On World Earth Day, we were reminded that war is not only an assault on humanity, but also on the living systems that sustain us. The blockade of the Strait of Hormuz has triggered not just an energy crisis, but yet another collapse of industrial agriculture. A system built on long supply chains and energy-intensive synthetic fertilizers reveals itself to be structurally unstable and inherently risky for global food security.
The conflict in the Middle East once again lays bare the web of dependencies underpinning industrial food production, reminding us that the way forward lies in an alternative agroecological paradigm: one grounded in diversified farming, organic fertilizers, low energy use, and shorter, more resilient supply chains.
The case of Iran has thus exposed the shortcomings of an industrial production model built around the global fertilizer trade. Up to one third of the world’s fertilizer flows pass through the Strait of Hormuz, including nearly half of all traded urea each year. Its closure has already driven fertilizer prices up by 20 to 45 percent. Urea and ammonia have effectively become strategic commodities, comparable to oil. The impact of these dynamics feeds directly into rising agricultural costs and is ultimately borne by consumers, as reflected in the sharp increase in the prices of maize, rice, and wheat, especially in developing countries.
Industrial agriculture reveals itself for what it truly is: an extremely fragile system, dependent on fossil fuels and on a handful of strategic straits and ports controlled by military alliances and industrial oligopolies. This is a high-risk model, especially considering that, according to Euobserver, around 50 percent of global food production relies on synthetic fertilizers. Yet governments still seem unwilling to recognize the need for a paradigm shift.
On the contrary, according to an analysis by the Agroecology Coalition, governments spend more than $600 billion each year on agricultural subsidies, of which roughly $385 billion support the very intensive model that is driving climate and biodiversity breakdown. The same analysis estimates that a global transition to agroecological systems would require between $250 and $430 billion annually—less than what is already spent to prop up fossil-fuel-dependent agriculture. Higher labor costs would be more than offset by lower chemical input costs and increased resilience.
Agroecology, then, is not just another “technical fix,” but a political rupture. It means regenerating soil fertility; returning seeds to farmers’ hands, beyond the logic of patents; shortening supply chains; and advancing food sovereignty so that food systems depend not on militarized trade routes, but on networks of solidarity among communities. It is a bottom-up alternative that has already proven its ability to regenerate both land and livelihoods.
In recent years, laws and strategies for agroecology have proliferated, often co-developed with peasant movements, Indigenous communities, and networks of rural women. This is not only about reducing emissions, but about embedding agroecology within climate, biodiversity, and desertification policies—recognizing soil, water, and seeds as commons.
Ruchi Shroff, Navdanya International