Maritime choke points: How colonial military hubris repeats in Strait of Hormuz, ignoring 1915 Gallipoli’s systemic failures

Indigenous and local communities in the Strait of Hormuz region have historically resisted external control over their waters, from the maritime traditions of the Arab tribes of the Persian Gulf to the ecological stewardship practices of coastal communities. These groups have long navigated the strait as a shared resource, not a contested chokepoint, but their knowledge and agency are systematically excluded from geopolitical discourse. The Gallipoli campaign, too, was a failure of colonial powers to recognize the agency of local Ottoman forces and the resilience of indigenous resistance.

The Strait of Hormuz crisis echoes centuries of maritime conflicts, from the Portuguese occupation of Hormuz in the 16th century to British naval dominance in the 19th century, all of which were rooted in the control of trade routes and resource extraction. Gallipoli, similarly, was part of a broader pattern of European imperial overreach in the Middle East, where great powers underestimated local resistance and overestimated their own strategic acumen. Both cases reveal a cyclical failure to learn from history, as each generation repeats the same mistakes under the guise of 'strategic necessity.'

Cross-culturally, maritime choke points have been framed as shared commons rather than contested territories, as seen in the Indian Ocean trade networks of the Swahili Coast or the maritime traditions of the Malay Archipelago. In contrast, Western geopolitical thought often reduces these spaces to 'chokepoints'—a term that itself reflects a colonial mindset of control and domination. The Strait of Hormuz crisis could be reframed through the lens of 'shared maritime heritage,' where sovereignty is not about exclusion but about collaborative stewardship.

Scientifically, the Strait of Hormuz crisis is a case study in the geopolitical risks of critical infrastructure dependency, where 20-30% of global oil trade passes through a single, highly militarized chokepoint. Research on maritime security highlights how resource scarcity, climate-induced migration, and economic inequality exacerbate conflicts over such chokepoints, yet these factors are rarely integrated into strategic analyses. The Gallipoli campaign, too, was a failure of military science, where logistics and terrain were miscalculated, leading to catastrophic losses.

Artistically, the Strait of Hormuz has inspired centuries of poetry, music, and visual art that frame the sea as a living entity, not a resource to be controlled. Persian miniatures and Arabic calligraphy often depict the strait as a bridge between cultures, while maritime festivals like the Qeshm Island pearl diving traditions celebrate its ecological and cultural significance. The Gallipoli campaign, in contrast, is remembered in Western art as a tragic folly, but in Turkish and Middle Eastern traditions, it is a symbol of resilience and defiance against colonial domination.

Future modelling of the Strait of Hormuz crisis must account for climate-induced water scarcity, the rise of alternative trade routes (e.g., Arctic shipping), and the potential for regional cooperation frameworks like the Hormuz Peace Initiative. Scenario planning should explore de-escalation through shared environmental governance, such as a 'Strait of Hormuz Marine Protected Area,' which could reduce militarization while addressing ecological degradation. The Gallipoli campaign serves as a cautionary tale: unchecked military ambition in the face of systemic complexity leads to catastrophic failure.

Marginalised voices—including fishermen, port workers, and indigenous communities in the Strait of Hormuz—are systematically excluded from narratives about the crisis, despite bearing the brunt of militarization and environmental degradation. Their knowledge of local ecosystems, trade networks, and cultural practices could provide alternative solutions to de-escalation, such as community-led maritime patrols or shared fishing zones. The Gallipoli campaign, too, silenced the voices of Ottoman soldiers and local civilians, whose experiences were reduced to 'collateral damage' in strategic analyses.