The Straits and the competition between USA and China

 

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Hormuz, Malacca, and the Straits of Power

By Victor Ângelo

International Security Advisor. Former UN Under-Secretary-General

Published: 30 April 2026

There are places on maps that, in times of peace, seem like mere details—curiosities. Yet, when rivalry between great powers intensifies, these details become strategic. The Straits of Malacca and Hormuz, Bab el-Mandeb (the Red Sea), and the Indian Ocean routes are now at the heart of global politics: it is through these passages that the economy flows—and it is there that Washington and Beijing test the limits of their competition.

American foreign policy has revealed an emerging pattern: an increasing focus on so-called ‘choke points’—the maritime passages through which energy, commodities, and influence circulate. Control over these points projects both force and deterrence. Consider Hormuz. The figures speak for themselves: the International Energy Agency (IEA) estimates that, by 2025, over 20 million barrels per day will have transited the strait—approximately a quarter of the world’s maritime oil trade.

For the United States, a robust presence in these corridors is not merely about maritime security; it is also a means of protecting its vital interests in the event of a severe crisis.

This is why the ‘Malacca Dilemma’ remains a strategic obsession for Beijing. China depends heavily on maritime routes that traverse this narrow, congested corridor, which is difficult to replace without colossal costs—precisely the type of vulnerability any state seeks to reduce when anticipating a prolonged period of competition.

The Strait of Malacca, though exceedingly long, is only a few kilometres wide at its narrowest point. From an energy perspective, the US Energy Information Administration (EIA) classifies Malacca as a vital choke point: in the first half of 2025, an estimated 23 million barrels of oil per day will have transited the strait. It is this volume—and the immense difficulty of diverting shipping to more expensive alternatives through more treacherous seas south of Indonesia (the Sunda and Lombok waters)—that makes Malacca a national security priority for China and several Asian states.

And it is not merely energy. It is also the container ships, carrying every conceivable type of cargo, and the infrastructure of telecommunications. The Strait of Malacca is a critical corridor for digital connectivity, possessing a high density of subsea cables that link Asia to a significant portion of the globe.

In this context, the agreements and joint exercises between the United States and Indonesia gain a special significance. For Washington, Indonesia is crucial because it sits at the hinge between the Pacific and the Indian Oceans, and its territory defines one side of the strait. For Jakarta, cooperation with the US is useful: it bolsters capabilities, signals autonomy, and helps manage frictions with China—including recurring incidents in border waters—without abandoning its tradition of non-alignment.

The Chinese response to all of this has been simultaneously maritime and continental.

The growth of the Chinese Navy—now the world’s largest by number of vessels—follows a simple logic: if trade is conducted primarily by sea, then national security must also be sea-based. Hence the investment in the naval sector, in the capacity to operate further from its shores, and in port partnerships that, even when presented as commercial, may have military utility in crisis scenarios.

The ‘New Silk Road’ reinforces this strategy: it multiplies connections with the outside world. Projects such as the China-Pakistan Economic Corridor, logistical links through Myanmar, and the pursuit of navigation through the Arctic in coordination with Russia seek to create exits that circumvent Malacca and reduce exposure to the control of rival powers. Furthermore, on the technological level, Chinese dominance in critical segments of certain value chains—for example, in the processing and refining of rare earths, where it remains globally dominant—functions as an instrument of leverage to prevent extreme situations and the risk of shocks.

The result is a rivalry that leaves less and less room for naivety—and which turns the straits into the strongholds of the geopolitical chessboard.

There is, however, a global legal framework worth recalling: the United Nations Convention on the Law of the Sea (UNCLOS) and the principle of freedom of navigation. This framework regulates transit through straits used for international navigation and limits arbitrary interference. Rules do not eliminate rivalry, but they increase the political, economic, and reputational costs when restrictions lack acceptable justification.

Summit diplomacy, however theatrical it may seem, matters. The White House has signalled that Donald Trump is slated to visit Beijing in mid-May to meet with Xi Jinping. The meeting will not change geography, but it may help clarify ‘red lines’ and reduce the risk of misunderstandings in an environment where the temptation to ‘test’ the other to the limit is constant. Trump’s trip serves as a test: not of the end of competition, but of the will to define its boundaries. In an interdependent world, the stability of routes is a common interest—even when the rivalry is structural.

If Washington and Beijing transform the straits—and commercial interdependencies—into instruments of permanent pressure, international relations will enter a far more dangerous phase: that of generalised insecurity. In such a scenario, the concern with deterrence becomes a daily occurrence. A miscalculation will, inevitably, be more likely and certainly catastrophic.

USA and Iran, a very serious conflict: what's next?

A Profoundly Perilous and Complex Confrontation: The USA and Iran

Victor Ângelo

Are we on the precipice of an armed conflict between Iran and the United States? This remains one of the pre-eminent questions of our days. The answer is neither simple nor definitive. Indeed, the risk may be considered imminent. However, the costs for both parties—and for the world at large—would be so catastrophic that it is both necessary and urgent to reach an accommodation.

Mediation ought to be undertaken by regional states or the more influential members of the Organisation of Islamic Cooperation—some closer to the Sunni interpretation of Islam, others to the Shia practice—provided they are acceptable to both Washington and Tehran. Ideally, the responsibility would have been vested in the UN or India. Regrettably, neither the UN Secretary-General nor the Prime Minister of India possesses sufficient credibility in this instance. Narendra Modi squandered his political capital regarding the Middle East the moment he chose to anchor his domestic power in the marginalisation of India’s Muslim citizens. He is an autocrat who plays the ethnic card and resorts to populism to retain his grip on power.

As for António Guterres, he carries no weight in Washington and is perceived in Tehran as an outsider—a Westerner approaching the twilight of his tenure. He is regarded as a Secretary-General for humanitarian causes and little else. For many, he lacks the political stature and the requisite "vigour" for conflict resolution. The fact remains that Guterres has been plagued by misfortune. Enduring two Trump administrations, each more deleterious than the last, is a singular stroke of ill luck.

The reality is that we are witnessing a formidable military escalation in the Persian Gulf, one of the world’s most sensitive regions. This escalation could trigger an open war at any moment. This is a dispute of immense complexity. The nuclear carrier USS Abraham Lincoln is currently in the Persian Gulf, accompanied by its strike group, bristling with hundreds of Tomahawk missiles and supported by elite fighter jets, satellites, and surveillance drones that monitor every movement within Iran and its territorial waters. Furthermore, the US maintains tens of thousands of personnel across five bases in the region. They also conduct constant policing of the Strait of Hormuz—a vital artery for oil supplies, primarily to China, but also to India. Should either the US or Iran open a front in this transit zone, they would impede, or at the very least disrupt, the daily passage of approximately 20% of the world’s trade in oil and liquefied natural gas. The economic fallout of such a confrontation would be dramatic, both for the region and for the economies of China and numerous other nations.

Few stand to benefit from such a crisis. It is, however, difficult to believe that a deployment of American forces of such formidable proportions has merely deterrent objectives, regardless of protestations to the contrary.

On the Iranian side, military capacity is significantly inferior to that of the Americans. Currently, following the setbacks of its allies in Lebanon (Hezbollah), Syria, Yemen, and Gaza, its strategic strength rests primarily on three pillars: its vast and diversified ballistic arsenal, the mass production of drones, and the ability to sever navigation in the Strait of Hormuz and the Bab el-Mandeb—the maritime bottleneck connecting the Red Sea to the Gulf of Aden and, by extension, the Indian Ocean. Bab el-Mandeb is a vital route through which a significant portion of global trade traditionally flows.

In truth, when considering Iran, one must account for a fourth pillar: the religious fanaticism and the ferocious dictatorship that underpin Iranian political power. It was this volatile mixture of fanaticism and disregard for human life that formed the backbone of the barbaric repression against the populace last month, resulting in an incalculable number of victims. The conclusion is simple: by the standards of modern humanism, the Ayatollahs’ regime resides in a world of five centuries ago—the heart of the Dark Ages. It cannot be countenanced in this day and age, however much one respects national sovereignty or the internal politics of a state. This is a message Guterres ought to convey to Xi Jinping, reminding him that the sovereignty of any state begins with respect for the dignity and human rights of its citizens.

Xi Jinping might, indeed, begin by revisiting the principles adopted by Deng Xiaoping following the death of Mao Zedong in 1976. Deng was the architect of "socialism with Chinese characteristics"—the leader who modernised China, liberalised the economy beyond state control, invited foreign investment, and ended the agriculture of famine. Xi Jinping, however, wagers primarily on absolute power, reminiscent of the Maoist era, coupled with unbridled economic capitalism and a personal brand of rivalry and competition against the US. He is above all preoccupied with Chinese supremacy in military, technological, economic, and geopolitical spheres. Consequently, he errs by aligning himself with powers that view geopolitics through an archaic lens—notably Iran and Russia, another staunch ally of the theocratic dictatorship in Tehran. Xi views the future as a zero-sum rivalry between his nation and the United States, proving that he regards global challenges and international solidarity merely as pawns in China’s international geopolitical gambit.

If Iran can only rely on allies of such a kind, the answer to my initial question must be: let there be resolve, extensive diplomacy, and an absolute respect for citizens and for peace.