In a stunning display of maritime sass that has left the Admiralty reaching for both the smelling salts and the strategic gin reserves, a flotilla of Iranian oil tankers has reportedly sashayed through the British-controlled Strait of Hormuz as if the entire Royal Navy were nothing more than a particularly underwhelming harbour seal. The US naval blockade, that most hallowed of geopolitical theatre props, has been rendered about as effective as a chocolate teapot in a heatwave.
The audacious manoeuvre, which saw the tankers allegedly 'slip' through the strait under cover of darkness, has sent shockwaves through the corridors of power, or at least through the corridor where they keep the vending machine that dispenses pre-emptive apologies. Eyewitnesses report the tankers were flying flags of convenience so flagrantly convenient they might as well have been emblazoned with 'Nothing to See Here, Please Carry On, Definitely Not Oil'. The Iranian Revolutionary Guard Corps, never ones to miss an opportunity for a spot of nautical gloating, have released footage of the operation set to what sounds suspiciously like the Benny Hill theme.
Westminster has responded with the customary flurry of sternly worded letters, terse press releases, and a motion to rename the strait the 'Strait of Mild Inconvenience'. A government source, who wished to remain anonymous for fear of being forced to attend another crisis meeting, confided that the blockade was 'more of a suggestion really, like a politely worded request to not have a cheeky cigarette in a hospital'. The Ministry of Defence has confirmed that they are 'monitoring the situation closely', which as we all know is Whitehall-speak for 'we have absolutely no idea what to do and are hoping it goes away'.
Meanwhile, the price of gin has remained stable, which is the only economic indicator that matters to this correspondent. One can only imagine the scene in Number 10: the Prime Minister, surrounded by advisors waving incomprehensible graphs, wondering aloud if perhaps the tankers might be persuaded to attend a summit on 'shared maritime values' over a nice cup of tea. The idea of imposing sanctions on Iran's oil exports was floated, but quickly sunk when someone pointed out that we sort of need that oil to keep the lights on in the briefing rooms where we decide to impose sanctions.
The sheer chutzpah of the endeavour is worthy of a Gilbert and Sullivan opera, were it not for the fact that the consequences could be a touch more serious than a comic misunderstanding over a pirate king. The US administration has responded by tweeting a picture of a warship with the caption 'We are very serious about this, you guys', which was retweeted by approximately twelve people including a bot that posts pictures of otters. Iran, for its part, has declared the operation a 'victory for resistance', which is diplomatic for 'ha ha, you can't catch us'.
As the sun sets on another day of glorious farce, one cannot help but marvel at the sheer theatricality of international relations. The Strait of Hormuz, that narrow throat of geopolitical tension, has become the stage for a comedy of errors that would make Shakespeare weep into his mead. But weep not, dear reader, for the show must go on, and the tankers must flow. After all, someone has to keep the world's plastic dinghies afloat.
