TEHRAN – Beijing’s growing dependence on Persian Gulf oil and its aspiration to play mediator in the West Asia disputes collide in the narrow waters of the Strait of Hormuz. As more than 40% of China’s crude shipments flow through this chokepoint, how China maneuvers its ambitions without sparking a direct clash has become a vital barometer of its evolving global role.

China’s crude imports makes the Strait a critical artery for its economy and simultaneously, Beijing attempts to cast itself as a neutral broker in regional tensions, seeking to distance itself from U.S.-led security frameworks. 

China’s thirst for oil makes the Strait a linchpin of its national security and any disruption—whether from conflict, sanctions or miscalculation—would ripple through Chinese domestic markets, driving up fuel prices, straining transport networks and squeezing industrial output. Beijing avoids visible military posturing that might provoke countermeasures or escalate tensions, so it opts instead for back-channel diplomacy, infrastructure investment and quiet security cooperation. By sidestepping large-scale naval deployments, China attempts to preserve two critical issues:

China avoids entanglement in regional power struggles, reducing the chance of direct confrontation with the U.S. Navy or other local actors. Beijing maintains credibility with Persian Gulf producers and Tehran alike, ensuring long-term contracts and steady supplies without appearing biased or aggressive. In this way, Beijing leverages economic interdependence as a shield—projecting influence through ports, pipelines and purchase agreements rather than through an overt display of force.

However, Beijing’s restrained approach in the Strait of Hormuz may seem as more of a liability than a stabilizing force. By maintaining a low profile—with limited naval joint exercises, sparse public statements, and a preference for discreet diplomatic channels—China leaves open the question of how far it will go to uphold stability when tensions flare. This hesitation creates uncertainty among Persian Gulf actors about Beijing’s true willingness to step in during a crisis.

China’s reliance on quiet security cooperation and back-channel diplomacy can be read as implicit approval of existing power structures. Persian Gulf states may interpret China’s reluctance to conduct open naval deployments or issue firm public declarations as deference to U.S. leadership in regional security. Such perceptions undermine Beijing’s efforts to present itself as an equal interlocutor capable of rebalancing the Persian Gulf’s strategic environment.

A genuinely robust Chinese partnership in the region would go beyond preferential oil agreements and involve clear deterrence measures. Public commitments to oppose unilateral sanctions or regular joint naval exercises would signal that China intends to share real responsibility for Persian Gulf security. These steps would reassure partners that Beijing stands ready to counter any attempts to impose coercive measures against key regional players. 

By eschewing overt naval deployments and high-visibility deterrence efforts, China risks being viewed as tacitly aligned with the U.S.-led security framework. That perception chips away at its bargaining power, since regional governments may doubt China’s capacity or resolve to protect their interests. In the absence of demonstrable military backing, Beijing’s diplomatic leverage and credibility in the Persian Gulf remain significantly weakened.

Recent flare-ups in the region underscore just how fragile this balance remains. The 12-day war between Iran and Israel—during which Israeli and U.S. forces struck Iran’s military and nuclear sites and Tehran retaliated with volleys of missiles and drones—was the first direct military confrontation of its magnitude. Although that brief conflict has since subsided, the specter of renewed hostilities still looms over the West Asia region.

If the escalation reoccurs a single miscalculation—a stray missile or a botched drone interception—could ignite a much wider conflagration, potentially pulling the United States and its Persian Gulf partners into open combat. In the last escalation, Washington moved swiftly to support Israel and shield its own forces. 

U.S. warships shot down Iranian missiles bound for Israeli targets, while American warplanes coordinated strikes on Iran’s nuclear infrastructure. Those operations relied on a sprawling U.S. footprint in the Persian Gulf: air bases in Qatar and Bahrain, naval squadrons at sea, and forward detachments in Kuwait, the UAE, and Saudi Arabia. 

Meanwhile, Iranian officials and state media have repeatedly warned that any escalation might include closing the Strait of Hormuz. A shutdown—even if brief—would send shockwaves far beyond the petrol pump. Petrochemical plants would scramble for naphtha, driving ethylene prices up. Plastic manufacturers reliant on Persian Gulf-sourced polypropylene would face tight inventories and soaring spot rates. Fertilizer traders in India and Brazil would grapple with delayed ammonia shipments and surging freight costs. And rerouting supertankers around Africa would rack up hefty extra voyage fees—rippling through the entire energy chain. All these clearly effect China and in order for preventing that Beijing must take more practical measures to stop re-ignition of conflict. China’s low-visibility strategy has so far kept tankers moving but now Beijing stands at a crossroads: maintain its cautious posture or back its economic influence with visible deterrence.