Historically, presidents known for their trysts with supermodels have a shockingly high record of averting nuclear war. This past Easter Sunday, the entire world began to hold its breath, waiting to see if history would surrender its rhyme.
It is not hard to remember a time when, on any random Tuesday, an American president might attack Russia for their military tactics, hitting the occasional bridge or power plant. Bloviating to the American people about ethical military actions that separate “the good guys and bad guys.” Occasionally, they have even used that same simple language.
“Tuesday will be Power Plant Day, and Bridge Day, all wrapped up in one, in Iran,” President Donald Trump said in an April 5 post on Truth Social. “There will be nothing like it!!! Open the f****** strait, you crazy b*******, or you’ll be living in Hell – JUST WATCH! Praise be to Allah.”
The 3:30 a.m. deadline approached in Tehran. This shift signaled not the arrival of nuclear devastation, but rather the dawn of a new economic era. The Iranian people faced a world stirred by the emergence of a rising power, its presence felt in the rumblings of transformation rather than destruction.
In the final moments of the president’s ultimatum, a last-minute, hastily thrown-together peace agreement, conjured by the Pakistani Congress, was accepted by both sides.
America awoke not to an atrocity of its design. No expanse of mountains and desert was turned into a giant sheet of glass.
They had, however, awoken to the greatest strategic defeat in modern warfare.
This marks what could soon be known as the death of modern seafaring, sending cascades of consequences rippling through global commerce.
Goods being shipped across the high seas may seem a modern affair. This could not be further from the truth.
Maritime trade dates back centuries. Consider that neither tobacco nor potatoes are native to Europe, Africa or Asia. Recall that the vast majority of North and South Americans are not native to those places.
There is evidence of ancient voyages undertaken by the Phoenicians of the Levant as far as Ireland, as well as Viking voyages to Massachusetts. The modern thinker vastly underestimates their ancestors’ ability to move over water.
What does not follow tradition in that respect is the safety of the water. Nations have not always been cooperative.
Macau, Nassau, Tortuga and the Barbary Kingdoms were once entities run by pirates.
Leaving any port was a dance with seawater, cold wind, and death. Dealing with piracy was primarily left as a cost for corporations at the time. Second Amendment defenders cite a letter from Thomas Jefferson in which he defends the right of maritime traders to use naval cannons out of sheer necessity.
It was during the Barbary Wars, the first international war of United States intervention, when the United States established a precedent to uphold peace on the water for the sake of universal profit. These standards held against centuries of rising tensions.
This shift in national priorities came with caveats: higher taxes, tighter rules on ports and stricter registration standards for vessels — but the everyman reaped the rewards. With reduced import costs, the price of imported goods plummeted in turn.
This completely changed the way business is conducted internationally. It is much easier to ship goods to the other side of the world without fear of them exploding, being stolen, or sinking two miles deep to the bottom of the Atlantic.
The oceans have been a generally safe place to travel for such a long time that modern purchasers simply do not consider what might happen if marine cargo insurance rates were to experience a 300% increase.
This change could risk a return to the oil rationing practices of the 1970s. U.S. allies have already begun to adopt these methods.
But even choppier economic waters lie ahead.
The Strait of Hormuz is a pivotal waterway for transit.
Consider a world where the Houthis in Yemen can purchase the exact same Shahed drones used by Iran, from Iran — an Iran that could become fabulously wealthy by imposing a toll through the Strait of Hormuz.
If inexpensive mines and drones to implement tolls are now legitimate international policy, a needy country like Yemen would be remiss to let 7% of the world’s oil supply sail by without paying its share.
Oil is not the only commodity to be moved primarily by ship. Spices, rice, and cars are widely transported this way, as well as silicon and helium — two pivotal elements in digital technology.
Even dropship economy giants, as ubiquitous as Temu, are ravaged by these tensions.
Depending on the year, roughly 80-90% of global trade — by volume — must sail at least one of the seven seas.
A return to the maritime tradition of gold —which would probably be liquid now — would have deep, ugly ramifications across every economy in the world.
US allies are feeling it.
South Korea and Taiwan are running out of rare earth elements. Only the countries that the rest of the globe depends on most tensely have them in spades. The Philippines and Australia are running out of fuel — generally speaking — and flights have been cancelled all over the world.
The catchiest part of the sea shanty is that there is no easy solution for a geopolitical situation that has become far more tense for the United States in the last month.
Public support for the war is unmanageably low.
Even the Vietnam War enjoyed a rather high support from the public before 19-year-olds from every suburb in America were forced into booby-trapped holes in the jungle.
Americans hate this war just as much, and only a few broken bodies have even had the chance to make it home in a box.
Most military analysts agree that a ground invasion could assuredly secure control of the strait. Political analysts suggest, however, that this could be a shot across the bow for an administration struggling not to seem like a sinking ship.
The only option that remains yet unexplored is literally nuclear. This is even more unpopular — potentially even apocalyptic.
America has forced itself into an entirely untenable situation. Iran is getting wealthier and has replaced their aged leader with a younger and evidently far more economically strategic one.
Billions of dollars are spent on bombing and missile runs every day. Replenishing the stockpile of missiles and bombs is projected to take from five years to a decade.
In a risky gambit, the United States wagered the political shipping infrastructure on a chance for the grandest regime change in the Middle East yet.
The results have been unfavorable.
