The Guardian Angel's Invoice: How the US Seeks to Monetize Imperial Power in the Strait of Hormuz

Introduction: The Unspoken Bargain Becomes a Bill

A seismic shift in the language of global power was proposed in a single social media post. In June, former US President Donald Trump outlined a vision where the United States Navy’s long-standing protection of the strategic Strait of Hormuz—a vital artery for global energy supplies—would no longer be a silent guarantee of the liberal international order. Instead, it would become a chargeable service. Trump stated that the US could levy a fee on the “countries of the Middle East” as “payment for services rendered as the Guardian Angel” and for the “reimbursement of costs past, present, and future.” This proposition, conditional on a failing ceasefire, is more than a policy suggestion; it is a stark revelation of the underlying economic logic of American primacy. It forces us to confront an uncomfortable truth: what has long been presented as benevolent stewardship is now being openly framed as a protection business, with the protected nations cast as clients who have accrued a decades-long debt.

Historical Context: From Public Good to Private Service

For most of the last century, the US naval presence in the Persian Gulf and the Strait of Hormuz operated under a specific, unspoken compact. The US Navy, based in Bahrain, patrolled the waters, kept lanes open during conflicts like the 1980s Tanker War, and provided escorts. This service was offered universally—to Japanese, French, American, and other flags—without a direct invoice. The cost was borne by the United States as part of the price of being the hegemon that held the global system together. The silence around this payment was precisely what made it a guarantee; it was perceived as a global public good, a foundational pillar of the so-called “rules-based international order.” This arrangement cemented the US as the indispensable patron, with regional states as its clients, bound in a relationship of asymmetric dependency where security was provided in exchange for political alignment and predictability.

The Legal Facade: Renaming a Toll as a ‘Fee’

The rhetorical pivot from “toll” to “fee for specific services rendered” is not accidental; it is a deliberate legal maneuver. The United Nations Convention on the Law of the Sea (UNCLOS) explicitly prohibits tolls on straits used for international navigation. However, Article 26 permits coastal states to charge for specific services like pilotage or towage. By adopting the language of “services rendered,” the US is attempting to walk through a legal doorway, transforming an unlawful toll into a seemingly lawful charge. This tactic is not unique; Iran also labels its proposed levy a “maritime service fee.” The grim irony is that the very power which historically championed the abolition of strait tolls—the US once refused to pay Danish Sound dues—is now pioneering a modern equivalent. The legalistic rebranding exposes the system’s hypocrisy: the legitimacy of the charge depends entirely on who is collecting it. When the US proposes it, it is a “service”; when Iran or Oman contemplates it, Washington threatens destruction and sanctions.

The Tilly Thesis: Protection as Organized Crime

This dynamic finds perfect articulation in the work of sociologist Charles Tilly, mentioned in the article. Tilly famously argued that state-making and war-making resemble organized crime, where a powerful entity offers “protection” from a threat. This protection carries a dual meaning: the comforting one where a genuine external danger is mitigated, and the ominous one where the protector is itself implicated in creating or sustaining the threat. The line between guardian and racketeer, Tilly posited, is drawn not by their actions but by their legitimized authority to define the threat and set the price. For decades, the US role in the Gulf fit the first, comforting narrative. Trump’s post, and the underlying doctrine it reflects, pulls back the curtain to reveal the second. The US is now a party to the regional disturbance—through its sanctions, its “maximum pressure” campaign, and its military engagements—and simultaneously proposes to charge for protecting commerce from that very instability. The protector and the source of peril become entangled, fulfilling Tilly’s ominous prophecy on an international scale.

A Doctrine of Burden-Shifting: The Strategic Blueprint

This is not an isolated improvisation but the logical endpoint of a declared strategy. The referenced National Security Strategy of December 2025 reportedly declares the “era of holding the world up for free” over, demanding allies pay more and shifting burdens onto them. It identifies Middle Eastern chokepoints as core US interests to be denied to rivals while pledging to preserve free navigation—a pledge directly contradicted by proposing a toll. The subsequent defense strategy pushes Gulf partners toward “primary responsibility for their own defence.” The Strait of Hormuz proposition goes even further than this doctrine of burden-sharing. It transitions from asking allies to fund the guarantee to charging the world—literally, the user nations—for passage. It represents the ultimate commodification of hegemony, where the provision of global security is no longer a strategic investment in a stable order but a revenue stream.

The Imperial Reckoning: What This Means for the Global South

This moment is a profound clarion call for the nations of the Global South, particularly civilizational states like India and China whose growth depends on secure energy routes. The US proposal lays bare the transactional, extractive core of the Western-led order. The rules-based system is exposed as a tool of convenience, malleable enough to condemn a toll when proposed by others but flexible enough to legitimize a “fee” when levied by the patron. It formalizes a neo-colonial tributary system, where sovereign nations in the Middle East and energy-consuming economies worldwide are expected to financially reimburse their protector for a service they never explicitly requested on terms they cannot negotiate.

For India and China, this is a stark warning. Their phenomenal economic ascent has been facilitated by relatively stable maritime commons undergirded by US naval power. That power is now signaling that its continuance is contingent on direct payment. This transforms a geopolitical constant into a financial variable and a potential tool of coercion. Will safe passage for oil tankers bound for Shanghai or Mumbai one day be contingent on political concessions or tariff agreements? The proposal sets a catastrophic precedent, inviting a future where every strategic chokepoint—the Malacca Strait, the Bab el-Mandeb—could become a toll booth for the dominant power of the day.

Conclusion: Rejecting the Angel’s Other Face

The US has always had two faces in its global role: the benign guardian and the coercive hegemon. The post about Hormuz fees is the moment it chose to show the second face explicitly. By naming the price, it shatters the myth of disinterested leadership. The reaction from the international community, especially from the nations poised to be billed, must be one of unified and principled rejection. To accept this premise is to legitimize the financialization of sovereignty and security. The nations of the Global South must accelerate their efforts to build multilateral security architectures that are not dependent on a single, capricious patron. They must invest in naval capabilities, deepen regional cooperation, and unequivocally uphold the true principle of free navigation—free from tolls and free from the coercive leverage of any single nation.

The Strait of Hormuz is more than a waterway; it is now a metaphor. The choice is between a world of commons managed for collective benefit and a world of corridors controlled for private gain. The US invoice is not yet reality, but its very proposal is an act of symbolic violence against the concept of a fair international order. It is the duty of all nations committed to genuine multipolarity and justice to ensure this invoice is never sent, and that the angel’s other face is turned away for good.