Oman Aims to Preserve the Status of the Strait

Mehran Haghirian and Abdullah Baabood

Bourse & Bazaar Foundation

April 7, 2026

The Strait of Hormuz has always mattered, but rarely has that been as visible as it is today. For centuries, it has linked the Gulf to wider trading routes across Asia, Africa, and Europe. Today, a significant share of the world’s energy supplies and other commodities pass through this narrow stretch of water. When Hormuz is disrupted, the effects are not regional, but global, and they are felt quickly. It is for this reason that U.S. President Donald Trump has threatened to send Iran back to “stone ages” if it does not reopen the Strait.

What began as a military escalation between the United States, Israel, and Iran on February 28 is now spilling into the infrastructure that sustains global connectivity. Shipping routes are under pressure, insurance costs are rising, and commercial operators are hesitating. The Strait has not been formally closed, but it is no longer functioning normally. That distinction matters less than it once did. In practical terms, constraint can be as disruptive as closure.

Against this backdrop, recent talks between Iran and Oman are significant. As the Strait falls in shared Iranian and Omani waters, officials from both sides have met to discuss how to ensure the continued passage of vessels under current conditions. On the surface, this may appear as crisis management and an attempt to keep traffic moving and prevent further escalation. But it also raises a more fundamental question of who gets to shape the rules of access to one of the world’s most important waterways?

The talks with Iran are consistent with that approach. Oman is trying to reduce risk, keep communications open, and prevent escalation from spiraling further. But there are limits to what it can or will support. Oman’s interests are tied to the uninterrupted functioning of the Strait. Its economy depends on it. Its regional relationships depend on it. Its diplomatic credibility depends on it. Any arrangement that conditions or politicizes passage would put all of that at risk. Engagement, in this context, should not be mistaken for endorsement.

Tehran is exploring ways to exert greater control over transit, whether through coordination mechanisms, selective passage, or other forms of informal regulation. Even if presented as technical or temporary measures, such ideas carry wider implications. They suggest an Iranian attempt, however tentative, to redefine how the Strait operates for seven other countries who depend on it as well as the entire international community who relies on it.

But that is where the problem lies. The Strait of Hormuz is not something that can be reorganized through bilateral understandings, even between actors as central as Iran and Oman. It is, in every meaningful sense, an international waterway. Its openness is not just a legal principle; it is a practical necessity for the functioning of the global economy. Energy flows, supply chains, shipping networks, and financial systems all converge at this narrow point.

That reality places clear limits on what any one country, or even a small group of countries, can do. Efforts to impose new conditions on passage, whether formal or informal, are unlikely to hold. The number of stakeholders is simply too large, and their interests too deeply embedded. From Asian energy importers to European industries, the costs of disruption extend far beyond the Gulf. This is not a regional issue that can be managed quietly. It is a systemic one that inevitably draws in wider attention.

Diplomatic activity is picking up at the United Nations and by global leaders as conversations about maritime security are expanding beyond the region. Bahrain’s resolution demanding an end to Iranian actions in the Strait was co-sponsored by 135 countries. While another resolution was vetoed by China and Russia at the Security Council, there is a growing, if still cautious, recognition that freedom of navigation in the Strait cannot be left exposed to prolonged uncertainty or unilateral pressure.

Iran itself seemed to acknowledge this logic not long ago. In 2019, it proposed the Hormuz Peace Endeavor (HOPE), which rested on the idea that stability in the Strait requires collective responsibility. Its current actions are moving in the opposite direction.

This kind of ambiguity can be useful in the short term. It creates leverage without forcing a decisive confrontation. But it is not stable. Markets do not adapt well to prolonged uncertainty, and neither do supply chains. Over time, pressure builds-for clarity, for predictability, and ultimately for intervention.

This is where Oman’s role becomes particularly important. Muscat has long positioned itself as a mediator with open channels to Iran while remaining closely connected to its GCC partners and the broader international community. Its approach is often described as neutral, but that can be misleading. It is not neutrality for its own sake; it is a strategy aimed at preserving stability in a difficult and unstable environment.

There is also a longer historical thread here. During the Iran-Iraq War, when tanker routes in the Gulf were under direct threat, Oman resisted efforts to frame regional security in purely confrontational terms. Sultan Qaboos understood that stability required coexistence, even among adversaries. During the Iran-Iraq War in 1984, Sultan Qaboos argued that “here in Muscat we do not believe it to be in the interest of security in the Gulf that Iran feels we intend to establish an Arab military pact that will always be hostile to it, or that we are about to form a joint force, whose main task is to fight Iran.” He further added that “there is no alternative to peaceful coexistence between Arabs and Persians in the end, and there is no alternative to a minimum of accord in the region.” That insight still holds.

Yet the current trajectory risks moving in a different direction. By raising the cost and risk of passage through Hormuz, Iran may be seeking to deter external involvement. In practice, it could have the opposite effect. The more the Strait becomes a source of sustained disruption, the more likely it is to attract broader international engagement and intervention. What begins as a regional pressure tactic can quickly become a global concern.

For the Gulf states, the implications are equally significant. Their preference for de-escalation and economic transformation is harder to sustain if their primary economic lifeline is directly threatened. At some point, restraint stops looking like prudence and starts looking like exposure.

That is the strategic paradox. Iran’s approach is designed to increase leverage but it risks triggering the internationalization of the conflict beyond control. Efforts to change the status quo and access to the Strait may ultimately lead to greater external involvement, be it through maritime coordination, naval presence, or more direct measures.

The Strait of Hormuz is too central to the global system to remain in prolonged uncertainty. It will remain an international waterway not simply because of legal norms, but because the world cannot function without it. The real question is how far the current disruption is allowed to go before that reality is enforced, and what the region looks like by the time that point is reached.