By Hadia Safeer Choudhry
When U.S. President Donald Trump declared that Washington might stop buying “cooking oil” from China, it sounded like another round in the familiar trade sparring between the world’s two largest economies. The statement, made on October 14, was portrayed as a bold retaliation against Beijing’s decision to halt large-scale soybean imports from the United States. Yet beneath the fiery rhetoric lies a far more complex and largely symbolic economic maneuver shaped more by domestic politics than by trade logic.
Trump’s post on Truth Social accused China of “economic hostility,” claiming Beijing’s move was designed to hurt American farmers. He responded with what appeared to be an act of economic toughness: threatening to ban imports of Chinese cooking oil. At first glance, the message fit well into Trump’s long-standing narrative of “America First” trade defense. But, as often happens with populist gestures, the details tell a different story.
A Misdirected Target
China’s halt in soybean imports from the United States is neither new nor unexpected. It represents a continuation of the trade tensions that began in 2018, when Washington imposed tariffs on Chinese goods. Beijing responded strategically by cutting back on U.S. soybeans one of America’s most valuable exports to China, worth more than $12 billion annually before the trade war. Soybeans, after all, were the Achilles’ heel of the American agricultural economy, especially in the Midwestern states that form Trump’s political base.
By 2025, China had replaced most of its U.S. soybean imports with purchases from Brazil and other Latin American suppliers. The shift was reinforced this year by new China–Brazil trade agreements that expanded agricultural cooperation, with Brazil’s soybean exports reaching record highs while the U.S. share of China’s market dwindled to near zero. Washington’s aggressive tariff policies, coupled with erratic diplomatic messaging, made the loss of this vital market all but inevitable.
Trump’s latest outburst threatening to halt Chinese “cooking oil” imports was therefore less an economic countermeasure than a political performance aimed at reassuring disillusioned American farmers. Yet the term “cooking oil,” as used by Trump, was misleading. The United States imports very little edible oil from China only about 4,000 tons annually, worth roughly $10 million. What Washington actually buys in significant quantities is used cooking oil (UCO), known in China as “gutter oil.” This recycled byproduct from restaurants is processed into biodiesel and sustainable aviation fuel. In 2024, U.S. imports of Chinese UCO reached about 1.27 million tons, valued at over $1 billion.
So when Trump claimed he would “stop buying Chinese cooking oil,” he was referring to this industrial waste product—hardly the household staple his words implied. The distinction may seem trivial, but politically, it’s powerful: few American voters are likely to discern the difference between edible oil and recycled waste. What matters is the image of standing up to China and defending U.S. farmers.
Limited Economic Impact
If the U.S. were to follow through on its threat, would China feel any pain? Unlikely. The global demand for UCO is booming as countries race to meet renewable energy targets. Europe, Southeast Asia, and even China’s domestic biofuel sector would readily absorb any surplus if the U.S. market closed. In fact, Chinese exports of UCO to the United States had already dropped by more than 40 percent in 2025 due to shifting policies and the removal of export rebates.
Nor would the move meaningfully help American soybean farmers. At best, restricting UCO imports could raise domestic demand for soybean oil another biodiesel feedstock by perhaps three to five percent. But that modest bump pales in comparison to the losses caused by the collapse of the Chinese market. The overall effect would be negligible economically but beneficial politically: a symbolic show of strength that costs little yet garners headlines.
For many analysts, this is classic Trumpian politics high drama with low economic consequence. The issue is not whether the move makes economic sense but whether it looks decisive to a domestic audience.
Midwestern Optics and Election Math
In states like Iowa, Illinois, and Indiana America’s soybean heartland the political calculus is simple. These states account for more than 60 percent of U.S. soybean output and are pivotal to any Republican electoral strategy. The farm sector there has suffered heavily since the trade war’s escalation. When China was the main buyer, farmers enjoyed stable export markets and predictable incomes. Now, many are struggling, and some have gone bankrupt.
With the 2026 midterm elections on the horizon, Trump’s message is aimed squarely at these voters. His claim of fighting back against Beijing allows him to project resolve, even if the policy’s substance is thin. “Cooking oil” becomes a convenient slogan short, emotive, and easily digestible in political rallies and social media posts.
For the average voter, the details such as the distinction between edible and used oil, or the complex dynamics of global biofuel trade matter little. What counts is the perception that Trump is standing up to a rival power that has hurt American livelihoods.
A Global Context: From Midwest to the Amazon
Interestingly, while Trump’s rhetoric focuses on punishing China, Beijing has long diversified its agricultural imports, particularly from Brazil. This growing China-Brazil soybean partnership has not only reshaped global trade routes but also influenced environmental debates. As China buys more from Brazil, the expansion of soybean cultivation in the Amazon basin has raised concerns about deforestation and sustainability, according to recent New York Times and Reuters reports.
In other words, China’s strategic pivot away from the U.S. is not just an economic adjustment but a reflection of broader global realignments. Beijing is building resilient trade networks across the Global South from Latin America to Africa reducing its vulnerability to Western tariffs and sanctions. Washington’s reactive measures, such as targeting marginal imports like UCO, do little to alter this trajectory.
The Bigger Picture
Ultimately, the so-called “cooking oil” controversy underscores a deeper problem: America’s shrinking leverage in agricultural diplomacy. The U.S. continues to depend heavily on whole soybean exports, which comprise nearly 80 percent of its total soybean trade. China, in contrast, has developed extensive processing capacity and diversified sourcing strategies. This asymmetry leaves Washington with limited bargaining power.
Moreover, as the Yahoo Finance analysis notes, the Trump administration’s repeated tariff cycles have sown uncertainty in global markets. Businesses on both sides of the Pacific are weary of unpredictable policy swings. Investors and traders now view such pronouncements less as policy shifts and more as campaign theatrics.
Toward Dialogue, Not Drama
The rational path forward would be to de-escalate tensions: lower tariffs, restore normal trade flows, and encourage agricultural cooperation. China remains the only market capable of absorbing U.S. soybean surpluses at scale. Conversely, Chinese refiners and biofuel producers benefit from predictable access to global feedstocks. Yet, for now, politics continues to override pragmatism.
Trump’s “cooking oil” ban like many of his earlier trade threats is unlikely to materialize in full. It serves primarily as a political signal, designed to energize his voter base and distract from the deeper consequences of the prolonged trade war. It may score short-term political points, but it offers no solution to the structural problems facing U.S. farmers or to the broader instability in U.S.- China trade relations.
In the end, this episode illustrates the widening gap between political spectacle and economic substance in U.S. trade policy. The threat to ban Chinese “cooking oil” imports is neither an effective sanction nor a meaningful economic strategy. It’s a headline crafted for domestic consumption one that blurs facts to create the illusion of control.
For both Washington and Beijing, the real test lies not in social media exchanges but in restoring the mutual trust that once underpinned their vast agricultural and industrial interdependence. Until then, symbolic gestures will continue to dominate, while genuine solutions remain elusive.
About Author
Hadia Safeer Choudhry is an International Relations student with a solid academic basis in Climate Change, Diplomatic Relations, International Law, and Intercultural Communication. She can be reached at hadiasafeer74@gmail.com
