Donald Trump now wants to guide ships through the Strait of Hormuz. After weeks of blockade, counter-blockade, threats, oil shocks and diplomatic theatre, Washington has discovered the art of humanitarian logistics. It calls the initiative “Project Freedom”. History may find a less flattering name. The plan, announced by Trump, is to help selected neutral vessels trapped in the Persian Gulf leave through Hormuz. These ships, he said, belong to people, companies and countries that have “done nothing wrong” and have simply become victims of circumstance. That part, at least, is true. Hundreds of tankers, bulk carriers and cargo ships remain stranded, their crews short of food, supplies and certainty, while governments turn a strategic waterway into a bargaining chip. The United States says Central Command will support the effort with destroyers, aircraft and drones. Yet, for now, this does not appear to be a full naval escort operation. It is more likely to be a coordination mechanism involving states, insurers, shipowners and maritime organisations. In plain English: Washington wants to help traffic move without formally conceding that it has lost control of the broader situation.

The problem is that the Strait of Hormuz is no longer merely a shipping lane. It has become the centre of the war’s logic. Iran closed it in practice after the American-Israeli strikes. The United States then imposed a naval blockade on Iranian ports, hoping to suffocate Tehran’s oil revenues and force concessions. Iran responded by keeping the strait largely shut, insisting that there can be no normal passage while its own exports are blocked. Each side now claims to defend freedom of navigation while making navigation impossible. Iran has already warned that any American interference in the strait would be considered a violation of the ceasefire. The chairman of the Iranian parliament’s national security committee dismissed Trump’s announcement as delusional, making clear that Tehran does not intend to let Washington dictate the management of the Gulf. This is the familiar geometry of the crisis: America announces pressure, Iran turns pressure into leverage, and the rest of the world pays the bill.

Oil prices show the market’s scepticism. Brent remained around 108 dollars a barrel, after briefly falling on the hope that Trump’s plan might ease the bottleneck. Traders understand that guiding a few neutral ships out of the Gulf is not the same as reopening Hormuz. It may help some crews. It may reduce some immediate political embarrassment. It does not restore the normal flow of oil, gas and goods through a corridor that usually carries around one-fifth of global oil and LNG. At the same time, Trump continues to cast doubt on Iran’s latest peace proposal. Tehran has reportedly offered a 30-day framework to negotiate the reopening of Hormuz, the end of the US blockade, and a halt to the fighting in Iran and Lebanon, followed by a separate month of talks on the nuclear programme. Iran’s version of the plan also includes demands for sanctions relief, guarantees against future strikes, the lifting of the maritime blockade and, according to Iranian reporting, reparations. The nuclear issue is carefully postponed. Washington, unsurprisingly, is not convinced. Trump says he has seen the “concept” of the deal but doubts it will be acceptable. He has also refused to rule out renewed strikes if Iran “behaves badly”. This is not diplomacy; it is diplomacy under artillery cover. Iran, for its part, says it is reviewing the American response transmitted through Pakistan, while insisting that it will continue talks only if Washington abandons excessive demands, threats and provocative actions. Both sides claim to want peace. Both continue to prepare for escalation.

The economic consequences are already visible. OPEC+ has agreed to a modest increase of 188,000 barrels a day for June, led by Saudi Arabia and Russia, but this is largely symbolic while Hormuz remains blocked. Production cannot solve a transport problem when the exit door is closed. Gulf producers have already had to curtail output because storage is filling. Iran itself has begun reducing production to avoid reaching tank capacity, a sign that the blockade is hurting, though not necessarily fast enough to force surrender. Meanwhile, the United States has become the supplier of last resort. In nine weeks, more than 250 million barrels of US crude have been shipped abroad, with cargoes heading to Japan, Thailand, Australia and other Asian buyers desperate to replace Middle Eastern supply. America has overtaken Saudi Arabia as the world’s largest crude exporter, but this victory carries its own irony. US inventories are falling. Fuel stocks are below historical averages. Petrol prices at home are rising, already above 4 dollars a gallon, and diesel has become significantly more expensive. Trump can boast of energy dominance, but voters see the pump.

This is the contradiction at the heart of the American position. Washington wants to blockade Iran, replace disrupted Gulf flows with US exports, reassure global markets, protect domestic consumers, pressure Tehran, avoid a wider war, and still claim that the situation is under control. That is not a strategy. It is a collection of incompatible ambitions held together by press releases. The shipping industry has recognised the risk more quickly than politicians. The world’s largest container carrier, MSC, is preparing routes that avoid Hormuz altogether, combining sea transport to Saudi Arabia’s Red Sea ports with trucking across the kingdom and smaller vessels into the Gulf. Maersk and Hapag-Lloyd are exploring similar land-bridge solutions. These routes are slower, more expensive and less efficient. But they reveal something essential: business is no longer waiting for normality to return. It is adapting to abnormality. And that may be the most dangerous part. Once trade routes adapt to a crisis, the crisis becomes part of the operating model. Higher transport costs, higher insurance costs, higher energy prices, higher inventory levels, and lower efficiency. A tax on globalisation, collected by geopolitics.

Trump’s “Project Freedom” may release some stranded ships. It may provide images of order after weeks of chaos. It may even offer a small humanitarian relief to crews trapped in a floating no-man’s land. But it does not solve the war. It does not reopen Hormuz. It does not reconcile the American blockade with Iranian control. It does not answer the nuclear question. It does not restore energy flows. It merely escorts a few vessels through the wreckage of a strategy that has trapped everyone else.