The latest episode of Hindustan Times’ ‘Point Blank’, featuring Executive Editor Shishir Gupta in conversation with Senior Anchor Aayesha Varma, paints a stark picture of a Middle East war that has paused, not ended, and a global order that could be reshaped by what happens in and around the Strait of Hormuz.
A blockade at the world’s chokepoint
At the heart of the conversation is the United States’ announcement of a naval blockade at the Strait of Hormuz, ordered by President Donald Trump after the collapse of talks in Islamabad and reports of Iranian oil tankers heading to China. The plan, as outlined, is to block Iranian and Iran‑allied ships from entering or exiting, while allowing non‑Iranian shipping to pass, with implementation slated for 8 p.m. Washington time.
Yet, as Gupta stresses, this is “easier said than done”. Key operational questions remain unanswered: Will the cordon sit in the Gulf of Oman, at the mouth of the Strait, or deeper inside the Persian Gulf? The US has reportedly pushed two Arleigh Burke–class destroyers into the Strait, but with warships typically switching off their AIS (automated identification systems), independent verification is difficult. What is clear is that American naval presence is now dense across the Gulf of Oman and the northern Arabian Sea, with a wider plan to effectively choke Iran’s maritime access, including ports on the North Arabian Sea and potentially even the Caspian region.
Gupta warns that such a move invites retaliation from Iran, using mines, explosive‑laden kamikaze boats, missiles and drones against US and allied shipping. Any such strike would almost certainly trigger counter‑retaliation by heavily armed US destroyers and aircraft carriers, raising the risk of a wider escalation.
From nuclear deadlock to fragile ceasefire
The Islamabad talks, meant to consolidate a ceasefire, were “doomed from the very beginning,” Gupta argues, because both Washington and Tehran came with maximalist positions and irreconcilable red lines on Iran’s nuclear programme.
He recalls the core trigger of the war: Iran’s uranium enrichment drive. For civilian nuclear power, enrichment typically ranges between 3.75 and 5 per cent, but Iran had already pushed to 60 per cent—perilously close to weapons‑grade, which lies in the 80 per cent plus range. The military objective of the US‑Israel campaign, he notes, was to “emasculate” Iran’s nuclear capability.
Any sustainable peace, in this logic, would require Iran to cap its programme and hand over its 60 per cent enriched stockpile to a third country or the IAEA. But such a concession would be politically suicidal for Tehran’s hardline regime and amount to de facto regime change. On the other side, the US and Israel cannot accept an Iran that retains the capacity to move quickly to weapons‑grade enrichment; simply promising not to build a bomb is not credible in their eyes, especially given the Iranian leadership’s elliptical public messaging.
This structural clash meant the Islamabad talks were never likely to produce a breakthrough, and their collapse shifted the centre of gravity back to the Strait of Hormuz.
Economic shock and the domino risk at sea
Beyond the military dimension, Gupta underlines the enormous economic stakes. An estimated 900 ships are reportedly stuck in the Persian Gulf; if they cannot exit, the immediate result will be an energy crunch that can quickly spiral into a global economic crisis. That, in turn, may force central banks to raise interest rates again, tightening financial conditions worldwide. Crude prices have already jumped.
He points to another, more systemic concern: precedent. If the world accepts a contested closure of the Strait of Hormuz today, what prevents other powers from blockading other key chokepoints tomorrow—the Strait of Malacca, the Ten Degree Channel between the Andaman and Nicobar Islands, the Strait of Gibraltar, or even heavily trafficked approaches in East Asia? International maritime law, via the UN Convention on the Law of the Sea, is explicit that no country can arbitrarily block transit passage. Allowing unilateral tolls or closures would open the door to a domino effect in which critical sea lanes become bargaining chips in regional rivalries.
This is also why the US, Gupta notes, cannot simply allow Iran to “dominate” Hormuz and charge a de facto toll, but equally cannot treat freedom of navigation selectively without undercutting its own legal and political arguments.
India’s role: not a failure, but a different game
The breakdown of talks and Pakistan’s role as a mediator between Washington and Tehran have triggered predictable commentary at home about whether Indian diplomacy has “failed”. Gupta firmly rejects this framing.
He describes Pakistan as a “convenient lackey” of the US, used repeatedly over decades, with longstanding ties to Iran and a history of playing both sides—from facilitating the flight of Al‑Qaeda leaders via Iran after the launch of Operation Enduring Freedom, to acting as a channel in the current crisis. That Islamabad is in the room, he argues, says little about India’s diplomatic clout and much about Pakistan’s utility as a transactional partner.
India, by contrast, he says, is operating on an entirely different plane, focused on “post‑ceasefire diplomacy”. He cites New Delhi’s support to Sri Lanka via fuel supplies during its crisis, repaired ties with Bangladesh after the exit of Mohammad Yunus, strong relations with the new leadership in Nepal, pragmatic engagement with the Taliban in Afghanistan, and management of a difficult relationship with Maldives. In the Gulf crisis specifically, External Affairs Minister S. Jaishankar’s visit to Abu Dhabi was meant to thank the UAE for supporting the Indian diaspora when Iranian missiles were flying, with similar outreach planned to Saudi Arabia.
For Gupta, the attempt to hyphenate India with Pakistan in this scenario is misplaced. India is not competing to be a fixer between Washington and Tehran; it is safeguarding its diaspora, its energy security and its wider regional relationships.
China’s shadow, and the limits of its leverage
The conversation also touches on reports of China supplying air defence systems, ammunition and missiles to Iran during the ceasefire, and Beijing’s alleged role in nudging Tehran towards talks. Gupta is sceptical of claims of outsized Chinese influence.
He points out that President Trump has openly threatened tariffs on China if it is found supplying weapons to Iran, suggesting Washington does believe something is happening on that axis. However, he argues Western media often overrates Chinese clout while underrating India’s, and that there is little transparency on what Beijing has actually delivered, beyond the fact that some of Iran’s air defence systems are Chinese‑origin.
Crucially, he notes, Iran has been “pulverized” by US strikes and does not need China to tell it when to talk; its own strategic predicament is incentive enough. At the same time, the US is grappling with domestic inflation at around 3.3 per cent and an approaching midterm election cycle, leaving Trump unable to appear weak, just as Iran’s leadership cannot be seen yielding to Washington without risking regime change. In this context, claims that China is the decisive broker look overstated.
Pakistan, Gupta suggests, has almost certainly briefed Beijing on the talks, given their “iron brother” relationship, but that is a far cry from China masterminding the diplomatic track.
Israel’s slow‑burn strategy and the Gulf’s dilemma
On Israel, Gupta insists that Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu still enjoys substantial domestic support, despite criticism and war fatigue. Israel’s strategy, he explains, has never been about neat, decisive victories but about systematically degrading adversaries’ capabilities—whether pushing Hezbollah north of the Litani River or exploiting every opening to hit Iranian assets.
Looking ahead, he anticipates “sporadic escalation” rather than an immediate return to full‑scale war. Much depends on whether Iran chooses to retaliate militarily to the Hormuz blockade; if it does, counter‑strikes are inevitable, but in the absence of such moves, the guns may stay relatively quiet even as tensions simmer.
For the Gulf monarchies, the war has been a sobering reminder of their vulnerability. Reports have circulated about Pakistan sending 13,000 troops and 18 fighters to Saudi Arabia after the ceasefire, though Gupta stresses there is “no transparency” and no confirmation on this deployment. In any case, he argues, the region’s states will have to deepen both defensive and offensive capabilities and work more closely with each other to ensure they are not treated as collateral damage in someone else’s war.
The United States, too, faces hard questions from its Gulf partners about how they were allowed to be hit so severely despite years of security assurances.
For now, as Gupta puts it, the war has ceased, but the peace is “very, very fragile” and could unravel at any time. Yet he remains cautiously optimistic that over the longer term, “dialogue and diplomacy will ultimately take primacy over missiles and bombs”—not out of idealism, but because all the key players, from Washington to Tehran to the Gulf, simply have too much to lose.
