Could the escalation in the Middle East trigger a structural shift in global maritime trade?
Below are ten analytical pieces, each representing a distinct school of thought in the current geopolitical literature on maritime security. The arguments presented reflect current positions debated within the strategic analysis community, in light of the situation in the Red Sea, the Iran-U.S./Israel war in the spring of 2026, pressure on the Strait of Hormuz, and recent incidents involving undersea cables in the Baltic Sea.
What distinguishes the current phase from previous maritime crises is the simultaneous and interconnected nature of the vulnerabilities. In the past, disruptions typically affected a single corridor or a single category of strategic infrastructure. Today, pressures on the Red Sea, risks regarding the Strait of Hormuz, sabotage of submarine cables in the Baltic Sea, and competition for control of global logistics infrastructure together form a system of cumulative instability.
This convergence fundamentally alters the relationship between security and the economy. While in the post-Cold War era global trade was built on the assumption of logistical continuity, the current phase introduces the idea that disruption must be treated as a permanent probability, not as a temporary exception.
Consequently, we are witnessing a major conceptual shift: economic efficiency ceases to be the exclusive objective of globalization, being gradually replaced by the logic of strategic resilience.
1. A. M. — naval analyst (sea power perspective)
Question 1. We are witnessing a structural transformation, not a temporary disruption. The model of global maritime trade over the past three decades has been based on an implicit Mahanian assumption: a single great naval power, the United States, guarantees freedom of the seas for all users at no cost. This “public good” is eroding. Houthi attacks, the partial U.S. blockade of the Strait of Hormuz in 2026, recurring damage to Baltic cables, and the presence of the Russian “shadow” fleet demonstrate that strategic routes can no longer be taken for granted—they must be defended, contested, and negotiated. What matters is not whether ships still transit through Bab el-Mandeb today, but the fact that corporate decisions over five- to ten-year horizons—chartering contracts, fleet configuration, hub selection—already incorporate an assumption of permanent risk. CMA CGM is testing the Suez route, Maersk prefers the Cape of Good Hope, and this Cape routing is becoming “normalized” at the operational level. Companies are redesigning logistics networks not for a single winter, but for a decade. More seriously, the very logic of chokepoints has been reversed: what was once a vital artery has become a strategic vulnerability. We will see a reconfiguration in three directions: geographic redundancy (Cape, Arctic polar routes, Eurasian land corridors), regionalization of production (nearshoring, friend-shoring), and the “balkanization” of energy flows. It is not the end of globalization, but it is the end of globalization as we once thought it was secure. The return of geography to economic calculations means that the oceans are once again becoming a contested strategic space, not a neutral highway.
Question 2. Strengthening naval presence is necessary, but absolutely insufficient. Operation EUNAVFOR Aspides and the Combined Maritime Forces have demonstrated a structural limitation: it costs $30,000 per hour for a frigate to intercept a $2,000 Houthi drone. This asymmetric arithmetic cannot be overcome by conventional presence. The future architecture must be “layered” across five levels: deterrence through detection (MDA—maritime domain awareness—based on commercial satellites, AI, and data fusion), active defense with lasers and low-cost interceptors, preemptive strikes on coastal launch pads, port infrastructure resilience, and, crucially, a political counter-narrative to delegitimize non-state actors. Existing interstate cooperation suffers from fragmentation: NATO has the CUI Cell for cables, the EU has Aspides, the U.S. leads the CMF, and India operates independently in the Indian Ocean. We need a “Maritime Five Eyes”-type mechanism—not a new organization, but a distributed data-sharing and command-and-control infrastructure. The private sector must be formally integrated: shipowners, port operators, and cable companies hold most of the relevant information. The Baltic Sentry model—in which commercial satellite imagery firms provide data to NATO—should be expanded. Without this civil-military integration and without a common doctrine for responding to sub-threshold attacks, we will continue to react on a crisis-by-crisis basis, paying the price of failed deterrence.
The sea power perspective highlights a crucial historical transformation: the return of the sea as an explicit arena of geopolitical competition. For decades, the oceans were perceived primarily as the neutral infrastructure of globalization. Today, however, control of maritime routes, the protection of chokepoints, and the security of undersea infrastructure are once again central elements of the balance of power.
In this context, Alfred Thayer Mahan’s classic theory takes on unexpected relevance. Naval power no longer means merely the ability to win naval battles, but the ability to maintain the functionality of the global economic system in a contested environment.
At the same time, the current phase marks a significant shift: non-state actors and low-cost technologies can disproportionately influence systemic stability. This democratization of strategic disruption represents one of the most important changes in contemporary maritime security.
2. Prof. E. V. — Economist of Global Supply Chains
Question 1. The reconfiguration is already underway, and a significant part of it will be irreversible, regardless of what happens with the Houthis or the Strait of Hormuz. Data from Xeneta and Drewry show that rerouting via the Cape of Good Hope has added 10–14 days to the Asia–Europe cycle, which means that shipowners have invested in additional capacity (vessels, containers) tailored to this longer route. A massive return to the Suez would generate overcapacity that would cause rates to plummet by up to 25%, according to estimates published at the end of 2025. No one in the industry wants this abrupt transition. More profoundly, the pandemic, the war in Ukraine, and the Red Sea crisis have taught operations managers a lesson they will not forget: pure just-in-time was an illusion subsidized by geopolitical stability. We see three structural trends: a doubling or tripling of buffer inventory for critical components, deliberate diversification of suppliers along geopolitical axes (“China+1,” “China+N” policies), and the emergence of new logistics hubs—Tanger Med, Duqm, Mombasa, Indian ports on the west coast—which are fragmenting what was a Suez/Singapore-centered hub-and-spoke system. The cost of this resilience is real: McKinsey estimates indicate a 3–5% increase in operational costs across reconfigured supply chains. Companies accept this cost because the alternative—production shutdowns—is catastrophic. In the long term, this means globalization that is more expensive, slower, but also more robust. Traditional corridors are not disappearing; however, they are losing their “default” status.
Question 2. Traditional maritime security was conceived as a military service provided to commerce. This division no longer works, because current risks—cyber threats, secondary sanctions, AIS manipulation, cable sabotage, drone attacks, and extraterritorial regulations like those of OFAC—cross the boundary between state and market. We need an architecture that treats global trade as critical infrastructure, similar to electrical or financial networks. Specifically: a mandatory incident reporting framework (the SOLAS model amended in 2026 for lost containers is a tentative start), minimum cybersecurity standards for onboard systems and ports, public “backstop” mechanisms for war risk in insurance—without which some routes become uninsurable, and thus effectively closed. Coordination with the private sector must be institutionalized: every major port should have a Maritime Security Operations Center with a hybrid public-private mandate. Technology is an essential enabler: AI for detecting abnormal transit patterns, digital twins of ports for crisis simulation, and blockchain for document verification. But technology alone creates new vulnerabilities. True resilience comes from economic redundancy: the ability to switch quickly between routes, suppliers, and modes of transport. This requires states to accept planned inefficiency—strategic stockpiles, surplus port capacity, redundant fleets—as the price of systemic survival. The current model, in which operational efficiency has maximized fragility, must be reversed. Resilience is expensive, but crisis is more expensive. The economic dimension reveals a profound transformation of global corporate culture. Whereas before the pandemic and the current maritime crises, maximum efficiency and cost reduction almost exclusively dominated supply chain logic, the new strategic context is driving companies to accept additional costs to reduce systemic vulnerability.
This shift is significant because it indicates that the reconfiguration is not merely reactive but is beginning to be internalized as operational normality. Companies no longer treat maritime security as an external variable managed exclusively by states, but as a structural factor of their own business model.
Consequently, the boundary between economic strategy and security strategy is becoming increasingly blurred.
3. M. H. — Analyst – School of Great Power Competition
Question 1. We are at the beginning of a transition in maritime power, comparable to the shift from British to American hegemony in the first half of the 20th century. The Houthis are the symptom, not the cause. The cause is the disappearance of a consensus among the great powers regarding freedom of navigation as a universal norm. When Russia and China abstain or veto Security Council resolutions regarding the Red Sea—or when OFAC reports that the Houthis are ensuring safe passage for Russian and Chinese ships—we see how maritime legal norms become the subject of geopolitical competition. Iran, Russia, and China have learned that they can delegate pressure on the maritime order to non-state actors, maintaining “deniability” and imposing costs on the West without the risk of direct confrontation. This “proxying” of maritime security is structural. The reconfiguration of supply chains reflects this landscape: Chinese companies are investing heavily in the “Polar Silk Road” through the Arctic, in Eurasian rail corridors, and in BRI ports in Pakistan (Gwadar) and Iran (Chabahar). India is building IMEC and investing in Chabahar and Sittwe. The United States and its allies are regaining a foothold in the Philippines, Subic Bay, and Lombrum. We are witnessing a “bipolarization” of global maritime infrastructure, in which firms choose corridors aligned with political blocs. Dependence on traditional corridors will not disappear, but it will be supplemented by “sovereign” corridors, controlled ideologically. Global trade remains, but it is losing its neutrality. The next decade will validate or refute a major hypothesis: can interconnected trade coexist with systemic rivalry, or will the geo-economy impose a progressive decoupling?
Question 2. The realistic answer is grim: there is no possible universal architecture in a fragmented world. The claim that we can reform the IMO or expand UNCLOS to include hybrid threats ignores the fact that systemic adversaries will not cooperate on their own terms. What we can build is a “tiered” architecture based on three concentric circles. The first circle—the coalition of close allies: NATO, the Quad, AUKUS, and NATO’s Asia-Pacific partners. Here we have real coordination: classified sharing of MDA, joint exercises, compatible doctrines. The second circle—functional partners: states such as India, Vietnam, Indonesia, Saudi Arabia, and the UAE, which do not wish to fully align themselves, but have an interest in the stability of their own routes. With these, we pursue limited technical agreements: communication protocols, HADR exercises, port partnerships. The third circle — managing adversaries: not cooperation, but establishing “red lines” and de-escalation mechanisms, the US-China hotline model extended to maritime incidents. The private sector is integrated asymmetrically: in the first circle, a formalized public-private partnership (the Baltic Sentry model with commercial satellite firms); in the second circle, informal dialogue; in the third circle, minimum rules to avoid catastrophes. Technology—anti-drone, distributed ISR, predictive AI—is a force multiplier, but it does not replace political power. The key mechanism missing today is one for imposing costs: actors who attack critical infrastructure must face asymmetric and predictable consequences. Without credible deterrence, no architecture works. Cooperation without the power to sanction is ritual, not security.
An additional element worth highlighting is that global maritime infrastructure is increasingly becoming part of the competition for systemic influence. Ports, trade corridors, undersea cables, and logistics hubs are no longer mere economic tools, but components of geopolitical power.
This transformation is producing a potential “strategic fragmentation” of globalization, in which states and companies are pushed to choose between logistics and technological ecosystems associated with different power blocs.
If this trend continues, global trade will not disappear, but it may lose the universal and relatively neutral character that defined the post-1990 period.
4. S. O. — liberal analyst (institutional school)
Question 1. The characterization as a “structural transformation” is partially correct, but it contains an analytical trap: if we accept fragmentation as destiny, we become the architects of our own prophecy. Global maritime trade has withstood major shocks—the closure of the Suez Canal from 1967 to 1975, the Iran-Iraq blockade during the Tanker War, and the Somali crisis. Each time, international institutions, though imperfect, absorbed the shock. What we see today is not the end of the liberal maritime order, but its stress at maximum tension. UNCLOS remains ratified by 169 states, the IMO is functioning, and the ITU coordinates submarine cables. Companies are reconfiguring supply chains because they can—because there are still minimum rules, enforceable contracts, and arbitration mechanisms. In the long term, however, this reconfiguration will be real and beneficial if we manage it. Diversifying corridors—IMEC, Cape, Arctic, trans-Caspian routes—is not balkanization; it is resilient redundancy. The real challenge does not come from the Houthis or Iran, but from the erosion of norms of economic non-aggression, particularly the use of secondary sanctions as a weapon, the weaponization of SWIFT, and “de facto” blockades justified by ad-hoc doctrines. If we allow these practices to proliferate without a common legal framework, then yes, we will see balkanization. But if we reform maritime governance to include hybrid threats, we can withstand them. Smart companies do not bet on the collapse of the order; they bet on its adaptation. Dependence on traditional corridors will decline, but it will not be replaced by isolation—rather, by a multi-corridor architecture in which Suez remains one of many, not the only one.
Question 2. The question itself constructs a false dichotomy. It is not a matter of “more of the same” or a “new approach,” but of overlapping layers that support one another. The foundation remains: UNCLOS, IMO, ITU, ICPC. On this foundation, we need a new “framework treaty for the security of critical maritime infrastructure”—one that codifies obligations regarding submarine cables, pipelines, smart ports, AIS, and GNSS systems. The model would be the 1884 Convention for the Protection of Submarine Cables, modernized for the hybrid era. The second layer: sector-specific regimes. The Cable Resilience Initiative, launched by the ITU and ICPC in 2024, is a prototype; it must be expanded to include minimum monitoring standards, a “repair-ready” obligation, and a global fund for repairs. The third layer: regional cooperation with an operational mandate—Aspides in the Red Sea, CMF in the Gulf, the Indo-Pacific Maritime Domain Awareness Initiative, and Nordic Warden in the Baltic. These should not be consolidated into a single organization; they must be federated through interoperability protocols. The fourth layer: a formalized public-private partnership. The shipping, insurance, and telecommunications industries possess data and capabilities that exceed state resources. The Cyber Threat Alliance model, adapted for the maritime sector, would be a starting point. Finally, attribution and accountability mechanisms: without the ability to identify the perpetrators of sub-threshold attacks and impose proportionate costs on them, no framework works. Reform is not an alternative to existing cooperation—it is the deepening of that cooperation to a level where it can address new threats.
5. R. K. — Energy Security Analyst
Question 1. From the perspective of energy flows, we are witnessing a profound reconfiguration that goes beyond the immediate issue of the Red Sea. Approximately 12% of global oil and 8% of LNG transited through Bab el-Mandeb before the crisis; the Strait of Hormuz continues to carry about 20% of the world’s oil. The fact that both are simultaneously under pressure in 2026 is unprecedented in the post-1973 era. The market’s reaction is quiet but profound: new LNG contracts are being negotiated with expanded “force majeure” clauses, marine risk premiums for oil tankers have stabilized at levels 5–7 times above the pre-2023 average, and Saudi Arabia has accelerated the east-west pipeline to Yanbu, bypassing Hormuz. Russia has redirected its flows to Asia via a “shadow fleet,” a parallel system that erodes the sanctions regime. The UAE has invested in offshore terminals at Fujairah. These changes will not be reversed, as they reflect lasting lessons: there is no “too-big-to-disrupt” in energy transportation. In the long term, we see three structural reconfigurations: the vertical integration of energy flows with political blocs—Russian oil flows to China and India, the Gulf pivots toward Asia but diversifies its customers; the expansion of “bypass” infrastructure—pipelines, conduits, and terminals that reduce dependence on chokepoints; and the acceleration of the transition to geographically less vulnerable sources—renewable energy, hydrogen, modular nuclear. Hydrocarbon trade will remain global, but it will no longer be the idealized “fluid market.” It will be a mosaic of political-commercial corridors.
Question 2. Maritime security for energy infrastructure requires an integrated architecture, not just a naval component. Subsea pipelines, cross-border power cables, LNG terminals, strategic storage facilities, and coastal refineries—all are legitimate targets in the logic of hybrid adversaries. The current model, in which each state defends its own critical infrastructure, is insufficient for a global network. I propose three directions. First: a NATO-Plus framework for the protection of maritime energy infrastructure, similar to the Critical Undersea Infrastructure Cell, but with a mandate extended to pipelines and terminals, and with the participation of cooperating producer states (Norway, UAE, Saudi Arabia, Australia). Second: the integration of Maritime Domain Awareness with critical infrastructure monitoring—satellites, underwater drones, hydrophones, and AI for anomaly detection. Here, the private sector is indispensable; oil companies and cable operators possess superior data compared to governments. Third: geographically and logistically diversified strategic reserves. The current IEA 90-day stockpiles were designed for supply shocks, not for transport blockages. We need redundant port capacity, tanker fleets available for rapid rerouting, and energy “mutual assistance” protocols among allies. The technology warrants massive investment: autonomous underwater drones for cable/pipeline patrols, anti-mine systems, and quantum-resistant encryption for port SCADA control systems. Ultimately, however, credible deterrence remains the central pillar: without the perception that an attack on energy infrastructure entails unacceptable costs, all defensive measures become mere palliatives. Resilience without deterrence is like insurance without a police force.
6. Y. T. — Specialist in hybrid threats and cyber warfare
Question 1. The “maritime trade” framework is becoming inadequate. What we are experiencing is a comprehensive hybrid offensive against interconnected global infrastructure, in which the sea surface is just one of the frontiers. Houthi attacks with drones and anti-ship missiles, damage to Baltic cables attributed to the Russian “shadow” fleet or Chinese merchant ships, cyber intrusions into port systems, and AIS manipulations that allow sanctioned ships to operate under false identities—all of these form a single pattern: systemic competitors and allied non-state actors have learned that integrated global infrastructure is simultaneously an economic multiplier and a strategic vulnerability. The long-term reconfiguration will be not only geographical but also topological. Supply chains will attempt to become less observable, less traceable—using multiple transit ports, multiple modes, multiple jurisdictions—to complicate adversarial targeting. We will see the emergence of “dark logistics”: opaque logistics archipelagos, running parallel to the transparent ones. Companies that have treated cyber and maritime as separate silos will discover they can no longer do so. Dependence on traditional corridors does not disappear by economic choice, but through the impossibility of obtaining insurance. Lloyd’s and the reinsurance markets are already modeling cyber-kinetic scenarios—such as ransomware that locks down a major port coinciding with a physical attack—and prices reflect this reality. In the long term, companies will divide their portfolios between “high-trust routes” (intra-block, heavily monitored) and “low-trust routes” (cross-block, non-essential cargo). The global system will segment not through political decision, but through the accumulation of risk-guided microeconomic decisions.
Question 2. The necessary architecture is fundamentally technological, but not merely in the sense of gadgets. It requires institutional reorganization around three principles: visibility, attribution, and response. Visibility means data fusion on an unprecedented scale: commercial optical and SAR satellites, verified AIS, underwater acoustic signals, fiber-optic cable as a sensor (DAS—distributed acoustic sensing), port data, and financial flows. AI models must be trained on this fusion to detect anomalies—a ship that has turned off its AIS at certain coordinates has a high probability of being part of a “dark fleet.” Attribution requires maritime forensic capabilities: analysis of operational patterns, drone and missile signatures, and cyber traces. A SolarWinds-style attribution model adapted for the maritime domain. The response requires graduated tools: from targeted sanctions, to denial of port access, to limited kinetic operations. Existing interstate cooperation suffers from “siloing”: Aspides does not integrate well with Baltic Sentry, and CMF does not coordinate with the Quad. We need a “Maritime Threat Intelligence Sharing Hub” with public-private participation, an expanded version of the NATO MARCOM model. The private sector—shipowners, insurers, cable operators, telecommunications companies—holds most of the relevant data. The current legal framework hinders sharing (GDPR, trade secrets); we need regulated “safe harbors.” Technology alone is not the solution: adversaries adapt quickly. But without a technological leap, we are left with a century’s worth of insufficient strategic tools—ships and diplomats—to counter a threat calibrated on a digital scale.
The prospect of hybrid threats highlights perhaps the most significant conceptual shift of our time: the disappearance of clear boundaries between peace and conflict.
In the contemporary maritime domain, hostile actors can produce significant strategic effects without formally declaring war. Cable sabotage, AIS manipulation, cyber operations against ports, or the use of maritime drones allow pressure to be exerted in a legal and political gray zone.
This ambiguity profoundly complicates response mechanisms. States must decide whether to treat incidents as crime, terrorism, sabotage, or an inter-state hostile act, and this uncertainty can delay the response and weaken deterrence.
Consequently, modern maritime security becomes inseparable from intelligence, cybersecurity, and rapid attribution capabilities.
7. A. K. — Indo-Pacific Specialist and Inter-State Competition
Question 1. The Red Sea is the visible theater; the real test is the Indo-Pacific. If we accept that an armed group from a poor country can paralyze 12% of global trade for two years, what conclusion does Beijing draw about the vulnerability of its adversaries in the Taiwan Strait, the South China Sea, or the Strait of Malacca? The long-term reconfiguration will be broader than the discussion on Suez suggests. India is accelerating the IMEC (India-Middle East-Europe Economic Corridor) precisely to offer an alternative route that bypasses Bab el-Mandeb and Hormuz—overland through the Gulf, by sea through the eastern Mediterranean. Japan is investing in the resilience of LNG routes with Australian and American sources. South Korea is diversifying via the Cape of Good Hope. The rise of maritime “mini-lateralisms” (Quad, AUKUS, the U.S.-Japan-Australia-Philippines Squad) reflects the reality that major Asian powers are building their own security architectures and no longer rely on universal U.S. protection. For companies, the lesson is clear: maritime routes now follow political alignment. A Japanese or South Korean company will prefer ports in “like-minded” countries, even at an additional cost. In the long term, we will see the consolidation of a “democratic maritime core”—Quad+EU+NATO Asia-Pacific partners—and a parallel Sino-Russian core with partners (Iran, Pakistan, BRI Africa). Trade between these blocs continues, but with increasing mediation: neutral economic zones, transit hubs (Singapore, UAE), and “Chinese wall”-style regulations for sensitive data.
Question 2. The architecture required for the Indo-Pacific calls for a different model than the Atlantic. NATO works because it has few, homogeneous members facing an obvious common threat. The Asia-Pacific has over 30 states with divergent interests: ASEAN members adhering to a centrality doctrine, and India pursuing strategic autonomy. The realistic model is a “network of networks”: the Quad for maritime technology and domain awareness, AUKUS for underwater capabilities, the Squad for the South China Sea, Indo-Pacific Maritime Domain Awareness for data sharing, and ITU-ICPC partnerships for cables. These networks must become interoperable, not merge. Necessary addition: the formal inclusion of India and South Korea in transatlantic architectures, and of the EU in Indo-Pacific ones (the EU-Indo-Pacific Strategy 2021 must be operationally implemented). For the security of critical infrastructure—cables, pipelines, ports—we propose an “Indo-Pacific Critical Infrastructure Compact” with protection standards, rapid repair mechanisms (joint cable-laying fleet), and allocation protocols. The Asian private sector—Mitsui, NYK, Maersk, MSC, COSCO (the problem!)—must be selectively integrated: cooperation with allied firms on MDA, but also “de-risking” mechanisms against those controlled by the adversary state. Technology—AI, underwater drones, quantum communications—requires multilateral coordination for standards and interoperability. Fundamentally, without credible deterrence against Beijing—a demonstrated ability to impose economic and military costs in the event of aggression against Taiwan—the entire global maritime architecture remains fragile. The Indo-Pacific is not a distant flank; it is the center.
8. H. L. — European and NATO Strategist
Question 1. For Europe, the situation is existential. No major continent is as dependent on a single maritime corridor as Europe is on Suez. Approximately 30% of global container traffic and a similar share of European oil and LNG imports transited through Bab el-Mandeb. The Cape of Good Hope has absorbed the rerouting, but it adds 10–14 days, higher costs, and increased emissions—and leaves Europe vulnerable to a South Africa with its own political fragilities. Simultaneously, the northern flank faces cable sabotage in the Baltic Sea, attacks on power lines between Nordic countries, and drones over major European airports. We are talking about a siege on two of Europe’s maritime fronts. Structural reconfiguration is inevitable. The EU is accelerating “strategic autonomy”—Aspides, the Critical Raw Materials Act, the Net-Zero Industry Act—all of which include supply chain resilience components. European companies are investing in nearshoring (Morocco, Tunisia, Turkey, the Western Balkans), domestic industrial revitalization, and logistical redundancy via Mediterranean ports (Tangier Med, Algeciras, Piraeus) and Nordic ports (Rotterdam, Hamburg). Dependence on Asian corridors is not disappearing, but is being supplemented by alternative corridors: rail through Central Asia bypassing Russia, IMEC, and Arctic routes when operational. In the long term, Europe is developing its own economic security doctrine, marking the end of the assumption that European prosperity is compatible with strategic indifference. This is a turning point comparable to 1989 or 2022—not just politically, but industrially and logistically.
Question 2. The European response requires a three-pronged architecture: NATO for military deterrence, the EU for economic and industrial resilience, and partnerships with coastal states for operational outreach. NATO already has the Critical Undersea Infrastructure Cell, the Maritime Centre for the Security of Critical Undersea Infrastructure at Northwood, and the Baltic Sentry and Nordic Warden exercises. These must be scaled up with permanent resources: a dedicated naval force for cable/pipeline patrols, underwater capabilities (drones, specialized submarines), and rapid repair capacity (the EU and member states possess only a few cable-laying vessels, which is insufficient). The EU complements these with civilian instruments: the Action Plan on Cable Security, Regional Cable Hubs funded through Digital Europe, PESCO Maritime Surveillance, and the Critical Entities Resilience Directive. Essential: member states must map and classify critical maritime infrastructure, impose minimum protection standards on private operators, and establish rapid mechanisms for financing repairs. External partnerships—Egypt for the Suez Canal, Morocco for the Strait of Gibraltar, Turkey for the Bosphorus, Gulf states for the Strait of Hormuz, India for the Indian Ocean—must be strengthened through operational agreements, not just declarations. The European private sector—shipowners (CMA CGM, Maersk for Denmark, Hapag-Lloyd), telecommunications operators (Orange, Telxius, Sparkle cables), ports—must be formally integrated through a “Maritime Security Compact” with mutual obligations: the state provides protection and a backstop against the risk of war, while the private sector provides data and capabilities. Without this pact, we will face internal fragmentation alongside external fragmentation.
For Europe, the implications go beyond the strictly military dimension. The current crisis is forcing the continent to rethink the relationship between prosperity and strategic dependence.
For decades, the European model has assumed relatively secure access to global markets, energy, and extensive logistics chains, without the need for a commensurate maritime projection of power. Recent developments, however, show that economic interdependence without the capacity for protection generates vulnerability.
In this sense, the current phase may mark the beginning of a new European economic security doctrine, in which critical infrastructure, maritime corridors, and logistical resilience become components of strategic security in the broadest sense.
9. D. C. — Risk Analyst (private sector perspective)
Question 1. From an underwriting perspective, the question of “temporary or structural” has already been answered by the market—and the answer is structural. The actuarial models of Lloyd’s, the JCC, and the Hull Risk Committee have continuously reassessed the risk for entire regions: the Red Sea, the Persian Gulf, the Black Sea, and certain West African ports. War premiums (Joint War Committee Listed Areas) are now included almost automatically; base rates for Suez transit have stabilized at 0.4–0.7% of the vessel’s value, up from 0.02% prior to 2023. These are not “temporary” prices—they reflect a fundamental reassessment of event probability, calibrated over two years of data. The reinsurance market followed suit: 1/1 contracts for 2024, 2025, and 2026 included new exclusions for drone attacks, sabotage of subsea infrastructure, and cyber-kinetic events. Shipping companies responded predictably: longer charter contracts for Cape routes, investments in fleet resilience, and currency and fuel hedging for extended voyages. These decisions lock up capital for 5–10 years—meaning the reconfiguration is already frozen into the industry’s structure. In the long term, we see three trends: the bifurcation of insurance markets (high-trust and high-risk, with diverging premiums), the emergence of specialized markets (parametric insurance for chokepoint closures), and increased demand for state guarantees (the post-9/11 terrorism pools model extended to hybrid maritime risks). Companies that still treat these developments as a “temporary crisis” will be caught off guard. The risk industries are already treating it as the new normal.
Question 2. The private sector has a clear message for policymakers: maritime security without a risk-sharing framework is financially unsustainable. Three reforms are urgent. First: a public backstop for war risk in critical areas. The U.S. TRIA (Terrorism Risk Insurance Act) or British Pool Re model, adapted for the maritime sector. Without this, certain routes become uninsurable, which amounts to an economic shutdown. Second: standardized frameworks for incident reporting and data sharing. Today, every shipowner, every port, and every cable company reports differently, in different databases, with varying levels of detail. We need a mandatory “Maritime Cyber Incident Reporting Standard,” with a central aggregator (similar to the Cyber Threat Alliance for cyber). Third: minimum security standards, enforced through insurance conditions. If Lloyd’s and major markets impose requirements (nautical cybersecurity, GNSS redundancy, port-side monitoring) as a precondition for underwriting, compliance becomes universal, without complicated state regulation. Existing interstate cooperation—Aspides, CMF, NATO MARCOM—is appreciated but incomplete. There is no “escort on demand” mechanism—the ability for a company to request and receive naval protection for critical transit, with shared costs. There is also no framework for rapid repair of cables (pre-positioned international fleet), ports (mobile equipment), and damaged vessels (coordinated salvage capabilities). Technology—predictive AI for routing, geofencing, commercial satellite monitoring—is being rapidly adopted by the industry; but without integration with state capabilities, it remains defensive. We need a true public-private partnership, legally codified and sustainably funded.
10. F. D. — Geopolitician of the Global South
Question 1. The discussion is dominated by a transatlantic perspective, but the structural transformation of maritime trade has major implications for the Global South that are missing from the narrative. For Egypt, the collapse of Suez transit fee revenues by over 60% in 2024–2025 represents a severe fiscal crisis, with implications for internal stability in a country of 110 million people. For Djibouti, Eritrea, Somalia, and Sudan—economies that depended on port services, bunkering, and logistics—the loss of volume means recession. At the same time, other economies are gaining: South African ports (Durban, Cape Town) are absorbing rerouted traffic; Morocco (Tanger Med) is becoming a Mediterranean hub; India is accelerating its maritime ambitions; Tanzania (Dar es Salaam, Bagamoyo) is attracting investment; Brazil (Açu) is benefiting from alternative routes. In the long term, we are witnessing a reorganization of global trade geography that is neither “decoupling” nor “maintenance,” but rather redistribution. For Africa, in particular, the Red Sea crisis is a strategic opportunity: AfCFTA integration is becoming urgent, port infrastructure is a top investment priority, and major powers (China through the BRI, the U.S. through the Lobito Corridor, the EU through the Global Gateway) are competing for African partnerships. Dependence on traditional corridors was itself an asymmetrical relationship, in which added value flowed to Singapore, Rotterdam, and Shanghai. This reconfiguration creates an opening toward a more balanced distribution—if the states of the Global South manage it in a coordinated manner, rather than individually. This is a transition that can generate both devastating losses and positive historical transformations, depending on the capacity for strategic agency.
Question 2. The global maritime security architecture has historically been constructed to exclude those it affects most. The 90+ members of ASEAN, Africa, and Latin America are not part of NATO, the Quad, AUKUS, or the Combined Maritime Forces in decision-making roles, even though their territorial waters and economies are directly exposed. A functional architecture in the 21st century cannot be built without the effective participation of the Global South, not merely as beneficiaries, but as architects. Four priorities: first, substantial reform of the IMO with stronger representation of flag states and small coastal nations, particularly regarding standards on “flags of convenience,” “shadow fleets,” and AIS abuse. Second, funding maritime capacity in Southern countries—coast guard capabilities, regional MDA, resilient port infrastructure—through IFI instruments (World Bank, AfDB, AIIB) and bilateral partnerships. The IORA (Indian Ocean Rim Association) model, the African Maritime Strategy 2050, and the ASEAN Maritime Forum must be strengthened, not marginalized. Third, the inclusion of African and Asian states in operational coalitions: India already participates in Aspides; South Africa, Kenya, and Nigeria should be integrated into the security architecture of the Cape routes. Fourth, avoiding the “proxy war”ization of maritime security: pressures to align with blocs force small states into costly choices. The “strategic non-alignment” model—as exemplified by India, Vietnam, Indonesia, and Brazil—must be respected, not criticized. Technology must be democratized: the Global South cannot depend exclusively on Western commercial satellite data. Real maritime security requires legitimacy, and legitimacy requires inclusion.
Taken together, these ten perspectives suggest that the global maritime system is undergoing not merely a period of instability, but a historic transition.
The maritime order of late globalization was built on several fundamental premises: the relatively secure freedom of navigation, the neutrality of major trade corridors, and the ability of great powers to maintain a minimum consensus on global infrastructure. All of these premises are now being challenged simultaneously.
In this context, the stakes no longer concern exclusively the protection of trade routes, but the international system’s ability to maintain the functionality of a deeply interdependent global economy in an environment characterized by strategic rivalry, persistent insecurity, and geopolitical fragmentation.
The ten perspectives cover the relevant analytical spectrum—from classical naval power realism to critiques from the Global South, encompassing technological, institutional, and economic approaches. Beyond their differences, there are several notable points of convergence: nearly all experts believe that the reconfiguration is already underway and partially irreversible; nearly all argue that naval presence is necessary but insufficient; and nearly all identify the integration of the private sector and advanced technology as a critical gap in the current architecture. Differences arise regarding the purpose of the reform (universalist vs. competing blocs), the role of existing institutions, and the extent to which maritime security can be separated from systemic competition among the great powers.
MARITIME SECURITY FORUM