What Starmer is actually doing

On the surface, this is a practical response to a practical crisis. The Strait of Hormuz, through which roughly a fifth of the world’s oil and natural gas transits in peacetime, has been effectively closed since the early days of the US–Iran war. Shipping is stranded. Seafarers are trapped. Southeast Asia is running out of energy. Oil has surged past $112 a barrel and shows no sign of coming down.

But Starmer is playing a longer game. By assembling a coalition that excludes both belligerents, the UK is positioning itself as the indispensable diplomatic broker for whatever comes after this war — a role that Britain has not credibly occupied since the Suez crisis demonstrated the limits of post-imperial power in 1956.

The timing is no accident. Trump told the nation this week that the war is “nearing completion” while simultaneously vowing to “hit them extremely hard” for another two weeks. Iran denies requesting a ceasefire while back-channel talks via Pakistani intermediaries reportedly continue. Into this vacuum of contradictions, Starmer has inserted himself — and forty allies.

The domestic calculation

Starmer needs this. His domestic position is precarious. Labour’s poll numbers have cratered. Allies sympathetic to Angela Rayner are openly plotting against him. Diesel is at record highs. MPs just took a five per cent pay rise to £98,599 while the country stares down an energy-driven cost-of-living crisis that makes 2022 look like a warm-up.

The Hormuz coalition gives Starmer something he has desperately lacked since taking office: a defining project that is unambiguously his. He summoned Shell, BP and banking chiefs to Downing Street last week over fuel prices. He banned cryptocurrency donations to political parties in a direct strike at Farage’s Reform UK. And now he is leading a multinational effort to solve the most consequential supply-chain crisis since the Second World War.

What comes next

King Charles is scheduled to make a state visit to Washington to meet Trump as the UK navigates what Downing Street is calling “post-war transatlantic relations” — a phrase that assumes the war will actually end. If it does, Starmer’s coalition could become the framework for a new Hormuz security arrangement. If it doesn’t, it becomes an expensive exercise in diplomatic theatre.

Either way, Starmer has made his bet. Britain’s role in the post-war Middle East order — if there is one — will be shaped by what happens in the meetings that begin next week.