The most vulnerable will pay the highest price
When missiles struck Iran in late February, the tremors were felt not only across the Middle East but in the planting fields of sub-Saharan Africa — a connection invisible at first, yet now undeniable. The world's largest fertiliser producer has arrived in London to name what global markets are quietly enacting: a structural auction in which the poorest nations are outbid for the nutrients their harvests depend upon. With urea prices surging 60–70% and the sowing season already upon them, Africa's farmers face a narrowing window between scarcity and hunger. This is not merely a supply chain disruption — it is a test of whether global solidarity can outpace global inequality.
- Urea prices have surged 60–70% since late February, as the Iran conflict severed 35% of global supply from Gulf-state producers — a shock felt most acutely by those least able to absorb it.
- Africa's structural dependence on food imports, combined with the absence of EU-style farm subsidies, leaves its farmers with no financial cushion when fertiliser becomes a luxury rather than a given.
- Ammonia production has been suspended in countries including Qatar — and because ammonia is dangerous to store and slow to restart, every day offline translates into weeks or months of recovery time.
- Sub-Saharan Africa's sowing season is beginning now, meaning farmers need fertiliser immediately — while simultaneously losing the chance to build the stockpiles that would protect next year's harvest.
- The EU has already moved to protect its farmers with loosened subsidy rules and grants of up to €50,000 per farm, widening the gap between those the global system shields and those it leaves exposed.
- Yara's CEO stops short of predicting famine, but warns that the mechanism is already in motion — and that the window for world leaders to intervene before consequences become irreversible is closing fast.
When the United States and Israel launched strikes against Iran in late February, few immediately traced a line from those operations to the fields of sub-Saharan Africa. But within weeks, the consequences had rippled through global supply chains in ways that now threaten the food security of some of the world's most vulnerable nations. Svein Tore Holsether, chief executive of Yara International — the world's largest fertiliser manufacturer — travelled to London this week to deliver an urgent warning: the conflict has triggered a global auction for fertiliser that the poorest countries cannot win.
The arithmetic is stark. Urea, a critical nitrogen-based fertiliser, has risen 60–70% in price since late February. The cause is direct: 35% of global urea supply originates in Gulf states now disrupted by the conflict. Operating across 60 countries and selling into 140, Holsether has a rare vantage point — and what he sees is not just a price spike, but the structural inequality such spikes expose. When fertiliser grows scarce, wealthy nations and wealthy farmers outbid poorer ones. The poorest lose.
Africa is acutely exposed. Despite genuine potential as a major food producer, the continent remains a massive food importer. Countries like Ethiopia and Kenya depend heavily on Middle Eastern nitrogenous fertilisers, and when those supplies tighten, there is no financial buffer. Unlike European farmers — who begin from a position of optimised soil health and established reserves — African farmers are already under-fertilising. They cannot reduce inputs further without accepting sharp yield losses. They are starting from behind.
The disruption extends beyond urea. Ammonia, the foundational raw material for nitrogen-based fertilisers, is toxic and difficult to store safely; some countries, including Qatar, have suspended production entirely. Every day offline means weeks or months of recovery once conditions stabilise. The timing could not be worse: sub-Saharan Africa's sowing season is beginning now, and farmers need fertiliser immediately — while also losing the chance to build the summer stockpiles that would protect next year's planting.
The European Union has already acted, loosening state subsidy rules and announcing grants of up to €50,000 per farmer to offset rising fuel and fertiliser costs. In Europe, farming is being treated as a strategic asset worth defending. In Africa, no equivalent support exists. Holsether stopped short of predicting famine — but his warning is precise: a global auction is underway, the richest bidders are winning, and the window to prevent irreversible consequences is narrowing. The question is whether world leaders will move before it closes.
In late February, when the United States and Israel launched military operations against Iran, few observers immediately connected the strikes to the fields of sub-Saharan Africa. But within weeks, the consequences rippled across global supply chains in ways that threaten to hollow out the food security of some of the world's poorest nations. Svein Tore Holsether, chief executive of Yara International—the world's largest fertiliser manufacturer—arrived in London this week with an urgent message for world leaders: the conflict is creating a global auction for fertiliser that the most vulnerable countries simply cannot win.
The mathematics are brutal. Urea, a critical nitrogen-based fertiliser, has jumped between 60 and 70 percent in price since late February. The reason is straightforward: 35 percent of the world's urea supply originates in the Gulf states, and the Iran conflict has choked off those flows. Yara operates production plants across 60 countries and sells into 140, giving Holsether a vantage point few possess. What he sees alarming him is not merely a price spike—it is the structural inequality that such spikes expose. When fertiliser becomes scarce and expensive, wealthy nations and wealthy farmers outbid poorer ones. The poorest countries lose.
Africa presents a particular vulnerability. The continent has genuine potential as a major food producer, capable of feeding itself and exporting surplus to the world. Yet the reality is inverted: Africa remains a massive food importer, dependent on external supplies to feed its population. Ethiopia and Kenya, among others in sub-Saharan Africa, rely heavily on Middle Eastern nitrogenous fertilisers. When those supplies tighten and prices soar, there is no financial cushion. Holsether put it plainly: the most vulnerable will pay the highest price. And unlike European farmers, who operate from a position of already-optimised soil health and established reserves, African farmers typically begin from a position of under-fertilisation. They cannot simply reduce fertiliser use without accepting sharp drops in yield. They are starting from behind.
The problem compounds in multiple directions. Beyond urea, ammonia—a foundational raw material for nitrogen-based fertilisers—has also been disrupted by the conflict. Ammonia is toxic and dangerous to store, particularly in unstable conditions. Some countries, including Qatar, have suspended production entirely. Every day of suspended production means weeks or months of recovery time once conditions stabilise. Meanwhile, the sowing season in sub-Saharan Africa is beginning now. Farmers need fertiliser immediately for this year's crops. But they also face a second, less visible pressure: the routine practice of building stockpiles during summer months to prepare for next year's planting. That buffer is now at risk.
The European Union has already moved to shield its farmers. This week alone, Brussels loosened state subsidy rules and announced grant aid of up to €50,000 per farmer to offset the extra costs of fuel and fertiliser driven by the Iran conflict. The message is clear: in Europe, farming is being treated as a strategic asset worth protecting. In Africa, no such support exists. Holsether's warning is not a prediction of imminent famine—he stopped short of that. Rather, it is a call to recognise the mechanism at work: a global auction in which the richest bidders secure supplies while the poorest scramble for what remains, at prices they cannot afford. The window to prevent that outcome, he suggested, is closing. The question now is whether world leaders will act before the consequences become irreversible.
Notable Quotes
There is a risk of a global auction on fertiliser that means it becomes unaffordable for those most vulnerable— Svein Tore Holsether, CEO of Yara International
Africa is actually quite well positioned to be a major food producer, but the reality is that they are massive food importers— Svein Tore Holsether
The Hearth Conversation Another angle on the story
When you say a global auction, what exactly do you mean? Isn't fertiliser just traded on markets like any other commodity?
It is, but markets assume some baseline of access. When supply drops sharply and prices spike, wealthy buyers—countries with reserves, large farms with credit lines—can outbid poorer ones. It's not a formal auction, but the effect is the same. The poorest countries get priced out.
But couldn't African countries just pay more, borrow more, to secure what they need?
That assumes credit is available and that debt is sustainable. Most sub-Saharan nations are already stretched. And there's a deeper problem: if you're already under-fertilising your soil, you can't just skip a season. The yield collapse is immediate and severe. Europe can absorb a fertiliser shortage because their soil is already rich. Africa cannot.
So this is really about structural inequality in agriculture, not just the Iran conflict?
The conflict is the trigger, but yes—it exposes something that was always there. Africa produces food but imports it. It has potential but lacks the infrastructure and reserves to weather shocks. The war simply makes that vulnerability acute.
What happens if farmers in Ethiopia or Kenya can't afford fertiliser this season?
Lower yields. Less food produced. More reliance on imports, which are now more expensive. And for next year, depleted soil that needs even more input to recover. It's a downward spiral that's hard to reverse once it starts.
Is there a way to prevent this?
Yes. The EU showed it: treat farming as essential infrastructure and subsidise the inputs. But that requires political will and resources that most African governments don't have. Without external support, the poorest farmers will absorb the full shock.