NOURNEWS: Trump’s symbolic renaming of the Strait of Hormuz as the “Trump Strait” appears aimed at changing through propaganda a reality he has been unable to change on the ground. The central question is no longer how many ships can pass through the strait under military escort, with identification systems switched off and at considerable risk. The real question is whether the United States has managed to overcome the practical closure of the Strait of Hormuz.
Recent developments provide a clear answer: the limited and high-risk passage of a few vessels cannot change the reality of a practically blocked strategic waterway through publicity and messaging.
If the Strait of Hormuz were operating under normal conditions, there would be no need for military escorts, nighttime crossings, AIS shutdowns, or the transfer of cargoes from one vessel to another. Reports on tanker traffic also indicate a significant gap between current levels of transit and conditions before the war. There are even substantial discrepancies between claims by U.S. officials and data from vessel-tracking companies over the number of ships crossing the strait and the volume of oil being transported.
Trump’s effort to prove that “Hormuz is open,” therefore, is in effect an attempt to challenge the very meaning of the strait’s practical closure. Washington wants to use the passage of several ships under U.S. Navy protection to convey the message that Iran has failed to halt maritime traffic. But this argument has a fundamental weakness: if crossing the strait requires military escorts and acceptance of the possibility of attack, it can no longer be compared with normal peacetime conditions. Oil prices, petroleum product prices, and related markets also clearly reflect this reality.
Within this context, the renaming of Hormuz as the “Trump Strait” takes on a different meaning. Legally, the move has no effect and cannot change the name of an international waterway. But from the perspective of psychological warfare, it carries significance. By putting his name on Hormuz, Trump is seeking to create an image of U.S. authority and control over the waterway—precisely at a time when Washington has been forced to deploy forces, escort tankers, and accept rising risks in an effort to challenge the restrictions imposed by Iran.
In other words, the “Trump Strait” is less a sign of U.S. dominance over Hormuz than an attempt to construct the image of such dominance. The greater the gap between perception and reality, the greater the need for propaganda.
But recent developments point to an even more important layer. The U.S. attack on two Iranian oil tankers at port—the first such incident—suggests that the confrontation may be entering a new phase, moving beyond the dispute over passage through the strait toward a “ship-for-ship” confrontation. If Washington’s objective is to raise the costs for Iran and alter Tehran’s calculations regarding maritime restrictions, Tehran’s natural response could also take shape along the same lines.
This is where the main danger emerges. If Iran responds to attacks on its tankers with retaliatory action against vessels linked to the United States or its allies, a cycle could develop that becomes increasingly difficult for both sides to control. At that point, the issue would no longer be limited to a tanker in the strait. Every vessel, port, terminal, transportation route, shipping company, and even the insurance and ship-to-ship transfer chain could become part of the confrontation.
This is the shift that should be taken seriously. Iran had previously warned that if Iranian oil could not be exported, the exports of others could not continue without consequences. Now, with the expansion of the list of banned vessels and the widening of restrictions, that warning is increasingly being translated into an operational mechanism. The addition of 11 more vessels to the blacklist, bringing the total to 56, along with threats against companies cooperating with those vessels, suggests that Tehran is seeking to shift the cost of transit and cooperation from individual ships to the broader shipping chain.
From this perspective, the U.S. action against the two Iranian tankers could also produce a counterproductive outcome. Washington may seek to establish deterrence through a “ship-for-ship” strategy, but if Tehran adopts the same logic, the United States would have to protect not only the strait but a much broader chain of energy flows in order to maintain even limited energy traffic.
The cost of such a mission would be far greater than escorting a few tankers through a single waterway.
This is where Trump’s paradox lies: to prove that the United States controls Hormuz, Washington must increase its military presence. But a greater military presence also increases the likelihood of confrontation, thereby raising the cost and risk of passage. Any retaliatory strike could further expand the crisis from the strait to ports and energy-export infrastructure.
The real battle is no longer about what the Strait of Hormuz is called on a map, or how many ships can pass through it under escort and at high cost and risk. The real battle is over who gets to determine the cost, risk, and rules governing the movement of energy through this region.
Trump can put the name “Trump Strait” on a map, but renaming the waterway cannot change the reality on the ground. If proving control over the strait requires the United States to resort to escorts, confrontation, and a “ship-for-ship” conflict, that is itself evidence that the Hormuz issue has not been resolved—and that the challenge it poses to the United States has become even more serious.
The region has now entered a far more dangerous phase, in which any tanker could become the spark for a new round of tensions in the Persian Gulf.