For five weeks, Keir Starmer has walked a diplomatic tightrope — close enough to Washington to preserve NATO, far enough away to avoid being dragged into a war that three-quarters of Britons oppose. On Thursday, he made his boldest move yet: hosting the largest international summit on the Hormuz crisis, positioning Britain as the mediator the world did not know it needed.

The summit

Forty nations sent representatives to the London conference, hosted at Lancaster House. France, Germany, Italy, the Netherlands, Canada, Australia, Japan, India and the United Arab Emirates were among them. The list is notable for its breadth: European allies, Asian energy importers, and Gulf states whose economies are being strangled by the blockade, all sitting in the same room for the first time since the strait was closed.

The joint statement was carefully worded. It “demanded” that Iran cease its attempts to block the strait — language strong enough to make headlines, vague enough to avoid committing anyone to military action. It pledged participants to “contribute to appropriate efforts to ensure safe passage,” a phrase that could mean anything from diplomatic pressure to naval escorts to economic sanctions. Working-level meetings of officials will follow to determine which of these options is pursued.

The absences

The two countries most directly involved in the crisis were not present. Iran was not invited; it would not have attended if it were. The United States declined to participate, reportedly because Washington views the summit as an implicit criticism of its war strategy — which, of course, it is.

The absence of both belligerents is either the summit’s fatal flaw or its greatest asset. Without Iran and America in the room, nothing binding can be agreed. But without them, everyone else can speak freely — and what they said, according to diplomats present, was remarkably blunt. Several European foreign ministers expressed frustration with Washington’s refusal to consider the economic consequences of the war. Gulf representatives described the blockade as an existential threat to their populations. Japan and India — both massive energy importers — called for immediate action.

Starmer’s gamble

The summit is Starmer’s attempt to carve out a role for Britain in a crisis where it has limited leverage. The UK cannot reopen the strait militarily without American support. It cannot force Iran to negotiate. It cannot control the price of oil. What it can do is convene. Britain’s diplomatic infrastructure — its embassies, its relationships, its seat on the Security Council — remains formidable, even as its military power has diminished.

The risk is that convening is all Britain does. If the working-level talks produce no concrete action, the summit will be remembered as a talking shop — forty countries signing a statement that changed nothing. Starmer needs the follow-up to deliver something tangible: a naval escort proposal, a sanctions package, or at minimum a united diplomatic front that gives Tehran a reason to negotiate.

For now, though, the Prime Minister has achieved something real. He has put Britain at the centre of the international response to the war’s most damaging consequence. He has demonstrated that the world can organise without Washington’s permission. And he has given forty countries a forum to say what they all think but none have dared to say publicly: this war must end, and America cannot be the one to decide when.