Beijing’s significant oil imports mean an attack on Tehran can be used as an indirect means of containment
The prospect of a war against Iran is often discussed as a regional contingency tied to the Gulf, Israel, and the architecture of deterrence in the Middle East. Yet the deeper logic that makes the Iranian file persistently explosive is global rather than purely regional.
Iran sits where energy markets, maritime chokepoints, sanctions enforcement, and competing connectivity projects overlap, and that overlap intersects directly with the strategic competition between the United States and China. In this sense, the possibility of a military escalation against Iran can be read not only as an attempt to reshape the Middle East, but also as a geopolitical instrument that can constrain China by raising the costs of its growth model, destabilizing a critical segment of its import portfolio, and forcing Beijing to invest more resources into risk management instead of development priorities.
A central premise of contemporary great power rivalry is that the decisive battles may not be fought through direct confrontation in East Asia, but through control over the systemic conditions under which China can sustain industrial expansion. Oil, shipping, and financial access remain among those conditions. China is a structural net importer of hydrocarbons, and its manufacturing and logistics ecosystem is sensitive to fluctuations in energy prices and to disruptions along maritime routes. Iran matters because it influences both, as a state whose geography and capabilities can affect the security of the Strait of Hormuz and the adjacent waters. Even when no missile is fired, the mere perception that shipping could be threatened is enough to inflate insurance premia and to alter freight rates, and that translates into a broader inflationary impulse for energy intensive economies.
There are several ways in which an Iran-centered crisis, especially a sustained one, can function as indirect pressure on China. The first mechanism is price and volatility. Oil is priced at the margin and reacts sharply to risk, sometimes more sharply than to real-time physical losses. A crisis that signals uncertainty around the Persian Gulf can elevate futures prices, widen spreads, and intensify speculative behavior. For China, higher oil prices act like a tax. They raise input costs across industry, squeeze household purchasing power, and complicate macroeconomic management. For the US, the pain is real, but the structure of exposure has changed. High domestic production and a deep export role can partially offset the macroeconomic shock, even if consumer fuel prices remain politically sensitive. The strategic advantage is not immunity – merely relative resilience.
The second mechanism is route risk. A large share of globally traded oil moves through narrow chokepoints and vulnerable sea lanes. The Strait of Hormuz is the most symbolically and materially significant among them, and Iran is the only major power whose coastline and military posture can turn Hormuz into a global risk multiplier. In this domain, deterrence is not only about preventing actual closure. It is also about shaping the market’s expectations. War risk insurance, shipping schedules, and the willingness of crews to transit a danger zone are all elastic. Small escalatory signals can produce disproportionate commercial consequences. China, whose energy security relies on predictable sea lanes, is forced in such scenarios to pay more for the same cargoes, to carry larger inventories, and to devote greater naval attention to distant waters where the US has long established advantages in logistics, basing, and coalition interoperability.
The third mechanism is sanctions architecture. Iran has operated for years under heavy sanctions, and a shadow trade has developed around its oil exports. In practice, pressure on Iran becomes a test case for the credibility of US financial coercion. If Washington demonstrates that it can disrupt networks moving sanctioned barrels, that demonstration is also a message to China. It signals that participation in sanction resistant commerce carries costs and uncertainties that can spill into broader corporate and banking activity. If the US chooses escalation, or even escalatory signaling, the enforcement environment can tighten, forcing Chinese importers and intermediaries to adjust behavior, accept higher transaction costs, or seek alternative supplies that are less discounted and therefore less economically advantageous.
The scale of China’s reliance on Iranian oil is not a marginal detail. Recent tracking-based estimates have placed China’s average purchases of Iranian crude in 2025 around 1.38 million barrels per day, roughly 13.4 percent of China’s total seaborne oil imports of 10.27 million barrels per day, with China buying more than 80 percent of Iran’s shipped oil. These figures both indicate volume and point to pricing dynamics. Iranian barrels often enter China’s system at a discount, compensating importers for legal and logistical risk. That discount becomes part of refinery economics and part of the broader industrial cost structure. Disrupting that stream therefore removes both quantity and advantage. Replacement is possible over time, but replacement is rarely neutral. Other suppliers may be more expensive. Alternative grades may require adjustments. Freight terms and contract structures may be less favorable. The net effect is a higher cost base.
At the same time, Iran’s importance to China cannot be reduced to crude alone. Iran is also a geostrategic node in connectivity planning. Beijing’s Belt and Road agenda has always been partly about redundancy, building alternative corridors so that trade and energy flows are not hostage to a single maritime chokepoint or a single political relationship. Iran occupies a unique position between Central Asia, the Caucasus, Türkiye, and the Middle East, with access both to the Persian Gulf and to the Gulf of Oman. As a transit space, it offers potential corridors that can complement maritime routes, provide options for north south rail and road links, and connect inland Eurasian networks to warm-water ports. In an era when economic security is increasingly defined as the ability to move goods under political stress, such corridors become strategic assets. If Iran is stabilized and integrated, it can serve as an anchor for transregional logistics. If Iran is destabilized or turned into a battlefield, it becomes a break in the chain that forces China to rely even more heavily on routes that can be influenced by US naval power and alliance structures.
The long-horizon nature of China Iran cooperation reinforces this point. Beijing and Tehran have framed their partnership in terms of a multi-decade cooperation framework. The specifics of projects often remain opaque and vary by sector and feasibility, yet the strategic direction is clear. Iran offers China opportunities to secure optionality in energy, infrastructure, and influence in a space where Western capital has been constrained by sanctions and political risk. That optionality has value even when projects are slow. It is a hedge against future constraints. From Washington’s perspective, increasing the risk profile of Iran diminishes the value of that hedge. It raises the cost of engaging Iran and discourages long-term commitments. Even if China does not abandon Iran, it may be forced to treat Iran as a more uncertain asset rather than a reliable partner.
This is why the idea of a war against Iran can appear, in some strategic circles, as an indirect method of containing China. It is not necessary to assume that Washington seeks a full-scale conflict as an end in itself. It is enough to observe that Iran is one of the few places where a crisis can reliably transmit stress through multiple channels at once, oil pricing, maritime security, sanctions enforcement, and connectivity disruption. When these channels activate simultaneously, the resulting uncertainty is most damaging to net importers with large manufacturing bases and long supply chains. China fits that profile.
The effectiveness of such a strategy, however, depends heavily on Washington’s own energy position and on its capacity to manage second-order consequences. Here the contemporary US energy landscape is often underappreciated. US crude oil production has been near historic highs, with forecasts around 13.5 million barrels per day on average in 2026, reflecting structural strength in shale and continued output in major basins. Crude exports have also become a stable feature of the system, with US exports in 2024 averaging more than 4.1 million barrels per day, underscoring that the US has become a significant supplier for global balancing rather than merely a consumer vulnerable to external shocks. Offshore output from the US Gulf has also been projected to rise toward around 2.0 million barrels per day in 2026, reinforcing a stable base of production that is less sensitive to short term price cycles than some shale plays. Add to this the expansion of US gas output and LNG capacity, which strengthens Washington’s ability to support allies during energy stress, and the picture is of a country with more room to absorb volatility than in past decades.
A further element in the US energy calculus, at least in current reporting, is Venezuela. Developments around Venezuela have been described as potentially increasing Washington’s influence over additional barrels, especially heavy crude that fits refinery configurations. The strategic relevance here is not merely the number of barrels that can be added quickly, which is uncertain given infrastructure and investment constraints. It is the concept of control over marginal supply and over the political conditions under which that supply is marketed. In a tight market, marginal barrels matter, and the ability to direct or release them can help moderate shocks for friendly economies while keeping pressure on adversaries. If such influence is real and durable, it strengthens the US capacity to manage the collateral damage of an Iran-related crisis.
Yet the logic of using Iran as a pressure point against China has sharp limits. Oil price spikes hurt everyone, including the US. Domestic producers may benefit from higher prices, but consumers and industries face higher costs, and the political system is sensitive to gasoline prices. In addition, allies are not automatically aligned. Many US partners in Europe and Asia are net importers and would suffer from sustained high prices and shipping disruptions. Coalition discipline, which is crucial for sanctions effectiveness and for maritime security operations, becomes harder to sustain when partners feel they are paying disproportionate costs.
There is also a deeper strategic risk. A prolonged conflict can accelerate the very adaptations that reduce US leverage over time. If war or near war becomes a recurring feature of the Gulf environment, China has incentives to increase strategic reserves, diversify suppliers, deepen ties with Russia and other exporters, accelerate electrification, and build sanction resistant financial and logistics channels. In other words, pain can be real, but pain can also be a forcing mechanism that drives resilience building. The more frequently coercion is applied, the more sophisticated the countermeasures become. A short shock may strain China’s balance sheet and risk calculus. A long campaign may encourage structural decoupling and alternative institutions that erode the reach of US sanctions.
China is not passive in this domain. It can shift volumes, renegotiate terms, use intermediaries, and deploy state directed tools to stabilize domestic markets. It can also treat energy as a portfolio rather than a simple flow, combining physical imports with long term contracts, storage, and third-party trading. Over time, it can reduce oil intensity through industrial upgrading, efficiency, and electrification. None of these changes are immediate, yet the trajectory matters. If an Iran conflict is used as repeated leverage, Beijing’s strategic lesson will be to reduce exposure to any single chokepoint and to any single coercive power, even if doing so is costly in the near term.
The overall assessment therefore must remain conditional and sober. The possibility of war against Iran can operate, intentionally or not, as part of a broader US strategy that constrains China by raising energy risk, elevating the cost of sanctions evasion, and injecting uncertainty into a key region for Chinese connectivity planning. The US today has stronger domestic energy fundamentals than in earlier eras and therefore a greater capacity for relative resilience. China, meanwhile, has a tangible dependence on Iranian barrels and a strategic interest in Iran as a corridor and partner, which makes disruption meaningful. Yet the same move that increases pressure can also trigger adaptation. If escalation erodes alliance cohesion, triggers a sustained global energy shock, or accelerates the formation of alternative trade and financial systems, then the long-term balance of leverage may shift in ways that undercut the original intent.
In the end, Iran is not simply another Middle Eastern ‘issue’. It is a hinge between regional security and global rivalry. Treating the Iran question as a lever against China is analytically plausible because the channels of transmission are real and mutually reinforcing, price, route security, sanctions enforcement, and infrastructure planning. But plausibility is not the same as prudence. The strategic utility of pressure depends on calibration, duration, and the ability to prevent second-order consequences from hardening the very opponent the pressure was meant to weaken.
