By Charles Matseke.
As the Trump moment deepens into what can only be described as a sustained departure from both international law and conventional presidential conduct, global partners are increasingly forced to navigate an environment defined by both coercion and choice. What began as an “America First” recalibration has evolved into a foreign policy doctrine marked by unilateralism, executive improvisation and institutional disengagement.
One that, as earlier analyses suggest, has already inflicted lasting damage on U.S. credibility and global leadership. In its current form, this approach, captured in what some have termed a revival of “gunboat diplomacy” or even the emerging “Donroe Doctrine” prioritises pressure over predictability, and dominance over consensus. Against this backdrop, the escalation of the Israel–Iran war and the strategic weaponisation of the Strait of Hormuz reveal not only the limits of coercive power, but the unintended acceleration of structural shifts such as de-dollarisation.
As the Israel–Iran war enters a dangerous phase, the Strait of Hormuz has re-emerged as the fulcrum of global economic risk. Roughly a fifth of the world’s oil supply transits this narrow corridor. Recent disruptions driven by drone activity, naval harassment and selective passage have already pushed energy prices upward. Yet the significance of the current moment extends beyond shipping lanes. It lies in the interaction between three dynamics: the return of U.S. “gunboat diplomacy,” the gradual trend toward de-dollarisation, and the strategic weaponisation of Hormuz.
President Donald Trump’s second-term foreign policy has been marked by an unusually direct, often contradictory, use of executive power in external affairs. Following Israel’s 18 March 2026 strike on Iran’s South Pars gas field, Trump publicly disavowed U.S. involvement despite Israeli claims of coordination before issuing a blunt directive that there should be “NO MORE ATTACKS” on Iranian energy infrastructure. This oscillation between denial, command and restraint illustrates a style of crisis management that privileges unilateral signalling over institutional coherence.
The divergence in stated objectives between Washington and Tel Aviv reinforces this pattern. Testimony from U.S. intelligence leadership suggests a narrower American goal; degrading Iran’s maritime and missile capabilities to secure trade while Israel appears to be pursuing broader strategic aims, including regime destabilisation. Reports of internal friction in Washington, including resignations and accusations of lobbying pressure, further point to a policy environment shaped less by settled doctrine than by executive improvisation.
This matters because the credibility of U.S. commitments both to allies and to global markets rests on predictability. In the absence of it, states and firms begin to hedge.
The Strait of Hormuz is where these hedging behaviours become visible. Iran has not imposed a total blockade. Instead, it has pursued a calibrated disruption: selective exclusion of adversaries, the use of mines and drones to raise insurance costs, and the informal designation of “safe corridors” for certain countries. The result is not closure, but friction’ enough to tighten supply, elevate prices and inject uncertainty into routing decisions.
Within this environment, reports that Iran is exploring or encouraging non-dollar settlement for oil passing through Hormuz particularly in Chinese yuan or other currencies take on added significance. Even if applied inconsistently, such practices would not replace the dollar overnight. But they would extend an existing trend: the marginal diversification of currency use in energy trade, already visible among several large emerging economies.
The link to U.S. policy is indirect but consequential. Over time, the expansive use of sanctions, tariffs and secondary penalties has increased the incentive for states to develop alternatives to dollar-denominated systems. In a crisis setting, where access to key routes like Hormuz is contested, those alternatives become more than theoretical. They become operational workarounds.
This is where “gunboat diplomacy” intersects with de-dollarisation. Coercive economic tools can still shape behaviour, but their effectiveness depends on the absence of viable substitutes. As substitutes emerge’ whether in payment systems, currency arrangements or logistics’ the same tools risk producing diminishing returns.
None of this implies an imminent collapse of the dollar or U.S. power. The dollar remains the dominant currency in global trade and finance and the United States retains unmatched military capabilities. The more measured conclusion is that the system is becoming less exclusive. In such a system, even partial shifts and some cargoes settled in alternative currencies, some routes selectively denied, some alliances hedged’ can accumulate into meaningful change over time.
For middle powers and trading states, including South Africa, the implications are practical. Selective access through Hormuz, rerouting via the Cape, higher insurance premiums and volatile energy prices all translate into real economic costs. At the same time, offers of preferential passage or alternative settlement terms illustrate the geopolitical bargaining now embedded in trade itself.
If the war continues along its current trajectory, three outcomes are plausible. First, sustained friction in Hormuz will keep energy markets tight and sensitive to shocks. Second, currency diversification in energy trade may deepen at the margins, especially where political risk is highest. Third, U.S. influence will remain substantial but more contested, as allies and partners navigate an environment defined by both coercion and choice.
The central question is not whether the United States is declining, but whether its current approach is suited to a system already in transition. In a more plural global order, power is exercised not only through pressure, but through the ability to anchor rules, expectations and trust. Where policy becomes unpredictable, others will plan accordingly.
In that sense, the Strait of Hormuz is more than a chokepoint. It is a test of how geopolitical strategy, financial architecture and energy security interact under stress and of how quickly the ground can shift when they do.
Charles Matseke (MPhil in Politics and International Relations) is a researcher and writer with a keen interest in contemporary political dynamics.
The views expressed here are not necessarily those of Fullview.