The Strait of Hormuz has long stood as a symbol of global energy vulnerability. Stretching barely 39 kilometers at its narrowest point between Iran and Oman, it funnels nearly 20% of the world’s oil supply and over one-third of liquefied natural gas. Any threat of its closure—whether rhetorical or real—inevitably triggers alarms across energy markets. 

Yet beneath the headlines and hyperbole lies a strategic paradox: closing the Strait of Hormuz would not deal a decisive economic blow to the United States. In fact, the economic and geopolitical recalibration underway since the US shale revolution suggests that Washington is less exposed than its adversaries and even some of its allies.

Since the early 2010s, the United States has pursued a pathway toward energy self-reliance. The shale boom transformed the US from a net importer into one of the world’s top oil producers. According to the US Energy Information Administration (EIA), less than 10% of its crude imports now come from the Persian Gulf. 

Moreover, the US has fortified itself with a Strategic Petroleum Reserve (SPR) capable of dampening supply shocks during times of geopolitical crisis. Though partially drawn down during the Ukraine and Gaza crises, the SPR remains a vital economic shield.

This structural shift has dramatically reduced America’s vulnerability to turmoil in the Gulf. In contrast to the 1970s oil shocks, when OPEC’s embargo inflicted widespread inflation and recession, today’s US economy is not tethered to the Strait of Hormuz. 

Energy independence has become a cornerstone of US strategic confidence, especially under the Trump administration’s renewed emphasis on resource nationalism and transactional diplomacy.

But the implications go deeper. For President Donald Trump and his circle of foreign policy strategists, any regional escalation in the Gulf—whether through Iranian retaliation or Israeli provocation—can be leveraged as a controlled escalation. 

When the US and Israel launched airstrikes on Iran’s Fordow, Natanz and Isfahan nuclear sites in June 2025, the anticipation of Iranian closure of the strait was likely already priced in—not only by markets but by decision-makers.

Ironically, such a disruption strengthens Washington’s geopolitical hand. US naval dominance, particularly through the Fifth Fleet stationed in Bahrain, allows it to present itself once more as the guardian of maritime freedom. 

This plays well with allies such as Japan, South Korea and India, who depend heavily on Gulf energy. These countries, in turn, may deepen security alignments with Washington, reinforcing the hub-and-spokes model that underpins US regional primacy.

In the meantime, American LNG producers could benefit. With Gulf LNG supplies constrained and threatened, US exports from terminals in Louisiana and Texas become more competitive, especially in European and East Asian markets. This is not just a security story—it is an economic windfall for key US constituencies in energy-rich states.

Critically, one must distinguish between temporary inflationary pressures and systemic economic collapse. Yes, a Hormuz closure could push up global oil prices, and yes, US consumers may feel the pinch at the pump. 

But the broader US economy—now driven more by services, digital innovation and financial capital than by fossil fuel dependencies—can absorb these shocks. The US Federal Reserve, equipped with monetary tools and real-time data analytics, has repeatedly shown agility in stabilizing inflationary expectations.

If economic pain is not evenly distributed, who then suffers most? The answer lies eastward. China, the world’s largest energy importer, relies on Gulf oil to sustain its industrial output and urban development. 

Despite efforts to diversify sources—from Russia to Central Asia—Beijing remains structurally dependent on maritime routes that it does not militarily control. Iran’s threats to blockade the Strait of Hormuz put China in a strategic bind: its top oil supplier (Iran) is also its potential liability and its maritime vulnerability remains unresolved.

India, too, finds itself exposed. With over 80% of its oil imported, a significant portion of which passes through the Gulf, any prolonged disruption could spike inflation and slow economic growth. 

Japan and South Korea face similar risks. Lacking domestic energy resources and deeply reliant on maritime supply chains, both East Asian powers watch Gulf tensions with unease. Yet unlike the US, they lack either the military reach or economic fallback mechanisms to influence outcomes.

Within Southeast Asia, the impact is nuanced but concerning. Association of Southeast Asian (ASEAN) economies, such as Malaysia, Thailand and the Philippines, rely on Middle Eastern oil to varying degrees. Energy price volatility would exacerbate fiscal pressures, especially in economies already facing post-pandemic debt burdens. 

However, ASEAN has begun to recalibrate its strategic posture. Under the current ASEAN chairmanship of Malaysia and Prime Minister Anwar Ibrahim’s leadership, the bloc has prioritized energy diversification and regional cooperation.

Malaysia and Indonesia are expanding refining capacity and investing in LNG infrastructure. Thailand and Vietnam are integrating solar power into regional grids. Rather than being reactive, ASEAN’s long-term recalibration reflects its quiet adaptability to global disruptions and refusal to be trapped in binary choices between great powers.

This recalibration is not only economic—it is also diplomatic. ASEAN’s recent engagement with both the Gulf Cooperation Council (GCC) and China in trilateral forums reflects a conscious effort to de-escalate tensions through dialogue. The ASEAN-GCC-China Summit and Track 1.5 diplomacy provide a platform for coordinated responses that preserve economic stability without defaulting to militarization.

Still, the US finds itself in an interesting contradiction. While it may not be economically crippled by the closure of Hormuz, its longer-term challenge lies in managing the unpredictability of its own military responses. 

The use of the Massive Ordnance Penetrator (MOP)—designed originally for North Korean bunkers—in Iranian terrain poses strategic risks. The efficacy of such strikes remains uncertain, as the geological structures and subterranean complexity of Iranian nuclear sites are not easily neutralized.

Moreover, Iran’s calibrated retaliation, including its pre-notified missile strike on the Al Udeid Air Base in Qatar, shows that Tehran seeks to balance deterrence with diplomatic signaling. This ambiguity is a calculated move not just toward Washington, but also toward Beijing and wider Asia. Iran does not want to be isolated, even while responding to aggression.

In sum, the closure of the Strait of Hormuz is not the economic Achilles’ heel of the United States that it once was. Thanks to energy independence, strategic reserves, diversified economic sectors and global alliances, Washington can absorb the shock. For others—especially in Asia—the costs are higher and the tools for mitigation fewer. 

Phar Kim Beng, PhD, is professor of ASEAN studies, International Islamic University Malaysia. Luthfy Hamzah is senior research fellow, Strategic Pan Indo Pacific Arena, Kuala Lumpur