After that, the window for de-escalation would shrink almost to zero, and the war itself would very likely enter a long phase of mutual attrition.
There is another problem often forgotten in these scenarios. Any captured island becomes a target. It requires a constant flow of ammunition, fuel, water, food, spare parts, air defense assets, and engineering supplies. It requires medical evacuation, rotations, and complex maritime logistics. All of this must move along limited routes within reach of Iranian missiles, drones, fast boats, and mine warfare. Even if the first wave of an operation proves successful, the second and third waves of resupply may become the point at which the main losses begin. In this sense, an island operation does not simplify the war. It merely transforms it into an expensive and nerve-racking military-logistical marathon.
Israel, in this case, would not necessarily find itself in a position of beneficiary either. Yes, from its perspective, weakening Iran is in itself strategically desirable. But if the US is drawn into an island or limited ground phase, the war becomes more American in its costs and consequences. And this means that Iran gains an additional incentive to shift the burden of attrition specifically onto American targets while continuing pressure on Israel. Put simply, the deeper the US enters this theater, the harder Iran will try to turn it into an American problem, not merely an Israeli-Iranian confrontation. The strikes already carried out against bases, diplomatic sites, and regional infrastructure show that this approach has already been implemented in practice.
Can an operation against Kharg or the islands near Hormuz be ruled out? No, and a limited island scenario appears far more realistic than an invasion deep into Iran. But more realistic does not mean more rational. The military success of the operation may prove tactical, while its strategic outcome for the US could be negative. Losses, rising energy prices, market volatility, new strikes on American personnel, worsening relations with allies, the widening of the war zone, and the prolongation of the conflict into a war of attrition may well outweigh any short-term gain from seizing a handful of island positions.
This is why the most sober conclusion today seems to be this: A limited ground operation by the US, and to a lesser extent Israel, against Iran’s island targets is possible. On the mainland, a ground operation seems highly improbable; on the islands, it is theoretically feasible. But the price would almost certainly be high, while the political result would not be certain. More than this, for Iran it would signal not retreat, but an even more intense transfer of the war onto US troops, bases, diplomats, logistics, and regional partners. In this case, Washington risks ending up not with a demonstration of strength, but with a negative case study in which tactical advance turns into strategic self-exhaustion. And the longer this gap persists between the expectation of a rapid breakthrough and the reality of prolonged resistance, the greater the chances that this scenario will become the defining outcome of the entire operation.
