Hormuz crisis: Death of Indian mariners by US forces, justified as collateral damage?
- TheSoulGuide

- 6 minutes ago
- 5 min read
The ongoing situation in the Strait of Hormuz is less a traditional blockade and more a high-stakes geopolitical chess game unfolding in one of the world’s most critical maritime chokepoints. At its core, the crisis reflects a simple but powerful truth: control over a narrow stretch of sea can translate into global influence. The strait handles roughly one-fifth of the world’s oil shipments, meaning even partial disruption can ripple across the global economy.
What Iran is doing is not a classical naval blockade in the sense of physically sealing off the waterway. Instead, it is executing a strategy of controlled disruption. Iran does not need to stop every ship; it only needs to make passage risky enough that shipping companies hesitate. By using drones, coastal missiles, fast attack boats, and sporadic strikes, Tehran has turned the strait into a psychological battlefield. Even the threat of attack has led to a sharp drop in ship traffic, demonstrating how fear alone can act as a powerful weapon.
However, the situation becomes more complex when examining the American response. The United States is not merely trying to “open the strait”; it is simultaneously waging its own form of economic warfare. Instead of closing the waterway entirely, Washington is targeting ships linked to Iranian oil exports. Through surveillance, interception, and sometimes force, the US Navy is enforcing a selective blockade aimed at cutting off Iran’s revenue streams while allowing global shipping to continue.
This creates what can only be described as a dual blockade scenario Iran restricting global shipping and the United States restricting Iranian shipping. On paper, both sides claim defensive or stabilizing intentions, but in practice, their actions overlap and escalate tensions. Naval clashes, drone interceptions, and strikes on ships have become increasingly frequent, transforming the strait into a contested war zone rather than a commercial passage.
What stands out most is the reality on the ground or rather, at sea. This is not an orderly conflict with clear lines. It is chaotic, uncertain, and dangerous for anyone involved. Commercial vessels often receive conflicting instructions: Iran may warn them not to pass, while US forces demand compliance with their inspections and directions. Ships that hesitate, comply with the “wrong” side, or attempt to bypass controls risk being attacked or detained. The result is a maritime environment where even neutral actors face constant risk.
The incidents unfolding in recent months illustrate this volatility. Iran has seized ships, attacked vessels, and laid mines, while the United States has disabled tankers and redirected dozens of ships suspected of carrying Iranian oil. These are not isolated events they are symptoms of a sustained strategy on both sides to assert dominance without triggering a full-scale conventional war.
The tragic death of Indian mariners in the Strait of Hormuz crisis underscores the human cost of contemporary geopolitical confrontation. The United States strike on the tanker MT Settebello, which resulted in the deaths of three Indian crew members, was not aimed at Indian nationals per se but formed part of a broader enforcement action against a vessel allegedly violating American-imposed restrictions on Iranian-linked shipping.
However, the absence of direct targeting does not diminish the seriousness of the incident. It is reasonably evident that the United States was aware that the vessel was manned by a multinational civilian crew, including Indian seafarers. Despite this, American forces chose to employ lethal force, firing upon the ship to disable its engine, a course of action that ultimately led to the loss of civilian lives.
The diplomatic response further complicates the assessment of the situation. Rather than expressing regret over the loss of life, the response attributed to US leadership emphasized compliance with American naval directives, urging that commercial vessels must adhere strictly to instructions issued by US forces operating in the region. (source)
This incident raises important questions about the nature of the India–United States relationship. While the relationship is often described as a strategic partnership, events such as these suggest an asymmetry that challenges the notion of mutual respect. A response grounded in partnership would ordinarily include acknowledgment of loss, expressions of regret, and a commitment to review operational procedures to prevent recurrence. In contrast, a response framed primarily in terms of compliance may be perceived as indicative of unilateralism and an assertion of power.
Even if the United States did not intend to kill Indian sailors specifically, the deaths were foreseeable consequences of firing on a civilian tanker. The Doctrine of Double Effect does not excuse harm simply because it is unintended; it requires that such harm be minimized and proportionate.
In this case, firing on a commercial vessel at sea knowing it carries a multinational civilian crew makes civilian casualties not an accident but a predictable outcome. When foreseeable harm is accepted as part of an operation, it becomes morally inseparable from the act itself. Therefore, the deaths cannot be dismissed as collateral; they must be treated as morally attributable to the action.
The United States may argue legality or strategic necessity, but ethically, this incident represents a failure to sufficiently protect non‑combatants, a disproportionate use of force, and a troubling normalization of civilian risk in geopolitical conflicts.
Condemning it is not anti-state or anti-policy it is a reaffirmation of a basic principle: civilian lives cannot be treated as negotiable costs in the pursuit of strategic objectives.
Also, from an ethical standpoint, this incident raises serious concerns. It exposes how civilian workers often from countries not involved in the conflict bear the risks of geopolitical confrontation. Indian seafarers, who form a large part of the global maritime workforce, find themselves caught between competing military powers, with little control over the situations they are placed in.
In terms of power dynamics, the region is dominated by two primary actors: the United States and Iran. The United States brings unmatched naval and air capabilities, including its Fifth Fleet stationed in Bahrain, which is tasked with maintaining open sea lanes. Iran, on the other hand, leverages geography and asymmetric tactics, using its proximity to the strait to compensate for conventional limitations.
Other regional players such as Saudi Arabia, the UAE, and Oman play supporting roles, while global powers like Europe, China and India watch closely due to their dependence on energy flows. However, none of them possess the combination of proximity and intent that Iran does, nor the projection power that the United States maintains.
Ultimately, the Strait of Hormuz crisis reveals a deeper insight into modern conflict. Control is no longer about total domination but about creating conditions that shape behavior. Iran does not need to fully close the strait; it only needs to make it unpredictable. The United States does not need to fully eliminate Iran’s influence; it only needs to constrain its economic capacity.
The result is a tense equilibrium unstable, costly, and dangerous where both sides push limits without crossing the threshold into all-out war. And as long as this balance continues, the sea will remain not just a trade route, but a battlefield where strategy, economics, and human lives intersect.




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