INVESTIGATION: Hormuz after 60 days — Iran wants tolls, Rubio says no

A stretch of sea, a fundamental fracture

The Strait of Hormuz is one of the most strategically vital maritime passages on the planet. Approximately 33 kilometers wide at its narrowest point between the Arabian Peninsula and Iranian territory, this maritime corridor concentrates approximately one-fifth of the world's oil and liquefied natural gas trade. For more than three months, from late February to mid-June 2026, Iran had blocked or severely restricted this transit, triggering a global energy crisis whose effects were felt from Iowa gas stations to Southeast Asian factories. The signing of the MoU on June 17 reopened this corridor. But the question of who controls this strait — and at what cost — has become the most dangerous fault line of the post-agreement era.

The memorandum of understanding of June 17, 2026 explicitly provided for the reopening of the Strait of Hormuz with free passage for all commercial vessels for an initial period of 60 days. After these 60 days, the text provides that Iran and the coastal Gulf nations — notably Oman — will negotiate "the future administration and maritime services of the Strait of Hormuz," in accordance with applicable international law. This deliberately ambiguous formulation was interpreted by Iran as opening the door to transit fees after the 60 days. The United States and Secretary of State Marco Rubio hold a radically different reading.

Rubio in Abu Dhabi: a red line drawn publicly

On June 23, 2026, at a press conference in Abu Dhabi on the sidelines of a Gulf tour, U.S. Secretary of State Marco Rubio publicly drew an unequivocal red line: "This is an international waterway. No country is allowed to levy toll or fees on an international waterway. This is existing international law. This is how it works for international waterways around the world, and this is what we expect here." This statement, reported by The Guardian of June 23, The National of June 24 and numerous other media, represented Washington's firmest official position on this question since the signing of the MoU.

The Iranian reaction was not long in coming. On June 24, Iran and Oman published a joint statement announcing the creation of a working group to "study the administration of the Strait of Hormuz and the costs to be charged for services," according to Times of Israel of June 24. This working group, presented as a study and planning initiative, was in reality a clear political signal: Tehran had not abandoned the prospect of collecting long-term fees, and was seeking to build a regional coalition with Oman to legitimize this position.

A strait 33 kilometers wide. And around it, a war of definitions — an "international" strait for Rubio and the law of the sea, a "sovereign territory" from which Iran wants economic compensation. These two positions are not simply different. They are incompatible. And this incompatibility will be, in my view, one of the most explosive questions of the 60-day negotiation — perhaps even more complicated than the nuclear issue, because it directly touches on Iranian sovereignty and the economic interests of every power that depends on this corridor.

The legal framework for transit through straits

International law on transit through straits is primarily defined by the United Nations Convention on the Law of the Sea (UNCLOS), adopted in 1982. Article 38 of UNCLOS establishes the principle of "transit passage" through straits used for international navigation: all vessels — commercial and military — have the right of transit passage through such straits, without interruption and without impediment. This right is distinct from the right of innocent passage applicable in territorial waters; it is stronger, more absolute, and does not permit the coastal state to condition this transit on prior authorization or fees.

UNCLOS does not explicitly stipulate that coastal states cannot charge for "services" — pilotage, environmental monitoring, emergency services — for ships in transit. This legal nuance is precisely the entry point that Iran and Oman use in their June 24 statement: speaking of "costs for services" rather than "transit fees." The distinction is subtle, but it carries real legal significance. Rubio, by responding that "no country is allowed to levy fees or tolls on an international waterway," used language that covers direct transit charges — but that could be challenged if Iran reformulates its demand as specific service fees.

Iran has not ratified UNCLOS

A legally significant detail: Iran has not ratified UNCLOS. Tehran considers that the right of transit through the Strait of Hormuz is governed by bilateral agreements and by the principle of national sovereignty over Iranian and Omani territorial waters through which the navigation route passes. This non-ratification is not trivial: it allows Iran to contest the direct application of UNCLOS articles to its situation, and to claim a different legal regime based on its coastal sovereignty.

The United States, for their part, have also not ratified UNCLOS — but they apply its principles as customary international law. This dual non-ratification means that the dispute over Hormuz tolls plays out in a partially undefined international legal space — which advantages the party that prefers ambiguity. And in the current negotiations, Iran is the country that has an interest in maintaining ambiguity about its long-term rights over the strait.

Iran has not signed UNCLOS. The United States hasn't either. And both countries are publicly arguing over rights in a strait whose legal regime is partially defined by a convention that neither has ratified. If this situation were an international law exam, it would receive the grade "maximum complexity." In geopolitical reality, it means that the question of Hormuz tolls will not be resolved in treaties — it will be resolved in balances of power. And balances of power in a 33-kilometer strait mean American warships and Iranian mines.

The statement of June 2, 2026

On June 2, 2026, testifying before the Senate Foreign Relations Committee, Marco Rubio revealed that Iran had mined "large segments" of the Strait of Hormuz. His exact statement, reported by CNBC of June 2, 2026: "They are shooting at ships and have mined segments of Hormuz — international waters. What they are doing is illegal." This revelation underscored that the Iranian threat to the strait was not limited to a passive blockade, but involved active military action — the laying of mines — in waters that international law classifies as international.

The presence of mines in the strait raises an important operational question: who will conduct demining, and on what timeline? The June 17 MoU does not explicitly mention mines. It stipulates that Iran will "take measures using all its efforts" to ensure the safe passage of commercial vessels — a vague formulation that could include or exclude demining depending on the interpretation chosen. Rubio had specified in June that any agreement must include Iran's commitment to "not charge transit fees, not attack commercial vessels, and help with the removal of mines it has placed."

The state of demining as of June 24, 2026

At the time of writing this article, no official communiqué confirms that systematic demining operations are underway in the Strait of Hormuz. Maritime traffic has resumed and intensified — according to MarineTraffic cited by Iran International of June 23, crossings had nearly tripled in one week. But the resumption of traffic does not necessarily imply that the mines have been removed: ships could be navigating on swept routes or guided by Iranian transit authorities, without minefields in other areas of the strait having been eliminated.

This uncertainty over mines represents a persistent risk for commercial navigation in the strait. An incident involving a civilian vessel — a mine that explodes, even accidentally — could trigger a diplomatic crisis and restart an escalation spiral that the MoU was precisely meant to prevent. The demining question should figure at the top of the 60-day technical negotiation priorities. It appears, at this stage, to be treated with a discretion that does not reflect its real urgency.

Mines in a strait where 93 ships transited during the week of June 19-21. I say this clearly because diplomatic communiqués say it in diplomatic language: "measures to ensure safe passage." But mines are not defused with memoranda of understanding. They are defused with divers, minesweepers, precise GPS coordinates, and the cooperation of whoever placed them. Is Iran cooperating on demining? Are operations underway? I don't know with certainty — and that is precisely the problem.

The joint statement of June 24

The Iranian-Omani joint statement of June 24, 2026 was published after a meeting in Muscat between Iranian Parliament Speaker Mohammad Bagher Ghalibaf, Iranian Foreign Minister Abbas Araghchi, Oman's Sultan Haitham, and Omani Foreign Minister Badr Al Busaidi. According to Times of Israel of June 24, the statement announced that the two countries would "study the administration of the commercial route and the costs to be charged for services, insisting on their sovereignty over the strait."

The formulation is calculated: it speaks of "sovereignty" (which is real — both countries have overlapping territorial waters in the strait), it speaks of "services" rather than "transit," and it frames the initiative as a preliminary study rather than a final decision. These language choices are designed to resist American legal objections while clearly signaling the political intent: Tehran is laying the groundwork for transit fees after the 60 days, and building a common front with Oman to give it regional legitimacy.

Oman as a key actor

Oman occupies a unique position in this configuration. The Sultanate is one of the Gulf states diplomatically closest to Iran — it has served as an intermediary in several previous crises, notably in the secret negotiations that preceded the 2015 nuclear agreement. Oman shares the southern shore of the Strait of Hormuz with Iran and has direct economic interests in any discussion on the governance regime of the maritime corridor. Its participation in this initiative with Tehran gives the Iranian position on tolls a regional legitimacy it would not have if Iran acted alone.

But Oman is also a member of the Gulf Cooperation Council (GCC) and maintains close relations with the United States. Its customary mediator position gives it an interest in not being perceived as taking sides against Washington. The joint statement of June 24, by speaking of "services" rather than "tolls," offers Muscat political cover: Oman can support the Iranian position without directly running up against the American red line on "transit fees." This is razor-edge diplomacy.

Oman is the pivot country in this affair. It does business with everyone — with Iran, with the United States, with Gulf states. Its participation in the June 24 statement is not a hostile act toward Washington. It is a calculated positioning move to ensure a seat at the table of the future Hormuz negotiation. Muscat knows that any agreement on the strait that ignores Oman's sovereign rights would be unacceptable to the Sultanate. This move, too, deserves to be understood for what it is: protection of national interests, not complicity with Tehran.

Saudi Arabia and the UAE: maximum exposure

Saudi Arabia and the United Arab Emirates are the countries that have the most to lose if the Hormuz governance regime deteriorates. Their oil exports transit massively through this corridor. If Iran were to impose transit fees — even modest ones — or burdensome prior-authorization procedures, the cost to their exports and the viability of their hydrocarbon-dependent economic models would be considerable. These two countries therefore have a direct and immediate interest in Rubio's position — no fees, ever — being preserved in the final agreement.

But Gulf states are also in the uncomfortable position of being potential funders of the $300 billion Iranian reconstruction fund mentioned in the MoU. If this fund is perceived in Riyadh and Abu Dhabi as funding future Iranian military capabilities — missiles, regional proxies — their enthusiasm will be proportionally limited. Rubio's visit to the region on June 23 had precisely the aim of reassuring Gulf partners on these two points: no fees at Hormuz, and the $300 billion fund conditioned on Iranian behavior. These two verbal commitments are necessary but not sufficient for the region's capitals.

Alternative pipelines and the limits of diversification

In the years preceding the 2026 war, alternative pipeline projects had been developed precisely to reduce dependence on the Strait of Hormuz. Saudi Arabia has the Petroline (East-West Pipeline), capable of transporting part of Saudi oil to the Red Sea and Mediterranean coast without passing through Hormuz. The UAE built the Abu Dhabi Crude Oil Pipeline (ADCOP), allowing oil export via the port of Fujairah on the Indian Ocean coast.

But these alternatives have limited capacities covering only a portion of the region's exports. Kuwaiti oil, Qatari gas, Iraqi oil — they have no comparable alternatives and depend entirely on Hormuz transit. Which means that even if Saudi Arabia and the UAE can theoretically bypass the strait for part of their exports, the rest of the region remains structurally hostage to Iranian will over this corridor. This irreducible geographic reality gives Tehran a permanent negotiating lever that neither the MoU nor the 60-day negotiations can eliminate.

Geography cannot be negotiated. Hormuz is where it is. Iran is on the side it's on. And this physical reality — a 33-kilometer strait between two shores, one of which belongs to Iran — is the foundation of all Iranian leverage in this negotiation. No diplomatic agreement can change geography. What negotiators can do is create rules and enforcement mechanisms robust enough that Iran has no interest in exploiting this geographic lever. If these rules are vague — as in the current MoU — geography wins. Always.

What would tolls in the strait actually cost?

Iran has not published official tariffs for possible transit fees in the Strait of Hormuz. But estimates circulate among maritime experts on what fees "for services" could represent. A fee system based on vessel tonnage — similar to what exists for other maritime channels like Suez or Panama — could generate for Iran between $1 and $5 billion per year, depending on rates applied and traffic volumes. These are aggregate estimates from maritime analysts whose precise sourcing is not established — but they illustrate the potential economic stakes.

For Gulf oil-exporting countries, the implication of such fees would be direct: an increase in export costs that would be passed on either to oil company profits, to final consumer oil prices, or both. For importing countries — Europe, Asia — the cost would translate into a slight increase in the per-barrel price built into futures contracts. These effects would not be catastrophic at moderate levels, but they would constitute a direct economic advantage for Iran and a permanent revenue drain for Gulf exporters — who, it should be recalled, are the potential funders of the $300 billion fund to rebuild Iran.

The previous experience of the Suez Canal

The question of fees in the Strait of Hormuz inevitably evokes the Suez crisis of 1956, when Nasser's Egypt had nationalized the Suez Canal — until then the property of a Franco-British company — and claimed the right to collect transit fees. The crisis led to a Franco-British military intervention, a diplomatic humiliation for both countries, and ultimately to international recognition of Egypt's right to collect canal fees. The comparison is not perfect — the Strait of Hormuz is geologically and legally different from the Suez Canal — but it illustrates how a dispute over fees in a maritime corridor can lead to a major diplomatic crisis.

The fundamental difference with Suez is that the Suez Canal is an artificial canal built and administered by Egypt, which gives that country clearer ownership and administrative rights. The Strait of Hormuz is a natural corridor whose shores belong to Iran and Oman, but which is considered by international law as an international transit waterway. This legal distinction is essential — and it is precisely what is at the heart of the Rubio-Tehran dispute of June 23-24.

Iran looks at Suez and thinks: "Nasser succeeded." The West looks at Suez and thinks: "We didn't want to repeat the same mistake." These two parallel readings of history fuel the current dispute. And if Iran manages to impose even a limited form of fees "for services" in the strait, it will be perceived in Tehran as a victory comparable to Nasser's over Suez. With all the incentives that would create for other regional actors to attempt similar approaches.

What the United States defends and why

Freedom of navigation — the right for military and commercial vessels to transit freely in international waters — is one of the most consistent foreign policy priorities of the United States, across all presidents and parties. It underpins American military power projection (aircraft carriers must be able to navigate everywhere), American economic interests (American exports and imports depend on free maritime routes), and the liberal international order that Washington helped build after 1945.

Rubio's position on Hormuz fits within this long-standing doctrine. "No country is allowed to levy tolls or fees on an international waterway" is not only a position on Iran in 2026 — it is a statement of principle that applies to all straits in the world. Any exception granted to Iran would create a precedent that other countries could invoke: Turkey over the Bosphorus, China over the South China Sea, others over other strategic straits. The defense of freedom of navigation is, in this perspective, far broader than just the Iranian case.

Freedom of Navigation Operations and their limits

For decades, the U.S. Navy has conducted "Freedom of Navigation Operations" (FONOPs) — deliberate transits through areas claimed by other states to contest these claims and maintain the principle of freedom of navigation. These operations, commonly practiced in the South China Sea against Chinese claims, could theoretically be used in the Strait of Hormuz if Iran attempted to impose authorization procedures or fees for American military vessels.

But a FONOP in the Strait of Hormuz in the middle of negotiations with Iran — during the 60 days of the MoU — would carry a considerable diplomatic cost. It could be perceived as a provocation, reignite tensions, and jeopardize a fragile peace process. This dilemma between defending principles and diplomatic pragmatism is one that Rubio must navigate: he can draw a verbal red line on tolls, but he cannot necessarily enforce it militarily without risking derailing the agreement he is currently negotiating.

There is a limit to what verbal red lines can do. Rubio can say "never fees at Hormuz" as loud and as often as he wants. But if the final agreement does not contain a binding mechanism to prevent such fees — with automatic consequences in the event of imposition, not merely political statements — then the red line is cardboard. And Iran, which has spent 40 years testing the limits of American red lines, knows this better than anyone.

The Persian Gulf Strait Authority

After the signing of the MoU, Iran announced the creation of a Persian Gulf Strait Authority — a new government entity charged with supervising traffic in the Strait of Hormuz. This authority, mentioned by NBC News of June 19, had published new directives: ships wishing to transit were required to submit their request 48 hours in advance. The authority specified that "for 60 days, no fees will be charged to applicants" — a formulation that clearly established that fees were an option after the 60 days.

The creation of this authority is a significant institutional development. By establishing a bureaucracy dedicated to managing strait transit, Iran is creating an administrative infrastructure that prefigures a long-term control regime. Bureaucracies, once created, tend to persist and seek to expand their mandate. The Persian Gulf Strait Authority is, in this reading, not merely a temporary operational mechanism, but a political institution designed to establish the legitimacy of Iranian control over passage in the long term.

The prior authorization requirement and its implications

The 48-hour advance notice rule for ships wishing to transit is, in itself, a limitation on the right of free passage that existed before the war. Before the 2026 conflict, commercial vessels could transit through the strait without a prior authorization request — this was the very nature of the "right of transit passage" provided for by UNCLOS. The introduction of a prior request procedure — even if it is currently free and appears to be systematically granted — constitutes a change of regime.

This change was not publicly challenged by Rubio in his June 23 statement — which focused on fees, not authorization procedures. This nuance is important: if the prior authorization requirement becomes institutionalized and permanent after the 60 days, Iran will have succeeded in establishing procedural control over the strait even without nominal fees. This procedural control — the capacity to delay, refuse, or condition transit — is a form of power over passage that goes beyond simple financial levies.

The Persian Gulf Strait Authority. An authority. A 48-hour delay. Forms to fill out. This is not a tax. It's something more subtle: sovereign bureaucracy. And sovereign bureaucracy, once established, has its own logic of expansion. Today, 48 hours' notice, free. In six months, 72 hours, with application processing fees. In a year, conditional refusals for certain flags. This scenario is not inevitable. But it is possible. And nobody in the diplomatic communiqués is talking about it.

China and Japan facing the strait

Asian countries are among the largest importers of oil and liquefied natural gas transiting through the Strait of Hormuz. China imports approximately 40% of its oil via Hormuz. Japan and South Korea depend massively on Qatari LNG and Saudi oil that transit through this corridor. These three countries therefore have a direct and massive interest in the strait's governance regime after the 60 days. Yet they are not parties to the negotiations between the United States and Iran — their interests are represented indirectly by Washington or the Gulf states, not directly.

This absence of major Asian consumers from the negotiating table is a structural gap in the current process. If Iran imposes fees "for services" after the 60 days, it is Tokyo, Seoul, and Beijing that will partly pay — but they have no say in the negotiations that will determine whether these fees exist or not. This configuration reinforces Iranian leverage: Tehran can threaten to charge fees to countries that cannot directly oppose it, knowing that their dependence creates pressure on Washington to accept a compromise rather than risk a breakdown.

Europe and energy diversification

Europe, which had massively reduced its dependence on Russian gas after 2022, had turned toward Gulf LNG terminals — notably Qatari ones, whose exports transit through Hormuz — as a primary alternative. The blocking of the strait for more than three months had seriously affected European LNG imports, contributing to the rise in energy prices on the continent. The reopening of the strait is therefore a direct relief for European economies.

A permanent fee regime in the strait would represent for Europe a structural increase in the cost of its energy supply — added to the costs of the energy transition and defense rebuilding. This European dimension is not sufficiently present in the American-Iranian debates on Hormuz, but it should be integrated into any discussion on the long-term governance regime of the strait. Europe has an objective interest in supporting Rubio's American position on the absence of fees — and could exert additional diplomatic pressure in this direction if it chooses to actively engage on this file.

Europe depends on this strait since it turned its back on Russian gas. And yet Europe is not at the table of negotiations over its future. Washington negotiates, Tehran negotiates, Oman makes statements — and European capitals watch, hoping the result will protect their energy interests. It's a bit like participating in a poker game where someone else plays your cards for you. It can work. It can also go very wrong. And if it goes wrong, European household heating bills will pay the price.

Scenario 1: solid agreement on freedom of navigation

In the best scenario, the 60-day negotiations produce a clear, legally binding disposition included in a final agreement ratified by a UN Security Council resolution: the Strait of Hormuz is defined as an international transit waterway, the right of transit is guaranteed without fees or prior authorization procedures, and any state seeking to modify this regime must obtain agreement from the entire international community. In this scenario, the Persian Gulf Strait Authority would be dissolved or confined to maritime service functions (navigation assistance, emergency services) without power to control transit.

This scenario is theoretically possible but politically difficult for Iran: it would require Tehran to explicitly renounce a permanent negotiating lever. Iran would need to be convinced that the benefits of this agreement — sanctions relief, reconstruction fund, economic normalization — are worth more than Hormuz's geographic lever. This equation is possible, but it requires sustained and coherent American diplomatic pressure, economically attractive guarantees for Tehran, and regional and international support for the American position.

Scenario 2: perpetuated ambiguity — the dangerous status quo

In a second scenario, the 60-day negotiations produce a final agreement whose Hormuz provision reproduces the ambiguity of the current MoU: vague formulations on "free navigation" and "sovereign rights" that allow each party to interpret the text as it sees fit. Iran maintains its Persian Gulf Strait Authority, continues to demand 48-hour notice, and begins charging fees "for services" that Rubio contests as illegal but cannot prevent without risking the breakdown of the overall agreement.

This scenario — the most likely in a negotiation where both parties want to sign a deal but disagree on fundamental terms — would perpetuate a permanent tension over the strait. Every maritime incident, every attempt to collect fees, every denied authorization procedure would be a potential friction point that could degenerate into crisis. This would be "peace" in the minimum definition of the term — absence of airstrikes — but it would not be a resolution of the structural problem.

Scenario 3: breakdown and return to crisis

In the worst scenario, the Hormuz dispute is part of a set of disagreements — nuclear, inspections, missiles — that accumulate until the negotiations collapse. Iran imposes fees, Washington considers this a violation of the MoU, Trump threatens to "go back to dropping bombs" as he said on June 17, and the escalation spiral restarts. This scenario is unlikely in the short term — both parties have powerful economic and political incentives to maintain the process — but it remains possible if red lines on both sides are crossed without a de-escalation mechanism available.

Preventing this scenario requires precisely what the current MoU does not provide: clear dispute resolution mechanisms, direct lines of communication between the parties (beyond the "deconfliction line" established in Switzerland), and a precise definition of behaviors that would constitute a violation of the agreement capable of triggering predefined consequences. Without these mechanisms, the agreement rests on the continued good will of both parties — an insufficient foundation for lasting peace.

Three scenarios. The solid agreement, the dangerous ambiguity, the breakdown. And I don't know which one will materialize. What I know is that the Hormuz dispute will not be resolved in the first weeks of the 60 days — it will likely be deferred to the final 48 hours before the deadline, as in all major negotiations. And in those 48 hours, under maximum pressure, with publicly established positions that both parties cannot abandon without losing face, the compromises will be painful. If they are possible at all.

The June 20 post and its reach

On June 20, 2026, according to the New York Times of June 22, Trump had posted on social media that tolls in the Strait of Hormuz "would not be allowed — never, not now, not after the 60 days, and this text forbids them." This direct presidential statement, even firmer than Rubio's, meant that the White House already considered the June 17 MoU as implicitly prohibiting fees after the 60 days — a reading that Iran and Oman clearly rejected through their June 24 statement.

The contradiction between the American reading (fees are prohibited by the MoU) and the Iranian-Omani reading (fees after 60 days are open to negotiation) is documented and public. This contradiction was not resolved in the Switzerland talks of June 20-22, where the priority was to establish a general framework and lines of communication. It will therefore be at the center of the next negotiation rounds — and will constitute one of the most difficult tests of both parties' willingness to reach a substantive rather than symbolic agreement.

The coherence of the American message

The coherence of the American message on Hormuz — between Trump on social media, Rubio during his Gulf tour, and the negotiating teams in Switzerland — is an asset for Washington in this negotiation. When all three levels of the American hierarchy say the same thing, the message is difficult to ignore or redefine. Tehran knows that this time, the American red line on tolls is carried by the entire administration — it is not an isolated remark from an undersecretary of state.

What Washington cannot yet measure is the solidity of the Iranian position. Is the Iran-Oman joint statement of June 24 Tehran's final position on this subject, or is it a tactical opening to obtain concessions in other areas in exchange for abandoning the fee demand? The answer to this question will largely determine whether the 60 days produce an agreement or an impasse. And this answer will only be known at the negotiating table — not in press releases.

I often think, in complex negotiations, that the truth of what a party really wants does not appear in its first public statements. It appears in its behaviors when pressure mounts. Does Iran really want fees at Hormuz — to the point of risking the failure of the overall agreement — or is it using this demand as currency to obtain something else? The 60 days that follow will answer this question. And that answer will say a lot about the true nature of Iranian intentions in this negotiation.

Demining: an unwritten but urgent obligation

Beyond economic and diplomatic questions, the presence of mines in the Strait of Hormuz represents a direct humanitarian threat to the civilian sailors navigating there. According to Rubio on June 2, 2026, Iran had mined "large segments" of the strait. If these mines have not all been defused or removed — and no public confirmation exists on this point as of June 24 — every civilian vessel crossing the strait faces a real and documented risk.

The humanitarian and legal responsibility for damage caused by these mines is an open question. If a civilian tanker is damaged or sunk by an Iranian mine in the strait — even after the signing of the MoU —, who is responsible? Iran, which laid the mines? Washington, which accepted a deal that does not explicitly guarantee their removal? The shipping companies that decided to resume transit? This question of responsibility is not theoretical — it could become very concrete at the first maritime incident in the post-MoU strait.

The fate of the 11,000 sailors and the progressive normalization

The International Maritime Organization had launched an operation to free approximately 11,000 sailors stranded in the Persian Gulf since the start of the conflict, according to Iran International of June 23. These sailors, trapped in a war zone for months, represent the most concrete human dimension of this conflict. Their progressive liberation — linked to the reopening of the strait — is one of the most direct human accomplishments of the June 17 MoU.

But their situation also illustrates the vulnerability of maritime workers to geopolitical crises. These 11,000 people did not choose to be taken hostage by an American-Iranian war. They were there to do their job. The absence of explicit mention of their situation in the MoU — and the slowness of their liberation in the days following signing — says something about the priorities governing diplomatic negotiations. Oil production figures and positions on tolls merit discussions in Swiss conference rooms. The 11,000 sailors were waiting aboard ship.

Eleven thousand sailors. This figure comes back to me often when I think about this agreement. Not the $300 billion, not the 60 days, not the red lines on tolls. Eleven thousand maritime workers who waited for months to know whether their lives had value in the diplomatic calculus of two superpowers. And what liberated them was not high-altitude diplomacy — it was that Washington and Tehran finally had more interest in opening the oil than in keeping the strait closed. Pragmatism, not humanism. But I'll take it.

The strategic blind spot

In all his public statements during his Gulf tour on June 23-24, Rubio extensively developed the American position on Hormuz. What he did not publicly mention: Iranian ballistic missiles. The Iranian missile program — which includes missiles capable of reaching Israel, American bases in the region, and potentially Southern Europe — is not mentioned in the June 17 MoU. Gulf allies asked Rubio during his tour to have this aspect included in the negotiations for the final agreement.

The absence of Iranian missiles from the MoU is a political decision — not an accidental omission. American negotiators calculated that trying to include missiles in the text would have made the agreement impossible for Iran to sign. It is a pragmatic concession that Tehran will fiercely defend during the 60 days: Iran considers its missile program an attribute of national sovereignty and a non-negotiable deterrence capability. For Gulf allies and for Israel, this omission is a major strategic gap that makes any agreement insufficient on regional security.

The connection between Hormuz and missiles

There is a direct strategic link between the threat to close the Strait of Hormuz and the Iranian missile program: both are deterrence instruments that Iran uses to maintain its leverage in negotiations with the West. By accepting not to address missiles in the MoU, Washington preserved Tehran's primary regional military pressure instrument intact. If Iran perceives that its missile capability is threatened by future negotiations, it can use the threat of Hormuz tolls — or the reopening of Hormuz — as a counterweight. These two pressure instruments reinforce each other.

This interconnection of files — Hormuz, missiles, nuclear, inspections — means that the 60-day negotiations cannot treat these questions in isolation. Progress on Hormuz may only be acceptable to Iran if compensated by an American retreat on missiles. Progress on nuclear may only be acceptable to Tehran if Hormuz remains under its control. This interdependence of files is the reality of a complex negotiation — and it makes any assessment of a final agreement as difficult for the outside observer as for the negotiators themselves.

Missiles are not in the MoU. The next time Iran fires a test missile — or a warning one — toward the Arabian Sea, it will violate no provision of this agreement. Because there aren't any on missiles. And if this happens during the 60 days of negotiation, Washington will have to choose between protesting (and weakening the talks) and ignoring (and normalizing a persistent threat). That is not an easy choice. It is a gap in the MoU that could prove costly.

The fundamental problem remains intact

The dispute over tolls in the Strait of Hormuz is not a quarrel over 33 kilometers of sea. It is a quarrel over sovereignty, economic influence, and the right to use geography as an instrument of foreign policy. Iran considers the strait an attribute of its regional power — a lever that allowed it to stand up to the world's primary military power for more than three months in 2026. Renouncing this lever without substantial compensation would be, for Tehran, a major strategic concession.

Washington, for its part, cannot accept a fee regime in the strait without opening a breach in the freedom of navigation doctrine that is the foundation of American power projection in the world. If Iran can charge fees at Hormuz, other states will invoke the precedent. Rubio's position is therefore not only an Iranian question — it is a defense of the global architecture of the international maritime order.

Between these two positions — Iranian sovereignty over its waters and international freedom of navigation — there is space for a deal. This space exists because Iran needs oil revenues and sanctions relief more than it needs Hormuz fees, and Washington needs peace more than it needs to win every principle to the maximum. The question is whether negotiators will find this space within 60 days, or whether each party's ambition to keep its maximum positions will make this space inaccessible. That is the central question of the Strait of Hormuz for the coming weeks.

The resolution that must come

The Strait of Hormuz will be one of the most precise tests of the capacity of the United States and Iran to transform an imperfect memorandum of understanding into real peace. If both parties find agreement on a clear governance regime, without fees and with robust enforcement mechanisms, this will constitute a concrete and measurable advance for global economic security. If they fail — if the ambiguity of the current MoU is perpetuated in the final agreement — the world will live with a permanently strained strait, with a geopolitical risk premium built into every barrel of oil and every container of liquefied natural gas.

Rubio said "never any fees." Iran said "we're studying services." Somewhere between these two positions, a formulation must be found that both parties can publicly accept and actually apply. Thirty-three kilometers of sea. Billions of dollars of global trade. And the fundamental question of whether an international waterway can be governed by a single country at the expense of all others. The answer to this question goes far beyond Iran. It will define the rules of the global maritime order for decades to come.

I don't know how the Hormuz story ends. Nobody does on June 24, 2026. What I know is that 33 kilometers of sea paralyzed 20% of the world's energy trade for three months — and they can do so again if the agreement being negotiated now fails. This physical and economic reality is the best argument for both parties to find a solid agreement. Not principles. Not verbal red lines. Raw economic interdependence. Because Iran needs to sell its oil as much as the world needs to receive it. And this strait is the only viable route for both. Sometimes economic interests do what diplomacy cannot.

By Maxime Marquette, columnist

Editorial stance

I am not a journalist but a columnist and analyst. My expertise lies in observing and analysing the geopolitical, economic and strategic dynamics that shape our world. My work is to take political strategies apart, to understand global economic movements, to put the decisions of international actors in context and to offer analytical perspectives on the changes that are redefining our societies.

I do not claim the cold objectivity of traditional journalism, which stops at reporting facts. I claim analytical clarity, rigorous interpretation and a deep understanding of the complex issues that concern us all. My role is to give meaning to the facts, to place them in their historical and strategic context, and to offer a critical reading of events.

Method and sources

This text keeps the basic distinction between verified facts and interpretive analysis. The rule never changes: a factual claim is published only when a verifiable source supports it, and the sources this article actually used are listed under Sources, never here.

Primary source families used by the publication, when the story has them: official statements from governments and international institutions, public statements by political leaders, reports from intergovernmental organisations, dispatches from recognised international news agencies.

Secondary source families: specialised publications, internationally recognised news media, analyses from established research institutions, reports from industry organisations.

When an article cites statistical, economic or geopolitical data, it comes from the institutions that produce it (intergovernmental organisations, central banks, national statistics offices), and the exact institution is named under Sources.

Nature of the analysis

The analyses, interpretations and perspectives in the analytical sections of this article are a critical, contextual synthesis based on the information available, the trends observed and the expert comments cited in the sources consulted.

My role is to interpret these facts, to set them in the context of today's geopolitical and economic dynamics, and to give them a coherent meaning within the larger story of the changes shaping our time. These analyses reflect expertise built through continuous observation of international affairs and an understanding of the strategic mechanisms that drive global actors.

This article describes a documented state of affairs on its publication date, not a prediction: later developments may shift its outlook. No update is promised in advance; when an article is corrected or completed, the change is dated in the text.