Editorial

When Arab nations recently sought UN Security Council authorization for military action to forcibly reopen the Strait of Hormuz, the proposal hit an immovable wall. Russia, China, and France—three permanent members with veto power—refused to countenance any language that would greenlight the use of force against Iran. Critics may call this obstruction. In reality, it was a prudent defence of international law and regional stability.

The Strait of Hormuz is a vital chokepoint through which nearly one-fifth of global oil passes. Any disruption would send shockwaves through energy markets and the world economy. Yet the instinct to reach for a military solution misunderstands both the nature of the crisis and the purpose of the UN Charter. Authorising force against Iran would not merely risk a wider war; it would set a dangerous precedent that economic or navigational disputes can be settled with bombs rather than bargaining.

France’s stance is particularly instructive. As a European power with naval assets in the region, Paris understands that military escalation in the Gulf would imperil its own forces and allies. For Russia and China, the calculus is different but convergent: both reject unilateral or multilateral military interventions unsanctioned by clear self-defence criteria. Beijing relies on Gulf energy supplies and sees no upside in a conflict that could spike oil prices and derail global growth. Moscow views any authorisation of force as a slippery slope toward regime-change operations, which it has long opposed.

Crucially, the Arab push overlooked a basic legal reality. Even if the Security Council had passed such a resolution, its legitimacy would have been contested. The UN Charter permits force only in self-defence or with explicit Council authorisation for threats to international peace. While a blockade of the strait would be illegal, the remedy is not automatically airstrikes. Diplomacy, maritime escorts, and economic pressure remain less catastrophic tools.

By blocking military authorisation, Russia, China, and France did not endorse Iranian coercion. They simply recognised that war is not a traffic cop. The strait will eventually be reopened—but through negotiation, not naval bombardment. That is not weakness. That is wisdom.

In the cacophony of modern statecraft, few sounds are as refreshing as a blunt European rebuke. French President Emmanuel Macron has delivered exactly that, chastising former President Donald Trump for his erratic handling of Iran policy. “When we’re serious, we don’t say every day the opposite of what we said the day before,” Macron declared. His remedy? “One shouldn’t speak every day.”

It is a simple lesson, but one that the Trump administration consistently failed to learn. The Iran file was a textbook case of performative chaos. One day, threats of “maximum pressure” and military confrontation; the next, hints of negotiation and dealmaking. This whiplash did not make America appear strong—it made Washington appear untrustworthy. In diplomacy, consistency is not a personality trait; it is a strategic asset. When allies and adversaries alike cannot predict what the American president will tweet by noon, the credibility of the entire Western alliance erodes.

Macron’s critique goes deeper than mere style. It speaks to the essence of serious statecraft. The Iran nuclear deal (JCPOA) was not perfect, but it was a verifiable framework painstakingly built over years. Withdrawing from it unilaterally in 2018, without a coherent follow-on strategy, did not prevent war—it accelerated enrichment, empowered hardliners, and brought the region closer to the brink. Macron’s exasperation reflects the exhaustion of European leaders who spent years cleaning up diplomatic debris left by impulsive pronouncements.

The French president’s advice—“one shouldn’t speak every day”—is not a call for secrecy. It is a call for restraint. In an age of 24-hour news cycles and social media dopamine hits, silence has become undervalued. But diplomacy requires space for reflection, back-channels, and the ability to walk back from a red line without losing face. Constant public contradiction forecloses that space.

Macron has done more than criticize a former leader. He has issued a warning to all current and future presidents: bluster is not strategy, and volume is not victory. Sometimes, the most powerful thing a leader can say is nothing at all.

• SAS Kirmani