Dr S Shabih ul Hassan Rizvi
WATER is obviously a fluid, but very rarely has fluid intelligence been applied to the weaponization of waterways.
History shows heat, not thought; force, not foresight. Yet this time, as the United States and Iran reached a ceasefire, fluid intelligence briefly prevailed over fiery tempers. Credit, unmistakably, goes to Pakistan. A fluid approach defers reaction; a rigid power rushes toward ruin.
Pakistan’s relevance to waterways is not new. Seventy-one years ago, on April 10, 1957, the Suez Canal reopened after being blocked on November 2, 1956, when the Egyptian President Gamal Abdel Nasser ordered ships sunk to seal the artery of a beating business heart. The first telegram to Cairo came not from any capitals the word countries but from the Rawalpindi Chamber of Commerce. It revealed the geopolitical awareness and commercial consciousness rare in postcolonial states at that time. Islamabad did not exist then as a capital city but its influence, intriguingly, did.
The present moment echoes that past, but with amplified stakes. The United States and Iran reached a ceasefire less than two hours before a deadline that threatened devastation. Bombing was suspended for two weeks, contingent upon reopening the Strait of Hormuz. A “double-sided ceasefire,” as it was termed, followed a remarkable diplomatic reversal, from threats of annihilation to terms of negotiation. Iran’s ten-point proposal, sanctions relief, asset release, troop withdrawal, reparations and recognition of nuclear rights, was acknowledged in principle. Yet ambiguity lingers: enrichment remains contested and Israel questions the ceasefire’s geographic scope.
A pause, however temporary, is not peace; it is postponed peril. The philosophy of Logical Pausism, delaying decisive action to prevent irreversible error, has, for now, prevailed. The world breathes, not because conflict ended, but because calculation intervened. Waterways have long been weaponized. At Siffin and Karbala, access to water was denied before swords were drawn. In the Peloponnesian War, Aegean routes were strangled by naval blockades. Constantinople fell as the Ottomans sealed the Bosporus. Empires once ruled seas; now, chokepoints rule economies.
Modern history refines the pattern. The Suez closure of 1956–57 transformed a canal into a geopolitical fault line. The prolonged shutdown after 1967 rerouted global shipping for many years. The Iran-Iraq “Tanker War” disrupted Hormuz without sealing it. A single vessel, in March 2021, blocked Suez for six days. The Black Sea blockade amid the Russia-Ukraine conflict choked grain flows, converting water into leverage over food security.
The method has evolved. Earlier closures relied on physical domination, chains, fleets, sieges. Today’s disruptions blend obstruction with signalling. Hormuz is not merely a passage; it is a pressure point. Nearly one-fifth of global oil flows through it. Its closure would not inconvenience a region; it would convulse the world. History punishes those who misunderstand waterways. Churchill’s Gallipoli gamble failed disastrously; Nasser’s scuttled ships humbled empires. Control of water is control of consequence.
Yet a subtle shift may be underway. Reports suggest Iran has contemplated imposing hefty fees on vessels transiting Hormuz. If true, the transformation is profound: from weaponizing to monetizing. Power seeks profit when force reaches its limit. Economics follows strategy; strategy, increasingly, follows economics.
Waterways are no longer silent channels; they now speak as eloquently as money does. Waterways are weaponized to monetize, turning waves into wallets. From current affairs to the currents of seas and oceans, one truth persists: whoever commands the flow finally controls the financial world and the world’s future.
—The writer is Chairman of the international think-tank World Future Forum.
