Europe’s skies are emptying as the Gulf conflict tightens its grip on global energy. With the Strait of Hormuz sealed shut since late February, jet fuel supplies have dried up, forcing Lufthansa to cancel 20,000 flights—a fifth of its scheduled operations.
The crisis traces back to a narrow waterway thousands of kilometres away. The Strait of Hormuz, through which 13% of the world’s oil and a fifth of its liquefied natural gas normally flow, remains paralysed by a U.S.–Iranian standoff.
President Donald Trump’s ceasefire extension this week has bought time but not a resolution. U.S. forces have seized Iranian vessels; Iran has retaliated. The chokepoint stays closed, and Europe’s runways are paying the price.
Brent crude has surged back above $100 a barrel. Global oil consumption has fallen by four million barrels per day—a four per cent plunge. For Europe, the disruption is no longer abstract. Empty departure boards and soaring energy bills are the visible fallout. The European Union is scrambling to design emergency measures, while households hedge against uncertainty by installing rooftop solar at a record pace.
Ironically, repeated shocks may entrench oil’s dominance. Each disruption underscores the fragility of alternatives, reinforcing fossil fuels’ central role even as policymakers push for transition.
Asia’s LNG imports are sliding to six‑year lows, yet its markets are recalibrating with surprising resilience. In Washington, meanwhile, clean power records keep falling despite a policy tilt toward fossil fuels—a paradox beneath the Gulf crisis.
And then there are the unexplained trades. Minutes before Trump’s ceasefire announcement, $430 million in bets against crude prices hit the market—the fourth such precisely timed wager since February. No answers have been offered.
Flights are grounded. The Strait is closed. And suspicion grows that the crisis is not only geopolitical, but financial.
PIX HORMUZ