By Our Senior Staff Writer
For decades, food security across the Organisation of Islamic Cooperation (OIC) was treated as a technical or humanitarian concern—measured in grain imports, emergency relief, and seasonal shortages. Today, however, that framework is collapsing under the weight of new realities. Climate shocks, global supply disruptions, and geopolitical tensions have exposed a deeper truth: food security is not merely about feeding populations—it is about power, control, and sovereignty.
Across the OIC, the scale of the challenge is staggering. Between 2020 and 2022, nearly 45% of the population experienced moderate or severe food insecurity, while almost half of global food crises occurred within OIC member states. At the same time, the bloc remains structurally dependent on external supply chains, importing far more food than it exports. In 2021 alone, food imports reached nearly $293 billion compared to $188 billion in exports, reinforcing a persistent trade imbalance.
This dependency is not accidental; it is structural. Despite agriculture employing over 216 million people—about 32% of the workforce—and contributing more than 10% of GDP, productivity remains weak and fragmented. The result is a paradox that defines much of the Muslim world today: vast land, labour, and resources coexisting with chronic reliance on external food systems.
What is now emerging, however, is a strategic shift—one that reflects a growing awareness that control over food systems is inseparable from political autonomy. At the multilateral level, institutions such as the Islamic Organization for Food Security are attempting to move beyond fragmented national responses toward coordinated bloc-level resilience. Initiatives such as regional food reserves aim to stabilize prices, reduce emergency vulnerability, and—crucially—limit dependence on non-OIC suppliers during crises. This is not simply policy innovation; it is an attempt to construct an alternative architecture of food security rooted in collective self-reliance.
Yet the deeper story lies within individual member states, where the tension between dependency and sovereignty is most visible. Nigeria offers a striking example. Despite possessing vast agricultural potential and extensive arable land, the country remains heavily import-dependent. In the first half of 2025 alone, food imports surged by over 44% to ₦677.3 billion, reflecting persistent structural weaknesses in domestic production. At the same time, Nigeria has been designated as a regional grain storage hub for the OIC, leveraging its network of strategic reserves to support broader food distribution across member states.
This duality—dependency alongside strategic positioning—captures the broader dilemma facing many African OIC countries: the capacity exists, but the system remains underdeveloped, fragmented, and vulnerable to both internal inefficiencies and external pressures.
Saudi Arabia presents a different but equally instructive case. With limited arable land and harsh climatic conditions, it remains one of the world’s largest food importers, sourcing over 90% of certain staple commodities from abroad. Yet rather than accepting vulnerability, the Kingdom has pursued an aggressive strategy of external agricultural investment, technological innovation, and supply chain control. This includes large-scale investments in farmland abroad and strategic partnerships designed to secure long-term food access.
Indonesia, meanwhile, illustrates the complexity of scale. As the largest food consumer market within the OIC and a leading agricultural exporter, particularly in commodities such as palm oil, it occupies a unique position of both strength and vulnerability. While it generates significant export revenues, it still faces internal challenges related to productivity, distribution, and food access across its vast archipelago.
Taken together, these cases reveal a critical pattern: OIC states are not uniformly weak, but collectively fragmented. Some possess land, others capital, others markets—yet the absence of coordinated strategy has historically prevented the emergence of a unified food security bloc capable of resisting external dependence.
This is where the geopolitical dimension becomes unavoidable. Global food systems are not neutral. They are shaped by powerful actors—agribusiness conglomerates, commodity traders, and advanced economies—that control pricing, logistics, and distribution networks. For import-dependent nations, this creates a condition of structural vulnerability, where access to food can be influenced by external political and economic pressures.
In such a system, food becomes not just a commodity, but an instrument of leverage. From a resistance-oriented perspective, the current shift within the OIC can therefore be understood as part of a broader struggle for autonomy. Efforts to strengthen intra-OIC trade, develop strategic reserves, invest in agricultural technology, and build regional supply chains are not merely economic policies—they are acts of structural resistance against a global system that centralizes control outside the Muslim world.
Yet ambition alone is insufficient. Structural constraints remain severe. Across the OIC, 176 million people are still undernourished, and agricultural productivity continues to lag behind global benchmarks. Many countries lack modern processing industries, storage infrastructure, and technological capacity. Governance challenges—policy inconsistency, weak institutions, and corruption—further undermine implementation.
This brings us to the most important point: food security cannot be separated from political ethics. Systems that fail to ensure justice, accountability, and long-term planning will inevitably produce economic vulnerability, regardless of resource endowment. From an Islamic economic perspective, the issue is therefore not only about production or investment. It is about stewardship. Ensuring that populations have access to food is not a technical objective—it is a moral obligation tied to governance, responsibility, and public welfare.
The emerging transformation within the OIC—shifting from reactive crisis management to strategic system-building—is therefore significant. But its success will depend on whether it evolves beyond fragmented national efforts into a coherent, ethically grounded framework that integrates governance, economics, and sovereignty.
In an increasingly unstable global order, the lesson is clear: nations that do not control their food systems do not control their future. For the OIC, the path forward lies not merely in producing more food, but in reclaiming the structures through which food—and therefore power—is distributed.