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The UAE has spent billions of dollars on African farmland, supposedly to address its food insecurity. Now, with Iran blocking food shipments through the Strait of Hormuz, the strategy’s limits are being revealed. 

Publisher's summary

Deep in the heart of the Sahara Desert, an industrial complex of greenhouses rises above the dunes. Running underneath the sand is a 35-mile-long pipeline transporting water to the property in this remote part of Mauritania.

The owners? A firm from the United Arab Emirates. The goal? Farming blueberries.

In recent years, companies from the UAE have invested heavily in farming projects across Africa. There are currently 56 projects spanning millions of acres from Sudan to the project in Mauritania, which I reported from last year as part of a year-long investigation into the UAE’s agriculture acquisitions in Africa.

Despite their country’s staggering wealth, UAE officials have long known that food is the country’s Achilles’ heel. High temperatures, lack of water and infertile soil make growing most crops exceedingly challenging, meaning the UAE has to import about 90% of its food. Increasingly, Emirati agribusiness has looked to Africa to reduce its anxiety about food shortages, quietly preparing for distant climate shocks and conflicts by investing $11.9 billion in East African agriculture alone since 2009, according to the Africa Center for Strategic Studies.

Now, as the war with Iran enters its third week, the entire strategy is being tested and cast into doubt. Iran has blocked the vast majority of ships from transiting through the Strait of Hormuz, the narrow strip of water between the UAE and Iran, through which 90% of the UAE’s food supply has historically flowed. The country holds six months of grain and staple stockpiles, but the blockage threatens fruit and vegetable supplies that depend on continuous imports, and experts warn that food shortages will occur if the war continues.

But the otherworldly scene at the farm in Mauritania revealed the extent of the UAE’s food challenges — even outside of war. The state-backed Emirati firm had said it was going to grow blueberries. But there were no blueberries in sight.

Why was one desert nation trying to grow fruit in another desert nation, over 6,000 miles away? Over the course of the past year, I’ve been investigating Emirati projects in Africa, seeking to understand why they are investing in remote sites where other companies would not dare, pushing through vast losses and, sometimes, allegations of land and water grabs.

Some farming investors say it is simply naivete, but others say the effort to transform arid land into arable is part of a long-standing Emirati tradition of projecting power and ingenuity, which in recent years has been a central part of its foreign policy effort to expand influence in Africa and beyond.