Written by: Citrini Research

Compiled by: 2030FY

The current situation in the Strait of Hormuz is extremely complex and unpredictable. Therefore, Citrini dispatched one of its top-performing field analysts—we'll call him "Analyst No. 3" to avoid any emotional entanglements—to the Strait of Hormuz to conduct a research mission. Analyst No. 3, fluent in four languages ​​including Arabic, set off with a protective case containing equipment, a box of Cuban cigars, $15,000 in cash, and a roll of Zinnicotin, to carry out the itinerary we had planned in our Manhattan office a week earlier.

We initially thought that this trip would only yield a vague conclusion of "whether the strait is open or closed," and we were well aware that this research might be futile and fruitless. But in fact, we have gained a more detailed and profound understanding of the current situation and the process of the world's transition to multipolarity.

If David Foster Wallace were still alive, he would be reporting from a bar in a small seaside town on the coast of Oman—scribbling notes on a napkin about the unique silence of a hotel with a hundred rooms but only three guests; watching oil tankers drift slowly toward the Strait of Hormuz, never actually entering it. This is our inspiration, if Wallace had also been interested in how to uncover excess returns from investments.

This is a story about one of the most crucial places on Earth today—the 54-mile-long strait between Iran and Oman, where the global economy's operation or stagnation hinges. This strait holds numerous opportunities for high-return investments, including new rules of passage being developed in real time by the Iranian Revolutionary Guard: they decide which vessels are allowed to pass and which are prohibited.

Analyst Number Three, disregarding the warnings of Omani border agents, an unseen premonition, and the stern warnings of two coast guard members armed with assault rifles, resolved to venture into the heart of this most vital waterway on Earth. At the height of the conflict, he boarded a speedboat without GPS; the captain was a stranger he had met three hours earlier at the port entrance, when he pulled out a wad of cash. All of this was for investment research purposes.

The following is the complete story of this research.

Deep into the Strait of Hormuz

Before entering Oman, local officials asked Analyst No. 3 to sign a document. This pre-printed pledge, handed to him on a tea table at a desert checkpoint, promised not to engage in any form of photography, news reporting, or information gathering within the Sultanate of Oman. He signed his name.

The official then opened the analyst's protective case for inspection, but missed the gimbal, microphone kit, and recording sunglasses. The investigation mission officially commenced.

Upon arriving in Oman, Analyst No. 3, relying on his persuasive skills, boarded a dilapidated speedboat lacking a GPS system. Ignoring the Omani officials' advice to turn back, he sailed on the high seas to within 18 miles of the Iranian coast. At that moment, witness drones hovered overhead, and Iranian Revolutionary Guard patrol boats cruised along fixed routes in the distance. He leaped into the Strait of Hormuz, a Cuban cigar still dangling from his lips, and swam freely in the water.

Shortly afterward, he was intercepted and detained by the Coast Guard, and his phone was confiscated. He eventually managed to escape and return home, sharing all his findings with us in an eight-hour briefing.

The following is a firsthand account from Analyst No. 3's on-site investigation in the Strait of Hormuz, narrated from a first-person perspective. To protect the security of the anonymous source, some key figures' names, locations, and event details have been modified. All quotations are compiled from the analyst's memory and translated from the original Arabic text. This is the best we can achieve in terms of information accuracy—because the analyst's mobile phone, and all the notes and photos stored on it, are currently thousands of miles away, and are most likely being verified by the Omani authorities.

I. Research Concept

"What if I went directly to the Strait of Hormuz?"

This question was initially just a joke—like talking to yourself in bed at two in the morning, hardly worthy of serious consideration, and should have been lost to time, like those plans you vowed to carry out before sleep but abandoned upon waking due to real-world responsibilities. But it wasn't two in the morning then, and we weren't in a bedroom.

We're sitting in the Citrine Research office in Midtown Manhattan, watching our phone screens as the worst geopolitical crisis in a decade continues to unfold. The world's most liquid market, like memes, is fluctuating wildly and erratically between Trump's tweets and Associated Press headlines.

It's obvious that nobody—really nobody—analysts, journalists, retired generals pontificating on cable news, and certainly not us, all of us, really knows what's going on. Everyone's relying on the same outdated satellite imagery, anonymous Pentagon sources, and the same AIS shipping data. And I later discovered that this data misses about half of the actual shipping traffic passing through the strait every day.

Ultimately, isn't it our responsibility to bring clarity to the chaotic investment environment? I aspire to do this, and I possess the connections (at least some) to achieve it, which will undoubtedly be a fascinating experience. Thus, the decision to travel to the Strait of Hormuz was made.

In our office apartment in Citrini, New York, we packed a Xiaomi phone (equipped with a 150x zoom Leica camera, a souvenir from our visit to a robotics factory in China), a global maritime distress and safety system beacon, $15,000 in cash, a gimbal, and a microphone set into a Paliken protective case. We sat down and worked backwards to plan our itinerary, focusing on the questions we most wanted answered.

Strait of Hormuz intelligence research trip planning

Day 0: Dubai - Dubai International Financial Centre

Meet with ship brokers, commodity traders, and tanker analysts;

Establish a basic information database and compile publicly available market data;

Communicate with informed sources to assess the expected trends in military operations and the shipping market.

Day 1: Fujairah

Set sail at dawn to observe hundreds of idle oil tankers and billions of dollars worth of stranded cargo;

Visit the area surrounding oil storage facilities in the Fujairah oil industrial zone to identify the types of oil storage facilities that are damaged, full, or short of stock.

Visit the shipping agency district and the Radisson Hotel bar to gather firsthand information.

Day 2: Khorfekhan → Diba → Hasab

Traveling north along the east coast of the UAE, we inspected the Khor Fekam container port, which handles transshipment of cargo.

After entering Musandem province from Diba, we arrived at the Gulf region where the UAE, Oman, and Iran meet.

We arrived in Hasab in the evening and observed the movements of dhows heading towards the Iranian coast from the port.

Day 3: Musandem Sea Area

The entire day was spent on a speedboat survey, passing through Khorsham Fjord and Telegraph Island, before heading to Qomzal—only about 15 kilometers from the Iranian coastline.

We consulted with local fishermen and conducted an on-site inspection of the waterway traffic separation zone.

The number of ships is counted manually and compared with the data from the real-time Automatic Identification System (AIS) on mobile devices.

Day 4: Khornajid → Buhari → Ras Al Khaimah → Dubai

Take a 4WD vehicle to Khornajid, the only road viewpoint overlooking the Persian Gulf shipping lanes, to observe the passage of ships and their activities in the strait, gather information from locals, and cross-verify it with vortex shipping data in real time.

Exchange with fishermen in Buha who have cross-strait communication channels;

The tour included a stop in Ras Al Khaimah to inspect a dhow shipyard, the Gulf Stream trade zone, and the physical infrastructure for Iran's informal trade.

Returning to Dubai.

My itinerary plan is as follows: first, fly to Dubai to communicate with acquaintances and contacts at Sittrini Research Company; then drive to Fujairah to collect on-site footage and intelligence at the oil terminal; next, cross the border into Musandam Province in northern Oman, arrive in Hasab, and try to go out to sea for on-site investigation.

I started calling various travel agencies, trying to book boats to Qomzal—the only Omani village accessible by sea and the closest human settlement to the Iranian coast. In hindsight, this was a security blunder, essentially revealing my itinerary prematurely, but at the time I couldn't think of any other way to secure a boat. Fortunately, from a security standpoint, the identity information I provided to the travel agencies was entirely fabricated.

Every time I make a call, I try different identities: an adventurous tourist, an oil trader looking to inventory passing ships, a real estate investor. ("Hey bro, you think I'm the first real estate investor you've met here? Now's the perfect time to buy! Land prices are ridiculously low, when others are fearful, that's when we're in!") But no matter how I phrase it, the answer is always the same: "No way."

Only one company offering dolphin tours agreed to my request. It turns out that while the Iranian Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps can intercept oil tankers, it cannot deter dolphins. I finally found transportation to the Strait of Hormuz.

We compiled a complete list of contacts and tailored specific questions for them based on their different roles, covering a wide range of people including shipping agents, maritime brokers, ship refueling companies, government officials, military officers, and local business intermediaries. We hope to gather firsthand information from those who have personally experienced and handled matters related to the Strait, and then I will travel to the Omani border to observe the true situation in the Strait firsthand.

After arriving in Dubai, I went straight to Fujairah. Although this route is accessible to everyone, the trip was still quite fruitful. I saw the damage to the oil storage facilities caused by the previous attacks, which was far less severe than I had expected—a local worker told me that the damage at Ruvez was much more serious.

I spoke with several employees who had narrowly escaped death in a drone attack three weeks prior, yet remained at their posts. I also had impromptu conversations with staff from GPS Chemicals and Chemical Petroleum, who confirmed that the port's operational level was currently only about 30% of pre-conflict levels, but basic operations had been restored. Not intending to go to great lengths to infiltrate the terminal, I drove back, arriving just in time for my usual poker game during my trips to Dubai.

Since leaving New York, I haven't slept a wink. In this state, winning money in poker is an impossible task.

II. Poker Game

Every time I come to Dubai, I participate in this regular poker game. The people at the table are all reliable people I can turn to for help when I encounter trouble in the Gulf region.

Everyone at the poker table agreed that the war would last far longer than anyone imagined. One of them predicted the next major escalation would be an attack on Iran's Qeshm Island. Four days later, this prediction came true. They warned me to leave the area before the 6th because "something big was about to happen." The speed of the US military buildup in the region far exceeded media reports; and the number of Iranian drone strikes far exceeded domestic estimates. When I asked them about the targets, the answer was: "Americans, brothers, the targets are Americans and American infrastructure." Looking back, that was a really stupid question.

During the meeting, I dropped a bombshell: "I'm going to Musandam, to the front lines of the Strait of Hormuz."

Everyone initially laughed it off, but then they realized this was the first time at the poker table that I wasn't joking. "Brother, what are you talking about?" one man asked, wanting to join me but saying his father would never allow it.

I asked if I could seek their help if something went wrong on this trip, but they said they weren't sure if it would work. Then, one of them chuckled and told a story he thought was quite similar to my current situation.

“A few years ago, an Emirati fisherman unknowingly wandered into Iranian waters and was captured by the Iranian Revolutionary Guard. Later, they sent him back to the UAE.” He paused, then continued, “He was put in a bucket and cut into seventy-two pieces.”

After hearing this, silence fell over the room. A moment later, another person offered a practical suggestion: "I just bought a pair of Metaverse Ray-Ban smart glasses, do you want one?"

I gladly accepted and put the glasses into the Palicane protective case.

The poker game ended around six in the morning, and I immediately drove to the Omani border. My mind was a complete blank, and only the excitement of about to reach the Strait of Hormuz sustained me.

III. Border Checkpoints

In many ways, Dubai remains the same familiar Dubai—the Cipriani restaurant is still bustling, though not as popular as before the crisis, and Bellini cocktails and meringue desserts are still readily available. But as you drive toward the Omani border, the city's glamorous facade peels away layer by layer: once desolate areas are now populated with American soldiers; once busy roads are now deserted; and finally, you arrive at a dilapidated desert border checkpoint in the middle of nowhere, seemingly built for livestock control and later converted for pedestrian traffic.

I made a mistake; I took a photo at the border—severely sleep-deprived, I brazenly held up my phone like a tourist taking a picture at a scenic spot, forgetting that this was a military-controlled border restricted area. The guard stared at me, his eyes scrutinizing me, as if trying to determine whether I was a threat or simply a fool. "You just took a picture?"

Border checks on the UAE side went smoothly; after getting my passport stamped, I could drive away. But on the Omani side, the situation was completely different. I was led to a place that could only be described as "the worst desert vehicle registration office on earth": four Pakistanis, barefoot and drinking tea, bustled between windows, their efficiency sluggish—clearly people who had worked there for decades and were just looking for a peaceful retirement. I, wearing a flat-brimmed hat and American brand sweatpants, looked completely out of place.

The people ahead of me in line all passed through the check smoothly, got their passports stamped, and left. I handed over my Western passport. The two guards glanced at it, then exchanged a silent exchange—a silent communication that was hardly a good thing for someone being examined. One of them said, "Wait a moment."

Ten minutes later, a man who stood out from the other border crossing staff came downstairs: he wore a traditional Omani hat, a neat robe, and exuded an expensive perfume. He spoke fluent English and was clearly of a higher rank than the staff responsible for stamping documents. "It's a pleasure to meet you," he said, leading me into a back room with tea. He began asking questions at a leisurely pace, as if he already knew most of the answers and was simply watching to see how I would fabricate the part he didn't know.

He asked for my parents' names, hometowns, and my workplace, then said in his still gentle tone, "You should know that photography, news reporting, and intelligence gathering are prohibited here." He also asked about my political stance, my views on the war, and my attitude towards Israel. I lied and said I was a tourist and friendly to everyone. He then pressed me about my religious beliefs.

Are you Shia or Sunni? What type of Muslim are you?

“An unqualified Muslim, I just drank three glasses of alcohol two hours ago.”

He made me sign the affidavit—a formal document prohibiting reporting, photography, and information gathering, with full legal consequences for violations. He watched me read the entire document, a gesture that only made him more suspicious, because at desert border checkpoints, the usual procedure for people facing such legal documents is to sign them directly, while my careful reading clearly indicated that I was someone who would think carefully about what I signed.

He then said he needed to check my luggage and asked if I was carrying any recording equipment. I could make excuses to cover up the gimbal, and I could lie and say the Ray-Ban glasses were just ordinary sunglasses, but if that professional microphone set with a windproof hood was discovered, this research trip would be aborted.

He opened the Palicanne protective case; the cigars were on the top shelf. I handed him one, which he took with a nod, which I interpreted as his sincere gratitude. Then, he simply glanced at a layer of sweatpants before closing the case.

IV. Empty City

Forty minutes after crossing the border, the stunning scenery of the Omani coast unfolded before our eyes: the seawater was as clear as crystal, and the mountains stood majestically, plunging straight into the sea.

My first meeting in Oman gave me a deeper understanding of a counterintuitive yet recurring idea: hot war and commercial diplomacy can coexist. Before this research trip, I always viewed the situation in the Straits with a black-and-white, binary mindset: either open or closed; conflict either escalates or de-escalates. But reality is not so simple.

I managed to meet with an Omani official, a man of quiet composure, much like Master Yoda from Star Wars, who had spent his entire life at the mouth of the Strait of Hormuz. He recounted the Iran-Iraq War, the Gulf War, and the regional crisis of the 1970s.

“You will see this,” he told me, “while the ground conflict in Iran continues, shipping volume in the Strait will increase dramatically.”

“That sounds contradictory,” I replied, and he agreed.

“Yes, we’re just adapting to the situation. It might seem counterintuitive to you, but that’s how things work in the region.” His explanation was simple and straightforward: the ground conflict might continue, or it might stop, but everyone else is trying to live their lives. He likened the scenario to: two of your friends are fighting, while others continue with their lives, going to bars and having fun. This is the reality around the Strait of Hormuz.

After the meeting, I arrived at the hotel I had booked. This place, once a popular tourist destination, now resembled the Overlook Hotel from The Shining—dead and lifeless. Of the hundred rooms, only one or two were occupied. The entire hotel was operating at a loss, merely to maintain the illusion that "the tourism industry is still functioning normally."

When I contacted the dolphin tour company again, they cancelled my reservation. Frankly, given the current security situation, it was a rational choice; but for me, it undoubtedly hampered my research. I wandered around town for hours, talking to everyone—hotel staff, fishermen's families, and anyone who might know someone with a boat—but was repeatedly turned away. I had $12,000 in cash in my pocket, but still couldn't find a boat heading to the strait.

I was the only Westerner in the entire Musandam province, dressed in American clothes, with cash in my pockets, wearing wired headphones, and communicating by phone with the Sittrini Research Company. Passing cars would slow down and stare at me, children would point and whisper about me, and the whole town felt like it was dealing with a perplexing alien visit, and I failed to blend in discreetly at all.

Finally, I arrived at a small canal next to the heavily guarded main port, its banks lined with speedboats. There, I encountered a group of Iranian smugglers who told me their livelihood consisted of transporting contraband such as electronics, cigarettes, and alcohol to Iran daily. I asked them if they were ever arrested, and they said occasionally, citing the example of a friend of theirs who had died just the previous week.

These smugglers support Iran's Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps and are outspoken about their demands: they want the Strait of Hormuz to remain open and under Iranian control; what they want is business and to make money. When I asked if the conflict had slowed down their shipping frequency, they laughed.

They traverse the strait daily, and illicit transport has never diminished—upon closer examination, this in itself is a market signal. Like oil tankers departing from Hargh Island, if a ship is allied with the Iranian Revolutionary Guard, it can sail without fear. This phenomenon indicates that Iran has the capability to precisely select its targets.

Among the smugglers, there was only one Omani. I approached him and spoke to him in Arabic; his name was Hamid. After I pulled out a wad of cash, he said he would arrange a speedboat for me the following morning.

5. "Fuck the police!"

Around nine o'clock that night, I drifted off to sleep, only to be awakened by the most awful telephone ring I had ever heard—a low, monotonous ring, like the sound of an electrocardiogram stopping. The receptionist told me that two officers from the Criminal Investigation Bureau were downstairs and wanted to question me. In the Gulf region, the Criminal Investigation Bureau is comparable to the CIA, but far more ruthless.

I locked my iPhone in the room safe and grabbed my spare phone. They'd obviously seen the tweet from Citrini Research about Analyst #3—thanks, James.

I went downstairs in my pajamas and hotel slippers. As an English speaker who speaks Arabic, I knew a basic security rule: if the situation got complicated, speak only English, because Arabic opens many doors you don't want to open—you might be labeled a spy, a sympathizer, or something else that's hard to shake off once you're labeled. So, I went downstairs and only spoke English: "Hello, everyone, I only speak English." The hotel receptionist, who had been chatting with me in Arabic all day, turned to the criminal investigation staff and said, "This guy speaks Arabic very fluently."

They told me to come with them, and when I asked if I could change out of my pajamas first, the reply was: "Get in the car."

It was pitch black outside, and the same was true inside the Honda Accord. Two agents sat in the front, and a tall man, soon to be my seatmate, sat in the back. We drove for twenty minutes in Hasab, a small town nestled among mountains, without a single streetlamp, so dark that the road was barely visible. The three men in the car remained completely silent the entire time. The only sound was their conversation with their superiors: "Have you picked him up?" "How much further?"

I broke the silence and asked if something was wrong. The person in the front row turned to the agent who had brought me to the car and said, "Answer him." The agent only said, "No problem." The car fell silent again. After arriving at the police station, they reported to their superiors, "He has been detained."

They thoroughly searched me, repeatedly entering and leaving the room, leaving me alone to wait anxiously. "We simply cannot believe you're here as a tourist," they said, implying I worked for another country's government. They even tested me with an Iraqi passport that I didn't actually possess, recorded my written statements, and pressed me about who I had met in Dubai.

When I mentioned the surname of someone I knew, the atmosphere in the room subtly shifted; clearly, the name held special significance for them. I had them call this person to confirm that I posed no threat. Afterward, I was left alone in a waterless room for several hours, during which time I had ample time to reflect on the series of decisions that had led me to this predicament.

As I left the police station, they clearly assumed I was just a fool, not a spy, yet they issued me a fatal warning: "We know about your sea voyage plans. Cancel it; you're not leaving." They took me back to the hotel, saying as they left, "We hope to welcome you back as a tourist during a less sensitive time." These words, seemingly sincere, were chilling.

I sent a message to Citrini Research via encrypted signaling software, informing them that the research trip was canceled. I quickly received a reply, delivered from a safe distance, attempting to express support: "Dude, it's okay. This just means this trip shouldn't have happened in the first place. It was safer for you not to go to the Strait; the ship data and interview records are enough."

I stared at the message for a long time: the intelligence services had explicitly forbidden me from going to sea, and Hamid's contact information had been exposed. The rational choice—the choice I would advise anyone to make—was to go to bed, drive back to Dubai the next morning, and be someone who had tried, failed, and could accept the outcome.

But I still messaged Hamid, telling him everything that had happened: Criminal Investigation Department officers had come to my door, taken down his number, and searched my belongings. Then I wrote, "What if we insist on going?"

Hamid replied in Arabic: "Fuck the police."

VI. Across the Strait

The next morning, the "speedboat" Hamid had mentioned turned out to be a dilapidated 40-year-old boat with an engine displacement of only a few hundred milliliters and no GPS system—it navigated entirely by feel, relying on his lifelong familiarity with the area and a broken radio half-tied to the hull.

As we set off, two Iranian smugglers loading cargo at the port sped past us in their boat, heading towards Iran. Minutes later, two coast guard vessels suddenly appeared and intercepted them. While all law enforcement in the area were busy dealing with the contraband on those two boats, we quietly sailed along the coastline, successfully evading inspection. Hamid looked at me and said, "We're safe."

Qomzal is a remote fishing village where the local dialect is a blend of Portuguese, Persian, and Arabic. Half the families in the village have relatives in Bandar Abbas, Iran, and people travel to and from Iran as freely as they would within Oman. I sat on the ground, eating bread with the local fishermen, who told me many things that no tracking system or satellite could capture.

Every day, four or five oil tankers turn off their Automatic Identification Systems (AIS) and quietly pass through the strait. Fishermen say the actual volume of shipping is far higher than the data shows, and the number of ships passing through the Qeshm Strait has been steadily increasing in the past few days.

They also told me that civilian boats and fishing vessels were attacked by drones—these non-military targets were destroyed but never reported in any media. A fisherman who has traveled to and from this area twenty times since the conflict began described it this way: You see a boat, hear a loud bang, and then it disappears. In this area, it's just an ordinary day.

An old fisherman sitting on the beach told me two seemingly contradictory facts: far more ships pass through the strait than people imagine; and far more attacks occur than people know. I asked why these two conclusions could hold true simultaneously, but they had no theoretical framework to explain them, and simply shrugged.

That black-and-white, binary thinking—that the Strait is either open or closed, that conflict either escalates or de-escalates—is completely incompatible with the reality off the coast of Kumzhar: there are more ships, and more attacks. This phenomenon is gradually becoming the dominant theme: the US threatens a full-scale war, while its allies are negotiating with Iran; drone attacks continue to increase, and shipping volume in the Strait is rising in tandem. It seems that nothing is set in stone.

The fishermen of Qomzal, the Omani officials I met the following day, and the Iranians I encountered in the Strait all conveyed the same message: Iran's requirement for ships to obtain approval before transiting the Strait is more of a propaganda tactic. Its aim is to portray the United States as an unreliable ally, while positioning itself as the rational party striving to maintain order in a deteriorating situation.

Iran's message is: we have the capability to peacefully operate the Strait of Hormuz and ensure the safety of shipping under our control; and the proof of our sovereignty is that trade in the Strait will continue regardless of any actions taken by the United States. Follow our procedures and pass our inspections, and your vessel will pass safely.

This reminded me of my experience in Ras Al Khaimah, where I met a Greek-Australian captain in a local hotel bar. He had gray hair and a bald head, and looked remarkably like Mike Ermantraut from Breaking Bad.

We left the bar and walked to the harbor, where we smoked as he explained the workings of the "Iranian tollbooth." His ship was queuing, waiting for Iranian transit approval; they were submitting the necessary documents. He described how numerous ships waited in line, repeatedly communicating with Iranian intermediaries, and could not pass without approval.

This is the essential difference between a "blockade" and a "toll road": the market has been pricing based on the assumption that "the strait is blocked," while the reality on the sea is becoming increasingly similar to that of a "toll road."

He corrected many of my misconceptions, which, in retrospect, were nothing more than "nonsense conjured up while staring at a monitor screen." He told me that nobody really believed the Strait of Hormuz was riddled with mines. His reaction to the idea that "insurance is the only reason ships don't want to pass through" was almost incredulous: "The core reason ships don't want to pass through is that they don't want to sink to the bottom of the sea. Insurance? Do you think we want to die?"

“Listen, there will always be people who take the risk. Greece’s Dynacom Shipping and South Korea’s Changjin Shipping have the guts. But think about it from the shipowner’s perspective. If you send a ship through the strait and it gets hit, what will happen? With shipping charter rates at record highs, you will lose a ship. Even if the insurance company compensates you, you won’t be able to buy a replacement the next day because the existing fleet will already be fully booked. Meanwhile, those shipowners who moor their ships in the bay as floating storage are making a fortune without doing anything. So, ships’ reluctance to transit is not only a matter of life and death, but also a matter of not doing anything stupid.”

Standing at the harbor, gazing at the sea, and listening to his explanation, I suddenly realized how incredibly foolish many of the opinions circulating on desks and in investment banking chat channels were. The people on this land are living, breathing individuals with real motivations and emotions, and this logic applies equally to most relevant decision-makers.

Omanis are among the most neutral observers in the Gulf region and Iran's longest-standing neighbors, generally agreeing that "Iran acts rationally and predictably." However, the residents of Qomzal, whose families reside in Bandar Abbas and whose local armed forces are under the control of the Iranian Revolutionary Guard, hold a more extreme view, seeing the war as an opportunity to humiliate the United States, this "empire."

We left Kumzhar and sailed into the open sea.

As the Iranian coastline came into clear view, I lit a cigar. Twelve miles away, Qeshm Island was faintly visible—Iran's first island, and I was unaware that it would be attacked the following day, a possibility only warned of by friends at a poker game. The day after the attack, an American F-15 fighter jet, followed by an A-10 attack aircraft, was shot down over the island.

Then I looked up and the war was presented before me with a realism that satellite imagery and Automatic Identification System (AIS) data could not convey.

The Witness drone was clearly visible to the naked eye: its propellers spun rapidly as it swept low overhead, its silhouette highly recognizable. I raised my phone to take a picture, but Hamid—the one who yelled "Fuck the cops!"—shouted at me, telling me not to take a picture. Meanwhile, American drones flew alone in higher altitudes.

My phone, using an Omani SIM card, received a signal from an oil tanker that had its Automatic Identification System (AIS) turned off. These vessels, which are untraceable on any tracking platform and are known as "ghosts of the sea" by the fishermen of Qomzal, were now being witnessed by me.

Then I saw a Greek Dynacom shipping tanker sailing straight through the center of the strait—unlike the other ships that huddled close to the coast or crawled slowly, it crossed the strait at full speed, as if in peacetime. It was the only ship doing this; all the other ships were carefully avoiding risks and trying to keep a low profile, while this ship was completely unconcerned.

Clearly, it has reached some kind of agreement with Iran, precisely the “customized passage arrangement” described by Qomzar fishermen and Omani officials. If one needs a visual to confirm the claim that “the Strait of Hormuz is reopening under Iranian control,” it would be this: a Greek oil tanker speeding through the center of the strait while drones hover overhead and other ships linger at the strait's edge.

We also observed that vessels suspected to be Chinese-flagged were passing through the Qeshm-Lalak Strait, and confirmed that vessels flying the flags of India, Malaysia, Japan (LNG carriers), Greece, France (container ships), Oman, and Turkey were also passing through the strait.

According to residents of communities along the Strait, in the two weeks prior to our arrival, approximately two to four ships passed through the Qeshm-Lalak Strait daily; however, our on-site count on April 2nd showed 15 ships transiting the Strait of Hormuz. Although our statistical methods were not professional-level—simply finding a good spot at a hotel bar, observing with a domestically produced mobile phone at maximum zoom, and supplementing with notes taken on a laptop at sea—these data are nonetheless significant.

Sources familiar with the matter said that shipping volume remained at this level on April 4, with 15 to 18 ships passing through the strait. This means that the shipping volume in two days reached the total volume of the previous week.

All of this confirms what the Australian captain said: Iran's drones only attack oil tankers that refuse to comply with its navigation rules.

But I remained vigilant at sea. Fishermen in Hamid and Kumzhar had told me that some fishing boats were inexplicably destroyed without warning or explanation, and some attacks were likely accidental. These drones didn't seem to be able to accurately distinguish between "illegal oil tankers" and "forty-year-old dilapidated boats."

So I thought to myself, since I'm already here, I might as well go all out. I jumped into the sea, a cigar dangling from my mouth, with the Witness drone hovering overhead. Hamid used my domestically made spare drone to capture this moment.

I jumped back onto the boat, and then several smuggling vessels sped past us, about eight or more. On board were Iranian youths in their early twenties, smiling broadly, waving at us, and tossing us cigarettes. I returned the gesture with a peace sign.

Suddenly, one of the smuggling boats turned around and headed towards us at full speed from the Iranian direction. In those five seconds, I was certain that my life was about to end, and the only thought in my mind was of the Emirati fisherman being stuffed into a barrel and cut into seventy-two pieces.

It turned out that it wasn't a ship of the Iranian Revolutionary Guard, but just another smuggling vessel. He slowed down beside our boat, getting close enough for me to see his face clearly. He was smoking a cigarette, and I was smoking a cigar. He offered me the cigarette, and I gave him the cigar in return.

In the heart of one of the most controversial waters on Earth, we looked at each other, nodded, and smiled through the gap between our two ships, without uttering a single word.

I could tell this story to my grandchildren for the rest of my life.

We've decided it's time to head back.

VII. Port Prison

On the way back, I was still immersed in the most exhilarating emotions of my life, and my cell phone signal began to recover intermittently. Just then, a coast guard vessel appeared and intercepted us, armed to the teeth.

When they yelled at Hamid, I immediately shouted in English, "I'm a tourist!" At the same time, I frantically transferred files from my phone to another device and deleted all the photos—because if they found even one photo of the drone, I would be in big trouble, the kind of trouble that even my poker friends couldn't get rid of.

Law enforcement officers took us to a facility for dealing with smugglers—a port jail, not a police station or border post, a place specifically for those whose lives are "not valued by the system." They confiscated my domestically produced mobile phone, claiming they needed to conduct a thorough inspection, and then put Hamid and me into separate rooms.

Hamid's boat didn't have a GPS system, only a handheld radio that had been simply modified and fixed to the hull. When the Coast Guard asked if we were carrying navigation equipment, and we answered "no," the officer gave his assessment, his tone weary and blunt. Clearly, he had seen too many foolish decisions, and our actions were among the worst in his mind.

After some time—apparently a friend with high-level connections made the call for me, the details of which I may never know—they released me. They called me an idiot, confiscated my phone, and warned that if any evidence of a crime was found, they would prosecute me.

I never heard from them again. That was the lowest point of this research trip, and the closest I ever came to life-altering consequences. But I didn't care; even imprisonment was acceptable.

I was overwhelmed with excitement: I had actually set foot on the Strait of Hormuz, accomplished what everyone thought was impossible, witnessed everything firsthand, and gathered firsthand information that no one else knew about—this excitement completely robbed me of any fear. I returned to the deserted hotel bar and drank eleven bottles of beer.

8. Evacuation

For the remainder of my time in Oman, I was constantly under surveillance: three people followed me like shadows, and wherever I went, I saw those familiar faces; a car followed me without any attempt at concealment, extremely blatant. The hotel staff were also adamant in their attitude, determined to get me to check out, which was understandable.

I spent a thousand dollars hiring a black SUV to take me around for the last few hours—I regretted not spending that much from the start, because at that price, people are willing to tell you everything and take you anywhere. I ate fried chicken at a place called "Hormuz Fried Chicken," and it was absolutely delicious.

At the border checkpoint, the first thing the guard said to me was, "He's here."

They thoroughly searched my bag. One of them picked up the Ray-Ban smart glasses and asked, "What's this?" "Sunglasses," I replied, and he put the glasses down. I had the microphone kit hidden under my pants at the back of the bag. He rummaged through my clothes but didn't say a word about the other items.

“It seems he wasn’t the one they were looking for,” one of the guards said.

What we saw and heard and its significance

This concludes the full story of our investigation in the Strait of Hormuz. The following section presents our analytical conclusions. After Analyst #3 returned, we spent eight hours giving a comprehensive report, cross-validating his observations with information gathered from our own channels, publicly available data, and conversations with knowledgeable individuals in the region.

The preceding text is narrated in the first person by Analyst #3 because this is the most authentic way to present the content of the field research; while the analysis below represents the views of Citrini Research.

The most important takeaway from this research, and also our advice to readers, is to abandon prejudice and binary thinking. The current situation in the Strait of Hormuz is far more complex than imagined.

Before setting off, we assumed that the conflict would continue to escalate and that the Strait of Hormuz would remain closed. This research changed our assessment of a "strait closure," but not our view of "conflict escalation"—a view that we would have considered logically contradictory before carrying out this mission.

We also have a more detailed understanding of the future trajectory of the situation: our baseline forecast is no longer a simple "open" or "closed" scenario, but a more complex one—while the conflict continues, shipping volume in the strait will continue to rise. We believe this is an important signal of the world's transition to multipolarity: although the United States is in a fierce conflict with Iran, its allies are actively negotiating with Iran.

Key points

1. Shipping volume in the strait will continue to increase: Regardless of how the situation develops, we believe that shipping volume in the strait will gradually rise. The fact that Greek Dynacom tankers can pass directly through the center of the strait indicates that even if there are mines in the strait, they are not deployed indiscriminately to block all ships.

2. Diplomatic "Tollbooth": Surprisingly, the passage through the Strait of Hormuz is actually quite orderly. Iran has established checkpoints in the Strait of Hormuz, guiding all approved vessels to the channel between Qeshm Island and Larak Island, and charging them "passage fees."

3. The paradox of escalation: We have reliable information confirming that the U.S. military is preparing for more ground operations, but we believe that even if ground operations commence, shipping volumes in the Strait may continue to increase.

4. A restructuring of the global order, not a battle of wits: This conflict is not a simple "two-sided confrontation," but a multi-party game. The ultimate winner will not be determined solely by military victory, but by the restructuring of the world's multipolar order.

What is the overall atmosphere like there? Amidst immense uncertainty and global attention, human resilience is on display. Wars have broken out on this land many times, and may break out again in the future; the United States continues to focus on its oil resources; neighboring countries are at war, and the risks are real, but life goes on. All of this will eventually pass.

Core Argument: Parallel Wars and Diplomacy

The most counterintuitive finding of this research is that hot war and commercial diplomacy are proceeding simultaneously: the United States continues its military actions, while other countries around the world are adapting to the situation and negotiating with Iran regarding passage through the Straits of Hormuz. Even US allies, including France, Greece, and Japan, are seeking their own solutions.

In the past, it was hard to imagine such a situation: Japan, the EU, and other US allies negotiating with Iran, a country with which the US has a direct conflict, to ensure the safety of passage through the Strait of Hormuz; while the US was preparing for further military conflict. But now, this has become the norm in the world.

These countries must deal with their own problems, because the United States will not do it for them. This is precisely the message Trump conveyed in his public speeches: countries that rely on the Strait of Hormuz should take responsibility for the security of that waterway themselves.

This leads us to believe that it is highly likely the conflict will escalate further in the coming week or so, while shipping volume across the strait will increase accordingly. The opening or closing of the strait is not entirely determined by the escalation or de-escalation of the conflict.

The air raid on Qeshm Island port is the clearest example of this view: the air raid caused a temporary slowdown in shipping through the strait, and ships were basically at a standstill during the bombing, but the waterway was reopened to traffic on the same day.

These military strikes have not affected Iran's long-term plans. Even if Qeshm Island is bombed to pieces, shipping in the straits will only be temporarily slowed down; the fundamental trend will not change.

Two days after Analyst No. 3 went to sea, a US F-15 fighter jet and an A-10 attack aircraft were shot down over Qeshm Island. The A-10 attack aircraft crashed into the Persian Gulf, but even so, shipping in the strait continued as usual that day.

On April 2, at least 15 ships passed through the strait; the number increased further the following day, albeit slightly, but the trend was clear. Residents of communities along the strait said that about two weeks before our arrival, only 2 to 5 ships passed through the Qeshm-Lalak channel each day.

Although this figure is far from the more than 100 ships passing through each day before the conflict, we expect this to be the future trend: as the process is chaotic and the conflict continues, the shipping volume in the strait will gradually recover.

However, very few very large crude carriers (VLCCs) currently pass through the strait; in fact, vessels larger than Aframax tankers are rarely seen. If only LPG carriers and mid-size tankers are allowed to pass in the future, the situation will not change significantly, and the global economy will still face enormous risks.

The quickest way to avoid this situation is for the United States to allow Iran to temporarily control the Strait of Hormuz.

It has been confirmed that the vessels passing through the strait originated from countries including India, Malaysia, Japan, Greece, France, Oman, Turkey, and China. Among them, Chinese-flagged vessels were found to have their Automatic Identification System (AIS) turned off while navigating the Larak-Qeshm shipping lane.

We also witnessed a new phenomenon: for the first time, ships completely deviated from the Qeshm-Lalak route – very large crude carriers and empty LNG carriers sailed close to the coast of Oman, bypassing Iranian checkpoints and transiting independently.

The Greek company Dynacom Shipping's tanker was the only vessel we saw to pass directly through the center of the strait, and we still don't know how they managed to do it. The company's head, George Prokopiu, has a history of clandestine voyages.

This phenomenon at least confirms that the Strait of Hormuz is not currently riddled with "mine traps that block all ships from passing," as some have speculated, and it aligns with the view that "Iran is pushing for the strait to return to normal traffic." As for the existence of selectively activated deep-sea mines, we cannot provide a definitive answer.

Iranian smugglers near Larak Island, who have spent their lives transporting contraband across the strait, say they have recently seen a significant increase in the number of ships passing through. They believe this is no coincidence; all ships transiting the strait have communicated with the Iranian Revolutionary Guard and obtained passage permission.

They learned from family members with military backgrounds that shipping across the strait would soon return to normal.

Will the US ground operations halt this trend? The answer is possibly yes. However, the downing of a fighter jet over the shipping lane did not affect shipping; the airstrike on Qeshm Island port also did not bring shipping to a standstill.

To completely halt shipping across the Strait, the U.S. military would need to launch a massive military operation specifically targeting shipping across the Strait, an action that would not be in the core interests of either side.

The operating mechanism of Iran's "tollbooths"

Surprisingly, the navigation order in the Strait of Hormuz is actually quite well-regulated. Iran has established a functional checkpoint in the Strait of Hormuz, directing all approved vessels to the channel between Qeshm Island and Larak Island (the exceptions are a few vessels that sail close to the Omani coast and the Greek oil tanker we saw passing through the center of the strait), and charging "passage fees" to these vessels. Since mid-March, no vessels have used the traditional shipping lanes.

Its operating mechanism is as follows:

The ship's owner or its country first contacts an intermediary broker in Iran, submitting information such as the ship's ownership structure, flag, cargo type, crew composition, and destination; then pays a "toll," which can be in cash, cryptocurrency, or, more commonly, the underrated diplomatic solution in the media—such as unfreezing Iranian assets in foreign banks to circumvent sanctions.

Iran monitors traffic rules using drones and satellite imagery, with a station on Larak Island responsible for approving vessel passage. This monitoring is selective. Iran conducts rigorous inspections of vessels to determine if they have any secret alliances with the United States, including examining ownership structures, shareholder composition, and communicating with crew members.

This means that the idea that "once a country obtains passage approval, other countries can simply fly that country's flag to pass" is unrealistic. Iran will do everything in its power to ensure that all countries genuinely intend to reach an agreement with Iran and to minimize any attempts to exploit loopholes.

Once approved, vessels will receive some form of passage confirmation. We understand that Iran uses a similar password or code-based confirmation system, which is suitable for covert passage with the Automatic Identification System (AIS) disabled, as well as normal passage with the AIS enabled.

Currently, almost all vessels are navigating within Iranian territorial waters, rather than the traditional Omani territorial waters. Approved vessels receive a confirmation code and pass under Iranian escort; unapproved vessels are forced to remain in place.

However, it is crucial to understand that simply having ships sail out of the strait is insufficient to have a positive impact on the global economy; these ships must also return to reload. Only when ships listed by Iran as "friendly or neutral" can travel to and from the strait to load cargo, ensuring the smooth flow of bulk commodity transport, can a global energy crisis be truly averted.

Misconceptions about "toll fees"

Western media widely believe that Iran pays "tolls" in RMB or cryptocurrency, but this claim is only partially true. Analyst #3 learned from multiple local sources that diplomatic channels are the primary way for ships from countries other than China to obtain passage rights. This method effectively circumvents the risks of sanctions, yet it has been severely underestimated by the media.

Most payments are settled through Kunlun Bank. While RMB payments do exist, they account for a very small percentage and are more of a formality. Chinese-flagged vessels, on the other hand, can most likely pass without paying any fees.

Fearing violations of sanctions imposed by the U.S. Office of Foreign Assets Control, other countries have been forced to explore innovative payment methods, not necessarily relying on offshore yuan. For example, India secured passage through a diplomatic agreement, and France appears to have followed suit, consistent with Macron's stance against the U.S. at the UN Security Council.

Is it an insurance issue, or a survival issue?

It is widely believed that the only reason ships are unwilling to pass through the Strait of Hormuz is due to insurance concerns. However, this is not the case: the primary concern for ships is being attacked by drones and sinking to the bottom of the sea; secondly, they may face penalties for violating sanctions regulations of the U.S. Office of Foreign Assets Control after paying "transit fees" to Iran.

This is why there is currently a viable solution: Trump demands that Iran open the Strait of Hormuz, Iran and Oman cooperate to set up a "tollbooth," and ships, trusting the security guarantees of the Iranian Revolutionary Guard, are willing to pass through the Strait.

If the United States were to demand that Iran fully open the Strait of Hormuz and abolish the toll fees, while simultaneously launching military action to prevent Iran from collecting these fees, shipping across the Strait would come to a complete standstill. If this military action were to last more than three to four weeks, the global economy would face catastrophic consequences.

Currently, global commercial oil inventories are experiencing a net daily loss of approximately 10.6 million barrels, and the Habsan-Fujairah pipeline has already been forced to shut down twice. Even considering pipeline rerouting, remaining shipping capacity in the Strait of Hormuz, the release of strategic petroleum reserves, imports of sanctioned oil, and the increase in Middle Eastern oil inventories, if only 15 ships pass through the strait daily by the end of April, the global economic situation will be precarious. All stakeholders are well aware of this.

We believe that the most secure situation at present is that, compared to US escorts, passage approval from the Iranian Revolutionary Guard provides greater security. None of the vessels that received passage approval from the Iranian Revolutionary Guard have been attacked.

Whether the United States will allow Iran to collect "transit fees" in the Strait indefinitely is another matter. However, we believe that during the transition period, the United States is unlikely to take direct action to prohibit this behavior by Iran.

As long as this "toll-based passage" model can maintain a certain volume of shipping traffic across the strait, it will buy enough time for all parties to reach a "two-way passage" solution before an economic disaster occurs.

Iran's Intentions and Gambles

All of the analyst's communications in the region point to one core conclusion: Iran does not want to close the Strait of Hormuz.

All non-US countries view the strait shutdown as a disaster; while Iran hopes that shipping through the strait can return to normal as soon as possible, provided that its sovereignty is established.

For Iran, the best propaganda is to keep the Strait of Hormuz functioning normally, thereby cultivating its image as a "rational manager of global trade" while portraying the United States as a "force that disrupts global trade." Public statements by Iranian officials reveal their efforts to depict the United States as a "foolish and dysfunctional empire," while positioning themselves as the "guardian of the world."

Iran's core objective is clearly to isolate the United States, this "empire," and to prove to the world that Iran can cooperate with other countries even without the US. For Iran, completely closing the Strait of Hormuz again would be tantamount to detonating nuclear weapons in a war with a nuclear power—an absolute last resort.

The Omani officials we met with likened Iran’s long-term plans for the Strait of Hormuz to Turkey’s management model for the Bosphorus and Dardanelles Straits under the Montreux Convention.

The Montreux Convention, established in 1936, governs passage through the Turkish Straits. Turkey possesses full sovereignty over the waterway, allowing free passage for commercial vessels, while military vessels must comply with Turkish restrictions, notifications, and tonnage regulations. Furthermore, in times of war, Turkey can completely prohibit the passage of navies of belligerent nations. It is noteworthy that the United States is not a signatory to this convention. This arrangement, which has lasted for nearly 90 years, is widely recognized as one of the most successful examples of a rules-based order managing strategic chokepoints.

Iran believes that the system it is currently establishing in the Strait of Hormuz is the beginning of a similar model: not a permanent blockade, but the establishment of a sovereign system controlled by Iran—Tehran sets the rules of passage, collects "passage fees," restricts the passage of hostile military vessels, and allows commercial vessels to pass under its own rules.

This perspective is crucial for investors because it reveals what the final outcome could be if the conflict does not end in a complete defeat for Iran. If Iran is pursuing a model that NATO member Turkey has successfully operated for nearly a century, then investors need to consider the implications of such a world order.

Whether the United States will accept this comparison is another question. But in the short term, all parties have only two choices: either let the Strait remain blocked, triggering a global economic disaster in the next two to three weeks; or accept Iran's current "toll passage" model.

Iran's move demonstrates its confidence and shows that its communication partners are not Washington, but other countries around the world.

Although we were unable to speak directly with Iranian policymakers, we had in-depth conversations with Omani officials who have firsthand knowledge of Iran's thinking. The U.S. perspective on this conflict is well-known, but understanding Iran's considerations is equally important.

Iran views this game as a high-stakes gamble: two of the three possible outcomes would improve Iran's situation. Of course, in the third outcome, Iran would cease to exist.

Regardless of the route taken, the ultimate result will be that ships will continue to pass through the Strait of Hormuz. The only difference will be whose flag the ships will fly and who will collect the "passage fee" (if any).

Iran's centralized control and the Houthi rebels as a weapon

From conversations with Omani officials and Qomzal residents with kinship ties to the Iranian military, we get the impression that despite the heavy losses suffered, the Iranian leadership maintains a high degree of centralized control, there are no “autocratic radicals” at the top, and all military operations are closely coordinated centrally, a fact confirmed by all sources.

Omani officials also pointed out that Iran's performance in the conflict—"resisting but restrained"—was not something a fragmented regime could achieve. Evidence of this was that none of the ships authorized to pass by the Iranian Revolutionary Guard were attacked.

The Houthis—a force that should have been the first to strike—have been strictly restrained by Iran and have maintained a low profile. If Iran were to lose control of its proxy forces, the Houthis would be the first to emerge, but they have not done so.

Targets that the Houthis had the capability to attack but didn't, are just as informative as the targets they actually attacked. Restraint requires strict hierarchical control, which means that Iran has sole control over the "tollbooth" of the Strait of Hormuz.

Iran and Oman are cooperating on the management and regulation of the Strait of Hormuz, with Oman viewing the strait as a shared responsibility. During our research trip, Iranian officials were in Oman discussing the details of the strait's management; for obvious reasons, we did not attempt to contact them.

Strait of Hormuz and Bab el-Mandeb Strait

Strait of Hormuz

1. A key node in global energy transportation;

2. It handles approximately one-third of the world's seaborne oil transportation;

3. The core focus of geopolitical risks.

Bab el-Mandeb Strait

1. A strategic passage connecting the Red Sea and the Gulf of Aden;

2. A crucial link in the Suez Canal shipping route;

3. The regional situation is unstable, and the risk of shipping disruption is high.

One of the most valuable pieces of intelligence from this investigation is that Iran is strictly controlling the actions of the Houthi rebels. This information was provided by sources within the Omani government and has been independently confirmed by military and government sources in the region.

The Houthis have always been at the forefront of regional conflicts, as evidenced by their history of clashes with the UAE and Saudi Arabia. As Iran's most radical proxy force, the Houthis have maintained an unusually low profile regarding Red Sea shipping, a stark contrast to the more active Hezbollah in Lebanon. While they have resumed missile attacks on Israel, they have not attempted to blockade the Bab el-Mandeb Strait.

This action was a deliberate arrangement by Iran. Iran is holding onto the "Baman Strait card" as a reserve, only to play it when the conflict escalates to the point where maximum pressure on the global economy is required.

Iran's actions are clearly planned in a hierarchical manner, while the Houthi inaction itself signals that Iran has precise control over the pace of escalation in the conflict. By allowing ships to pass through the Strait of Hormuz normally and refraining from instructing the Houthis to blockade the Red Sea, Iran is striving to gain room for sovereignty negotiations with all parties involved.

This action was a deliberate maneuver by Iran. Iran is holding onto the "Baman Strait card" as a backup plan, only to play it when the conflict escalates to the point where extreme pressure on the global economy is required.

Iran's series of actions have been clearly planned in a hierarchical manner, while the Houthi inaction itself is a signal, demonstrating Iran's precise control over the pace of the conflict's escalation. By allowing ships to pass normally through the Strait of Hormuz and refraining from instructing the Houthis to blockade the Red Sea, Iran is creating space for itself to engage in sovereignty negotiations with all parties.

If the situation changes, the window for negotiation will close.

Throughout this conflict, Iran has consistently demonstrated considerable restraint. The escalation of the situation in the Strait of Hormuz began after the conclusion of the previous battle, the outbreak of a new conflict, and the violation of Iran's core red lines. Nevertheless, considering the current trajectory of US military operations, the Houthi rebels still have the potential to escalate their actions.

Future predictions

Sources directly from the Oman governor's office revealed that the ground conflict within Iran will continue, while shipping volume in the Strait of Hormuz will rebound accordingly. The parties trapped there are not willingly stagnating, but are all trying to maintain unimpeded shipping. The ground fighting may continue, but if not, all other relevant parties will continue their normal lives and production activities.

The consensus we reached from all our interviewees was that during the conflict, ships from the United States and its pro-American allies would have difficulty passing through the Strait of Hormuz, while ships from all other countries would be queuing up to apply for passage permits from Iran.

The list of countries granted passage is rapidly expanding. On March 26, Iran initially granted passage to five countries: China, Russia, India, Iraq, and Pakistan. Within a week, Malaysia, Thailand, the Philippines, France, and Japan also successfully obtained passage rights. We predict that this list will continue to grow—because countries around the world will realize that the costs associated with diplomatic engagement with Iran to secure their energy supplies are worthwhile.

Unless the situation undergoes a fundamental reversal, we believe that EU ships will no longer be attacked during the conflict.

We have extremely high confidence in the gradual resumption of navigation in the Strait of Hormuz. This is the overwhelming conclusion drawn from all the on-site experiences and interviews during this research trip. The future situation can only unfold in two possible ways: either the United States launches a devastating attack on Iran, completely depriving it of its ability to exercise sovereignty, and the Strait of Hormuz resumes free navigation under US security control; or the conflict continues to escalate into a costly and unpopular war, in which Iran achieves its core demand—the resumption of navigation in the Strait of Hormuz under its own administration.

At the same time, for all countries except the United States, the safest option is to reach an agreement with Iran to ensure the continued smooth flow of shipping.