Zero tariffs on commodities already left unprocessed do not solve that problem
On the first of May, China extended zero-tariff trade access to fifty-three African nations, carving out a single exception — Eswatini, whose loyalty to Taiwan marks it as outside the circle of Beijing's generosity. The gesture arrives at a moment when Western trade policy is tightening, allowing China to cast itself as the open hand in a world of closing fists. Yet beneath the symbolism lies a structural tension older than any tariff schedule: Africa continues to export its earth and import the finished world, and a duty-free label on raw ore does not, by itself, change that equation.
- China's sweeping tariff elimination covers an entire continent, a move Beijing calls unprecedented among major economies — and timed deliberately to contrast with American protectionism under Trump.
- The one excluded nation, Eswatini, is being made an example: its diplomatic ties with Taiwan have a measurable economic price, and Beijing wants every African capital to notice.
- Africa's trade deficit with China exploded 65% to $102 billion last year, a figure that reveals how lopsided the exchange remains — raw materials flowing out, manufactured goods flowing in.
- Analysts warn that zero tariffs on unprocessed commodities may deepen dependency rather than disrupt it, leaving the structural constraints of weak industry and poor logistics untouched.
- The path to genuine gain runs through African governments choosing to leverage this access as industrial policy — using the open door not just to export more, but to export differently.
Starting Friday, China will drop tariffs on goods from fifty-three African nations, extending a policy already in place for the continent's least-developed countries since last December. The one exception is Eswatini, which maintains formal diplomatic ties with Taiwan — a deliberate exclusion that functions as a warning to any nation considering the same alignment. The deal runs through April 2028.
The timing is pointed. With the United States retreating behind trade barriers, Beijing is positioning itself as Africa's most reliable economic partner. Analysts like Lauren Johnston of the AustChina Institute acknowledge the policy could genuinely help African agricultural exports and lift rural incomes — but they are careful to note that tariffs were never the central obstacle.
The deeper problem is structural. Africa's trade deficit with China surged sixty-five percent last year to roughly $102 billion, driven by an exchange that has changed little in character: raw materials and extractive commodities flow toward China, manufactured goods flow back. Economists like Jervin Naidoo and Alfred Schipke expect short-term gains to be modest and uneven, concentrated in more industrialized economies like South Africa and Morocco.
Longer-term, shifting Chinese consumer tastes — more coffee, more nuts, more specialty foods — could open genuine new markets for producers in countries like Kenya. But fiscal economist Wangari Kebuchi offers the sharpest caution: zero tariffs on commodities that leave African shores unprocessed do not solve the continent's structural dependency. They can entrench it. The real test, she argues, is whether African governments treat this access as a foundation for industrialization — or simply as a faster lane for the same old trade.
The exclusion of Eswatini, meanwhile, carries a message beyond economics. When Taiwan's president recently attempted to visit the country, three African nations refused his aircraft passage over their airspace — a move Taiwan attributed to Beijing's pressure. China is demonstrating, with precision, what friendship with Taiwan costs. Some analysts think the isolation may backfire, giving Eswatini leverage to extract more from Taipei. But the broader architecture of incentive and punishment is unmistakable: Beijing is making the geography of loyalty visible.
Starting Friday, China will eliminate tariffs on goods from fifty-three African nations—everyone on the continent except one. That exception is Eswatini, a landlocked country in southern Africa that maintains diplomatic relations with Taiwan, the self-governed island that Beijing claims as its own. The zero-tariff regime will remain in place through April 2028, though what happens after that date remains unspecified.
China has already extended duty-free treatment to thirty-three of Africa's least-developed countries as of last December. This expansion represents what Beijing calls a first among major economies: unilateral tariff elimination across an entire continent. The move is unmistakably a play for influence. By positioning itself as a trade liberalizer at a moment when the United States under Donald Trump is moving in the opposite direction, China is signaling to African governments that it is the more reliable economic partner. Lauren Johnston, a senior research fellow at the AustChina Institute, notes that the policy could genuinely help African agricultural exports grow, which would lift rural incomes and reduce poverty. But she and other analysts are quick to point out that tariffs have never been the main problem holding back African exporters.
The real issue is structural and vast. Last year, Africa's trade deficit with China ballooned by sixty-five percent to roughly one hundred and two billion dollars. African countries send China raw materials—crude oil, metallic ores, minerals—and receive manufactured goods in return. That imbalance is widening, not shrinking. Angola, the Democratic Republic of Congo, and South Africa are China's largest trading partners in the region, and their exports are dominated by extractive industries. A tariff cut does nothing to change this fundamental asymmetry. Jervin Naidoo, a political analyst at Oxford Economics Africa, explains that many African economies face structural constraints—limited industrial capacity, weak logistics networks, dependence on commodity exports—that tariff reductions alone cannot fix. Alfred Schipke, director of the East Asian Institute in Singapore, expects the short-term economic impact to be modest and concentrated in countries that already have export capacity. South Africa and Morocco, more industrialized than their neighbors, will likely benefit most.
Over the longer term, the picture could shift. Amit Jain, a Singapore-based expert in China-Africa relations, points out that Chinese consumer preferences have changed dramatically. Twenty years ago, Chinese buyers purchased far less coffee and nuts than they do now. Those shifting tastes could open new markets for African producers. Ken Gichinga, an economist, sees particular opportunity for Kenya in avocados, macadamia nuts, coffee, tea, and leather. But Wangari Kebuchi, an Africa fiscal policy economist, sounds a warning: tariff access alone will not solve Africa's structural problem. "Zero tariffs on commodities that have already left our shores unprocessed do not solve that problem," she told the BBC. "They can entrench it." The real question, she argues, is whether African governments will use this improved market access as leverage to build domestic industries and move beyond raw material exports.
The exclusion of Eswatini is a political statement with limited economic consequence. The country is one of only twelve nations that maintains formal diplomatic ties with Taiwan. By cutting it out of the tariff deal, China is demonstrating what happens to Taiwan's friends. Last month, Taiwan's president Lai Ching-te had to cancel a visit to Eswatini after three other African nations—Seychelles, Mauritius, and Madagascar—refused to allow his aircraft to cross their airspace. Taiwan accused those countries of acting under pressure from Beijing. Wen-Ti Sung, a political scientist at the Australian National University's Taiwan Centre, sees the Eswatini exclusion as a calculated message: "China wants to show the world how it treats its friends, versus Taiwan's friends." Some analysts believe the move may actually backfire, giving Eswatini leverage to extract even more economic concessions from Taiwan. But the broader signal is unmistakable. China is weaponizing its economic relationships, showing that alignment with Beijing comes with tangible rewards—and that alignment with Taiwan carries costs.
Citações Notáveis
China is positioning itself as the trade liberaliser and Africa-friendly economic partner, in contrast to Donald Trump and the US— Lauren Johnston, AustChina Institute
Zero tariffs on commodities that have already left our shores unprocessed do not solve that problem. They can entrench it.— Wangari Kebuchi, Africa fiscal policy economist
A Conversa do Hearth Outra perspectiva sobre a história
Why exclude just one country? Wouldn't it be more effective to include everyone?
The exclusion is the point. Eswatini is one of only twelve nations that recognizes Taiwan diplomatically. By cutting it out, China sends a message to every other African government about what happens when you side with Taiwan instead of Beijing.
But economically, does Eswatini matter that much to China?
Not really. The economic impact is minimal. What matters is the signal—and possibly the leverage it gives Taiwan to offer Eswatini something in return. But for the other fifty-three countries, the message is clear: stay aligned with us, and you get access.
So this is soft power, not hard economics?
Partly. The tariff cuts could genuinely help African agricultural exports grow. But analysts are skeptical it will solve the real problem: Africa exports raw materials and imports finished goods. Tariffs were never the bottleneck.
Then what is?
Infrastructure, industrial capacity, the ability to process and manufacture. A tariff cut doesn't build a factory or train a workforce. It just makes it slightly cheaper to ship unprocessed commodities to China.
So Africa gains what, exactly?
Short-term: some boost to agriculture and mining sectors, better access to Chinese markets for certain products like coffee and avocados. Long-term: only if African governments use this as leverage to build their own industries. Otherwise, it just entrenches the old pattern.