War and food security
Last week, I proposed a rapid transition to electric motorcycles, e-bikes, and e-trikes to dramatically cut oil dependence. Powered increasingly by solar, wind, and hydroelectric energy, these vehicles could decouple everyday mobility from volatile global oil markets.
Today, we extend the analysis to how the Iran–Israel–United States war lands directly on the dinner table. The reason is simple: energy is the backbone of food. When conflict critically constricts the Strait of Hormuz and damages oil infrastructure, the first shock is fuel. But the deeper shock is agricultural. Diesel powers tractors, irrigation pumps, fishing boats, trucks, and cold storage. Natural gas underpins fertilizer. Shipping moves everything across an archipelago.
When energy is disrupted, food becomes more expensive to produce, move, and buy. The Philippines is particularly exposed. It imports nearly all of its crude oil and most of its fertilizer. That means global disruptions are quickly transmitted into domestic prices. The real risk is not just food availability. It is access and affordability. In the short term, food will still be there. But prices rise. Transport costs increase. Fishers make fewer trips because fuel is expensive. Farmers pay more for fertilizer and hauling.
In the medium term, the danger deepens. If high fuel and fertilizer costs persist through planting cycles, farmers begin to cut back: less fertilizer, smaller areas, delayed planting. Yields suffer later. What begins as an imported energy shock becomes a domestic production problem.
In the long term, the risk becomes structural. A prolonged war can lock in high food prices, strain government budgets, and push vulnerable households into chronic food insecurity. This is how inflation turns into malnutrition. The World Food Programme has already warned that tens of millions more people globally could fall into acute hunger if the conflict persists and oil prices remain high.
But this is not just a story of risk. It is also a test of resilience. We have seen this before. During COVID-19, hunger spread not because food disappeared, but because people lost income and mobility. In response, Filipinos created community pantries—simple, decentralized systems of mutual aid that filled gaps faster than formal programs could.
Today’s crisis is different. It is not a lockdown shock but an energy shock. A pantry cannot lower global oil prices. But the spirit behind it—”bayanihan”—can still be mobilized, this time in a more strategic way.
This is where the Philippines can turn a global crisis into a resilience opportunity. First, we must treat fuel, fertilizer, and logistics as food-security priorities. Keeping farms producing and fishers operating is just as important as managing retail prices. If producers cut back, the real crisis comes later.
Second, we should strengthen local food systems. Community food sheds, cooperative buying, and barangay-level distribution can shorten supply chains and reduce dependence on expensive transport. The lesson from COVID is not just charity—it is proximity.
Third, we need to protect the most vulnerable producers. Small farmers and municipal fishers are the first to reduce activity when costs rise. Targeted fuel and input support can prevent a temporary shock from becoming a production collapse.
Fourth, we must accelerate structural adaptation. Solar-powered irrigation, local drying and storage, cold chains, and more efficient logistics can reduce the country’s dependence on imported fuel over time. Every efficiency gain is a buffer against the next global shock.
Fifth, we should revive local production habits. Backyard gardening, community farms, school gardens, and small-scale aquaculture will not replace national supply, but they can cushion communities against price spikes.
The key insight is this: food security is not only about supply. It is about systems. The Philippines cannot control wars in the Middle East. But it can control how vulnerable its own food system is to those shocks.
This war is a warning and an opportunity. Short-term tactical response is palliative. If we respond with resilience—at the farm, the fishery, the barangay, and the national level—we can come out stronger.
But this requires a skillful conductor or a strong commander. I miss the concerted national awakening—effected through propaganda and martial prodding—that popularized Original Pilipino Music alongside the “New Society” and the “Democratic Revolution” during former President Ferdinand Marcos Sr.’s infamous but audacious break from history. Are our leaders, especially the President, up to inspiring, cobbling, orchestrating, and mobilizing the nation toward long-term, nationwide, and inclusive food resilience?
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doyromero@gmail.com
