In his latest remarks on Iran, Donald Trump has described the war not as a “war” but as a “military conflict,” calling it “not very important” for the US and no more than “small potatoes.” At the same time, he says the importance of the Strait of Hormuz will decline through the creation of alternative routes via Syria and the construction of pipelines, and that the waterway will no longer have the same significance for transporting oil.

On the surface, Trump is trying to present an entirely successful picture of the situation: the US has the upper hand on the battlefield, the war has not imposed significant costs on Washington, Hormuz is no longer a decisive chokepoint, and alternative routes are available for oil. But putting these claims together reveals a fundamental contradiction: if Hormuz is truly under full US control, why is the White House simultaneously placing such heavy emphasis on building alternative routes? And if the war is really “not a big deal,” why does Washington need to seek alternative routes and new oil sources to reduce its vulnerability to energy disruptions?

This is not just about the war; it is about the war of narratives.

On the one hand, Trump wants to sell the image of “control of Hormuz” to US markets and the American public. On the other, as the importance of Hormuz and the risk of disruption there remain visible in energy markets, he advances another narrative: Hormuz is no longer that important because the US has other routes.

But the reality is that having a route on a map is different from having an operational and reliable route. Reviving the Iraqi oil route through Syria, building pipelines, securing them, investing in infrastructure, increasing production, and creating transportation and refining capacity are not projects that can replace a vital chokepoint such as Hormuz within a matter of weeks or months.

Venezuelan oil must be understood within precisely the same framework.

Trump is trying to portray US access to Venezuelan oil as an immediate trump card in the face of the energy crisis, as if Washington could secure a huge new source of oil overnight through a political agreement and offset the effects of market disruption.

Even if we assume all of Washington’s claims about the extent of US access to Venezuela’s oil reserves are accurate, the process will not unfold with such simplicity or speed. Oil underground does not enter the market simply because an agreement is announced. Increasing production requires investment, the reconstruction of facilities, equipment, a workforce, transportation infrastructure, export and refining capacity, and time to develop into a stable and significant flow.

Therefore, at this point, Venezuelan oil is more of a propaganda tool in Trump’s hands than an immediate solution to the energy crisis.

This narrative is being crafted for a specific audience: American voter.

Trump needs to tell Americans that if the war has disrupted Hormuz, they should not worry; the US has alternative oil supplies. If fuel prices have risen, another route has been found. If the war has dragged on, it is not a major issue. And if the costs of the war have increased, the US is still winning.

This is where the November midterm elections enter the equation.

The November 3 election could determine the extent of Republican control over Congress, and the Iran war is approaching the election at a time when energy and everyday living costs have risen for Americans. Polls also indicate that the war could become a political issue for the Trump administration.

For this reason, Trump’s language cannot simply be dismissed as a collection of scattered remarks. He is constructing an electoral narrative: It is not a war; it is a small conflict. Hormuz is not a major issue; there is an alternative route. We will not run short of oil; we have Venezuela. And costs have not risen; America is ultimately winning.

But the problem is that US economy is not governed by narratives.

US diesel prices have reached a record $5.85 a gallon, an increase that directly drives up transportation, agricultural, construction and goods-distribution costs and ultimately feeds through into consumer prices.

The global food market is telling the same story. The FAO Food Price Index reached 133.3 points in August, its highest level since November 2022. The FAO has explicitly cited the consequences of the Iran war and disruptions to regional trade, alongside weather-related factors and trade disruptions, as one of the sources of pressure on food markets.

In other words, what Trump calls “small” is moving beyond the battlefield and into people’s shopping baskets.

More expensive diesel means more expensive transportation; more expensive transportation means more expensive food and goods; and higher inflation means greater pressure on American households. This chain is precisely what can turn a foreign crisis into a domestic electoral issue.

Even the effort to rename and reframe the military operation can be assessed in the same context. The Pentagon had announced that Operation Epic Fury had ended on May 5, but in August, Air Force personnel were instructed not to use the name for their ongoing operations. This change in terminology, alongside recent remarks by Trump and his vice president that the word “war” should not be used, shows that Washington places particular importance on managing the narrative surrounding the war.

The problem, however, is that the name of a war can be changed, but the bill for the war cannot.

Trump can say it is not a war, but 18 US service members have been killed and the cost reported in recent reports has surpassed $37.5 billion. He can say Hormuz is not important, but oil and transportation markets continue to react to disruptions in the waterway. He can present Venezuelan oil as a solution, but oil that has not yet been produced or transported cannot fill a market gap overnight.

This is the gap that could become a political problem for Trump in the months ahead: the distance between what the White House says and what people experience in their daily lives.

Trump needs a success story for the election. A story in which the war is small, costs are manageable, Hormuz has become irrelevant, and the US has alternative oil resources. Venezuelan oil, the Syrian route and the downplaying of the conflict are different pieces of that same story.

But ballot boxes are not filled with White House narratives; they are filled by people’s experience of fuel prices, food, housing and the cost of living.

Trump can change “war” to “conflict”; he can remove “Epic Fury” from the Pentagon’s vocabulary; he can call Hormuz “unnecessary” and present Venezuelan oil as a “solution.” But he cannot change the number displayed on the gas station sign.

And this is where a major contradiction emerges:

Trump wants to prove before the election that the war has been small for America. But if the costs of this very “small war” are felt in the pockets of American voters by November, the war Trump calls small could prove to be a very big problem for the Republican Party.

The main battle is no longer just over Hormuz; it is over the narrative surrounding Hormuz. Washington wants to say that Hormuz is under control, that Hormuz is not important, that the war is over and that alternative oil supplies are available. But markets and people’s daily lives are telling a different story.

The war may be over in official statements, but if prices remain high through November, the war could only just begin at the ballot box.