Agriculture

Wheat prices have risen sharply amid disruptions to Black Sea exports as the Russia-Ukraine war continues and as changing weather patterns cause droughts that have sharply reduced production.

Over the past month, Russia and Ukraine have stepped up attacks on each other’s grain terminals on the Black Sea. With Russia the world’s largest wheat exporter, and Ukraine among the top 10 grain-producing countries, these attacks have taken their toll on global wheat and grain supply.

Chicago wheat futures, the global benchmark for the grain market, hit a three-year high on Friday, before nudging down 0.54 percent on Monday to $7.79 per bushel by 02:00 GMT. Authorities in Russia’s Rostov region called a state of emergency on Friday after announcing that port closures and navigation disruptions in the Sea of Azov and Black Sea basin have led to a pile-up of agricultural products at farms.

Meanwhile, the rising temperatures and lack of rain have threatened to cut this year’s wheat harvest in South Africa’s Swartland, which produces about 20 percent of the country’s wheat.

Here’s what we know:

What impact is the Russia-Ukraine war having on prices?

Over the past month, strikes on ports, vessels and grain facilities amid the Russia-Ukraine conflict have disrupted grain terminals and forced shippers to delay or cancel cargo loadings during the peak export season.

While Russian missile attacks have impacted Ukraine’s grain exports, Ukraine’s drone attacks in the Sea of Azov have also sharply curtailed Russian shipments of both grain and wheat. At the same time, attacks on Russia’s Novorossiysk and Taman ports have increased shipping costs out of its Black Sea ports.

According to Ukraine’s Ministry of Infrastructure, in July, Ukraine suffered 35 Russian attacks on vessels in port, 22 at sea and 67 on port facilities. By comparison, the total number of vessel strikes for the whole of 2025 was just 14.

On Friday, Kyiv’s agricultural minister said recent Russian air attacks have destroyed around 90 percent of retailers’ food logistics. With transport of wheat curtailed, prices have risen, raising fears of food insecurity around the world.

Joe Glauber, a research fellow emeritus in the director general’s office at the International Food Policy Research Institute, said that the issue, therefore, is less the amount of wheat being produced and more about the cost of getting it to buyers and consumers.

“There’s plenty of wheat in Russia and Ukraine, and ultimately that wheat will make it out on to the market. But right now it can’t, or it comes out with a very high cost, and so wheat prices have reflected that,” he told Al Jazeera.

“There’s a lot of wheat in the world…it’s not a question of availability, it’s a question of affordability,” he added.

Egypt, the world’s largest wheat importer, usually spends around $3bn per year on importing wheat. In the first half of 2026, it sourced more than 82 percent of its stock from Russia and Ukraine.

In Asia, second-largest wheat importer Indonesia bought $361m of wheat from Ukraine and $102m from Russia between 2023 and 2024, according to the Observatory of Economic Complexity. Indonesia usually sources between 15 percent and 20 percent of its wheat from the two countries.

An official at Indonesia’s Flour Millers’ Association told Reuters last week that current stocks can meet immediate food-grade wheat requirements. “But we don’t have abundant or excess supply. We have to look at other origins such as Bulgaria, Australia, Romania and Argentina for cargoes that do not get shipped from Russia and Ukraine,” the official said.

How does climate change fit into this?

Besides the war in Ukraine, droughts and drier weather patterns have taken a toll on wheat production and contributed to rising prices.

According to the United States Department of Agriculture (USDA), as of July 1, the US, also one of the biggest wheat exporters, is forecast to yield “46.7 bushels per acre, down 0.1 bushels from last month and down 8.2 bushels from last year’s average yield of 54.9 bushels per acre”.

“If realised, the United States yield would be the lowest since 2015,” the USDA said.

In a report updated on August 14, the department wrote: “This year’s small crop is a product of long-term decline in US wheat acreage and widespread drought impacts on HRW [Hard Red Winter wheat] production in the Great Plains States. Total wheat supplies are forecast down 13 percent from the previous year, with larger beginning stocks dampening the effect of the smaller crop.”

For Canada, the world’s sixth-largest wheat producer, the USDA’s Foreign Agricultural Service found that for the 2026-2027 production year, total production is forecast to be 34.6 million metric tons (MMT) – also 13 percent lower than the year before – due to reduced planted area and a return to lower-than-average yields.

Amid the heatwaves that have hit European countries over the past three months, wheat production in the bloc has also reduced. According to COCERAL, the European association of trade in cereals, oilseeds, rice, pulses, olive oil, oils and fats, animal feed and agrosupply, the excessive heat is expected to reduce grain crops in 2026 by around 9 million tonnes to 286 million tonnes.

In a report published in July, COCERAL said: “The weather has started to affect corn pollination in the southern half of France and in Hungary. More damage is expected from the forecast heat in other parts of the EU.”

The El Nino weather pattern is also expected to bring drier-than-usual conditions to the Southern Hemisphere this year, with South Africa and Australia expected to experience droughts as a result.

What can be done to mitigate all this?

While the Russia-Ukraine war continues, in July 2022, the year the war started, a Black Sea Grain Initiative was brokered to allow for the safe exports of grain, food and fertiliser from Ukrainian ports to stabilise and lower global food prices.

While that agreement held, more than 1,000 ships full of grain and other foodstuffs left Ukraine, according to the EU. However, Russia ended the agreement in July 2023.

The answer to the current crisis is far from easy, experts say.

Bringing prices down now would necessitate a major shift in war strategy by both Russia and Ukraine, while the impact of climate change could be mitigated by governments implementing policies including improving water management on farms through the use of reservoirs to support drought-affected crops and reduce the loss of production.

Moreover, Glauber explained, while alternative routes exist to ship out grain from Russia and Ukraine, they are costly, adding that a return to a possible Black Sea Grain Initiative “would help calm wheat markets a lot”.

One answer may be for other countries to step in.

According to Glauber, during the 2022 global grain price surge, other wheat producing countries such as India exported more to make up for shortages.

“India, for example, had record exports in 2022. It’s probably less likely this year, just because of El Nino and other other factors affecting them, but they could also provide more wheat. I think the world wheat market proved very resilient in 2022, and I expect we’ll see the same in in 2026,” he said.

POINT REYES NATIONAL SEASHORE — For nearly 60 years, warring camps have battled one another for the soul of a wind-swept peninsula with breathtaking hills, rugged cliffs, granite outcroppings, oak forests and wide expanses of pasture land and beach.

Jutting off the coastline like an upside-down ice skate, the Point Reyes National Seashore is separated from the mainland by the San Andreas fault, which runs like a skate’s blade edge separating the Pacific and North American plates. The peninsula covers about 110 square miles — roughly five times the size of Manhattan.

Elephant seals and sea lions bark and breed on its sandy coves. Whales and sharks breach and hunt in the waters beyond the thick kelp forests that tickle its edges. And in its forests and on its grasslands, tule elk and mule deer graze, while bobcats and coyotes hunt for rabbits and mountain beavers.

But the peninsula 20 miles north of San Francisco also has been home to agriculture since the 1800s and is the site of one of the state’s fiercest land disputes — one that, contrary to the usual red-versus-blue scenario, pits Northern California liberals against other Northern California liberals.

On one side: beef ranchers and dairy operators who advocate sustainable and organic food and land practices; they note the seashore was established, in part, to preserve their way of life.

On the other: environmentalists who say the taxpayer-funded park is no place for commercial farming, and that the seashore should protect its rare and diverse wildlife and welcome the visitors who bicycle, hike and camp on its beaches, oak forests and grasslands.

For seven weeks last year, it seemed the interminable battle over the seashore had finally come to an end.

The family dog guards poultry at Niman family farm at the Point Reyes National Seashore.

(Josh Edelson / For The Times)

In January 2025, a settlement was announced with the National Park Service laying out how the park would function going forward. Natural landscapes and wildlife would take priority over agriculture. Eleven of 13 historic ranching families would leave and be made whole for their losses.

While no one involved really loved the deal or got everything they wanted, many were satisfied, said Jeff Miller, senior conservation advocate for the Center for Biological Diversity, one of the environmental groups involved in the settlement. “The ranchers walked away with a few million dollars and the tule elk get to stay.”

Then this year, the two remaining ranch and dairy families sued. The goal: to upend the deal announced in the waning days of the Biden administration.

The Trump administration, with its pro-meat, pro-cattle agenda, is taking notice.

Since 1962, when the seashore was established, there have been grumblings. The ranchers said the park service saddled them with excessive rules and regulations. The environmentalists said the ranchers brought in invasive plants with their feed, and that cattle fouled the soil and waterways.

But nearly everyone agrees that it was in 2012 when things really began to boil over. That year, the park service moved to shut down a local oyster farm, whose lease was expiring. In his decision to shut it down, Ken Salazar, then secretary of the Interior, promised the ranchers they could remain.

“These working ranches are a vibrant and compatible part of Point Reyes National Seashore,” he wrote in a memorandum, “and both now and in the future represent an important contribution to the Point Reyes’ superlative natural and cultural resources.”

But four years later, environmentalists sued the park service. They argued the cows had degraded the seashore with manure pollution and soil erosion, harming the native wildlife. The iconic tule elk, some of which were fenced in on the northern part of the peninsula to keep them from competing for grassland with cows, were dying off.

The environmentalists demanded the park service establish a new management plan.

They won. But the new plan, issued in 2021, favored the ranchers, extending them 20-year leases, and allowed for the killing of elk if they interfered with cattle.

A tule elk calf is seen with its herd along the Tomales Point Trail, part of the Point Reyes National Seashore.

(Josh Edelson / For The Times)

Once again, the environmentalists — the Resource Renewal Institute, the Center for Biological Diversity and the Western Watersheds Project — sued.

That’s what led to the settlement and the departure of the 11 ranch families and their workers. Each family is believed to have received between $2.5 million and $3 million, but exact amounts have not been divulged because of a nondisclosure agreement.

The 17,000 acres they vacated would be dedicated to conservation and ecological restoration — with a few cattle remaining to feast on invasive species.

But the two litigious families that did not join the settlement — the Evanses and the Nimans — have a different vision.

David Evans, who declined to be formally interviewed, told The Times while moving cattle in the seashore on his ATV that he hadn’t known anything about the settlement. The Evans clan has been running cattle on the peninsula for 150 years.

The other family, headed by Bill Niman and Nicolette Hahn Niman, came to their land comparatively recently.

Born in Minnesota, Bill Niman found himself in Bolinas in 1969, where he befriended lefty intellectuals who were critical of factory farming. In 1978, he and Orville Schell — who later became the dean of UC Berkeley’s School of Journalism — bought land and co-founded the Niman-Schell Ranch. They dedicated their business to raising pigs, and then cattle, in a humane and environmentally sound way.

Niman said he and Schell also wanted to preserve the land from developers and “wealthy people from the Central Valley,” who were moving to the area to build second homes, golf courses and four-lane highways.

In 1984, Niman and Schell sold their 206 acres to the National Park Service for $1.3 million and the promise that they could stay on the property until Niman, Schell or Niman’s older sister all died. They’re now at ages 81, 86 and 90.

Schell did not respond to a request for comment.

“Orville and I concluded that mortals should not own land like this,” Niman said. “It belongs in the hands of the people, because it’s too valuable to cut up and develop.”

The business, which Schell left in 1997, flourished: Alice Waters, at Chez Panisse, bought pork exclusively from Niman, as did Zuni Cafe in San Francisco. In 2009, he merged his company into Natural Food Holdings, which was later bought by Perdue Farms.

Bill Niman and Nicolette Hahn Niman sued the federal government to upend a settlement that paid other ranchers and dairy owners to leave Point Reyes National Seashore.

(Josh Edelson / For The Times)

In 2007, Niman and Hahn Niman started BN Ranch, specializing in organic, grass-fed beef and heritage turkeys. The company, which was bought by Blue Apron in 2017, has operations across the world. Niman later founded Bill Niman Farm LP, which raises grass-fed cows and chickens.

On a recent afternoon, sitting on the back porch of the Bolinas ranch house that Niman built, with a view of the Pacific in the distance, Niman and Hahn Niman — who is 22 years his junior — spoke about their decision to file the lawsuit, which argues the park service was negligent in its rule making.

The Nimans say the seashore’s founders explicitly included agriculture in their vision of the park. They noted that, according to the original charter, Congress could not take the land without the consent of landowners “so long as it remains in its natural state, or is used exclusively for ranching and dairying purposes.”

Hahn Niman also noted, at least five times over two interviews, that Point Reyes is a “seashore” and not a “park,” and therefore doesn’t have as many rules governing preservation. For instance, you can drive an off-road vehicle at Cape Hatteras National Seashore, but off-roading in Yosemite could land you in jail.

The Nimans hope that, should they win or settle, farmers and ranchers would again be allowed in the seashore. Their vision: a test kitchen of sorts that models how farming can, and should, be done.

“We’re really talking about a kind of agrarian model and a use of land that basically keeps this land in its natural state, where agriculture is practiced in harmony with wildlife and nature’s cycles,” said Hahn Niman, who wrote three books, including “Righteous Porkchop” about her work in the early 2000s as an environmental attorney for Robert F. Kennedy Jr.’s Waterkeeper Alliance.

The view from Chimney Rock at Point Reyes National Seashore, which covers about 110 square miles and includes a variety of habitats.

(Christie Hemm Klok / For The Times)

Elephant seals gather below Chimney Rock in Point Reyes.

(Christie Hemm Klok / For The Times)

Hahn Niman said she has spoken with Kennedy about the park, and he supports agriculture in the seashore. She added that Albert Straus, a private equity-backed organic dairy processor in Petaluma, also reached out to Kennedy.

“Straus made efforts to involve [Kennedy], because he was really trying to get help anywhere … and he knew Bobby and I had this connection,” Hahn Niman said. It was Straus who believed legal action might keep agriculture on the peninsula and suggested the Nimans consult an attorney.

According to media reports, Kennedy directly reached out to Interior Secretary Doug Burgum. The Department of Health and Human Services, which Kennedy heads, did not respond to requests for comment on Kennedy’s involvement.

The more important contacts, Bill Niman said, have been political appointees in the Interior Department, including Karen Budd-Falen, the agency’s No. 3, who built her legal career advocating for western ranchers, and Brenda Younkin, a senior advisor to the Bureau of Land Management who worked closely with western ranchers on federal livestock grazing issues.

“We were able to have deep and meaningful conversations because the two people that are on the point of this effort, Karen and Brenda, they understand ranching, pastoral relationships, and how to manage government lands in the best of ways,” he said.

Early this spring, a town hall was held at an elementary school at Point Reyes Station. Hundreds of people crammed into the school gym that April evening, and the debate over Point Reyes agitated into a low boil.

There was no agenda or presentation. Instead, the park service, Nature Conservancy, the Nimans’ and Evanses’ lawyers, a representative from the Coast Miwok tribe — the people who lived on the land before the ranchers — and about a dozen other interest groups handed out pamphlets, answered questions and displayed maps at folding tables ringing the hall.

It was hard to hear above the din. Apple Watches around the room warned of “dangerous” noise conditions.

Foodies and farmers railed against the settlement, saying the park’s new plan would destroy the food scene in west Marin County and kneecap the already struggling agrarian community.

“These aren’t factory farms. This is real amazing quality local food,” said Bronte Edwards, a Sonoma County-based sheep farmer. And she made this observation, Edwards said, “as a liberal-facing queer person that believes in climate science.”

Settlement critics noted that the pact meant that ranch employees, many of them Latinos with moderate incomes, lost their homes along with the ranch owners.

They also complained that the settlement was negotiated in secret among the park service, environmental groups and ranch families.

A male tule elk is seen along the Tomales Point Trail, part of the Point Reyes National Seashore.

(Josh Edelson / For The Times)

“It was all hush-hush,” said Stephanie Moreda-Arend, an ag-aligned podcaster.

Others at the town hall, however, expressed fury that the two remaining ranching families were now trying to upend the deal.

“I understand people have been here a long time. People fear change. I understand that feeling,” said Center for Biological Diversity’s Miller. But the settlement, he added, is done. The seashore is “not their property.”

As residents, activists, farmers and journalists squeezed and jostled through the crowd, holding court in one corner was Budd-Falen, the high-ranking official with the Interior Department.

Budd-Falen, a rancher from Wyoming, has stated publicly that grazing regulations are her passion and that she aims to increase the number of grazing allotments handed out to western ranchers on BLM land, and to no longer declare areas as critical habitat for endangered species.

Though she described the settlement as a done deal, she obliquely suggested changes might still be afoot. “How is it managed from this point forward?” she said of the pact. “You can’t create a good management idea unless you talk to the citizens and see what people want.”

She did not answer questions about the Nimans’ and Evanses’ suit, but when asked why she came to the gathering, she said, “I started hearing about the controversy. Then I started making calls to lands [the Bureau of Land Management] and then to the park service and saying, ‘You know, there’s lots of grumbling, what is going on?’

“And they told me, and I was like, ‘Oh, this sounds like an interesting project, something that we ought to be involved in, and really listen to these locals. And how can I help?’”

Backing the remaining ranchers in Point Reyes and their organic beef, cheese and butter is consistent with an administration that places the commercial cattle industry at the center of its public lands agenda and meat at the center of nutrition policy.

But local politicians and parties to the settlement say scrapping the Biden-era pact would require years of federal review and public engagement. Even if the ranchers have some political pull right now, incarnating their vision within the seashore “would be really difficult,” said Rep. Jared Huffman (D-San Rafael).

“They would have to change the law” that established the park and the park system, Huffman said, or “find many millions in funding to subsidize” a new process or management plan that would take on the Nimans’ and Evanses’ vision of model farm.

Given the administration’s zeal to push legal boundaries, especially when confronting perceived enemies — such as California environmentalists — he said, “You don’t want to put anything past them.”

Theresa Harlan, a Coast Miwok descendant who runs the Alliance for Felix Cove — an area in the park where her family had a home until ranchers kicked them out in the 1950s — said the effort to upend the settlement “is just opening up the wound” that had finally started to heal.

Rancher Bill Niman walks along his property at his ranch in Bolinas, Calif.

(Josh Edelson / For The Times)

Now that the cattle are gone, she’s seeing all kinds of native plants, such as coastal strawberries, Yerba Buena Blue-eyed grass and the Douglas iris with their stunning lavender petals. Some of them she hadn’t seen since she was a child.

Ken Boulay, the CEO of the Turtle Island Restoration Network, said it’s time to move forward and imagine what the park could be like without cattle and private ranches.

He noted the peninsula had once been home to animals such as pronghorn, sea otter, North American porcupine, Humboldt marten, gray wolf, American black bear, grizzlies, northern fur seal and Steller sea lion.

And it could be again — well maybe not the grizzlies or wolves. His organization is already restoring native plants and rebuilding natural waterways in parts of the peninsula.

“It’s time to stop thinking about cheese and yogurt,” he said.

Niman, driving his Rivian across the golden, wind-swept fields, said he has some concerns with the way Trump is dealing with foreign policy, immigrants and some broader environmental issues. But the administration “gets it” when it comes to Point Reyes and public lands.

And he’s heard they’re going to do something about it soon.

New Delhi, India – The vapour heat treatment (VHT) facility in Rehmanpur village of Lucknow, the capital of the northern Indian state of Uttar Pradesh – used to sterilise fruit and vegetables – was preparing for the busiest time of the year when Japanese quarantine inspectors turned up in March.

Export documents had been cleared, shipping schedules finalised, and growers in the western states of Maharashtra and Gujarat reserved their best Alphonso and Kesar mangoes for export to Japan, one of Asia’s premium markets.

Everything appeared set for the season to begin when production ground to a halt. Japanese inspectors reviewing the fumigation, disinfection and certification procedures raised concerns about the whole process, prompting Japan to suspend imports of the fruits.

However, on March 31, the plant protection authorities in Yokohama sent a formal letter, saying all Indian mango shipments bearing inspection certificates issued on or after March 25 would be barred until inspectors could confirm that operational standards had improved.

It was the first major disruption in India-Japan mango trade in nearly two decades. In 1986, imports of the fruit were barred over fruit fly concerns. Restrictions were lifted in 2006 after the country built VHT infrastructure, strengthened pest surveillance and agreed to annual inspections.

Japan ‘gave us credibility’

The 2026 halt now affects six approved varieties of mango – Alphonso, Kesar, Langra, Banganapalli, Chausa and Mallika – covering the peak export window of April through to June.

Japan imported roughly $1.54m worth of fresh and processed mango products from India between 2025 and 2026. It might appear to be a modest sum, but the Japanese market holds huge significance for the rest of the global trade. Japan pays premium prices for mangoes and the country’s approval signals quality to the rest of the world.

The suspension came at an already challenging time for mango farmers in India. Sustained heatwaves through the Konkan belt had destroyed much of Maharashtra’s Alphonso crop. Geopolitical disruptions in West Asia had pushed freight costs higher, and exporters who had spent years establishing relations with the Japanese suddenly faced cancelled contracts and inventories rotting in storage.

Vikram Shah, a Mumbai-based exporter who shipped about 2.5 tonnes of mangoes to Japan in 2025, highlighted the importance of its market.

“Japan was never our biggest market in terms of quantity, but it was the one that gave us credibility,” Shah told Al Jazeera. “We spent six years building trust with buyers there. I travelled to Osaka twice, sat with importers, visited their cold storage facilities and learned exactly what they expected from us. Relationships like that take years to build and can disappear in a single season.”

Rajesh Patil, an Alphonso grower in Ratnagiri, Maharashtra, said his family had cultivated mangoes on a three-acre (1.2-hectare) orchard along the Konkan coast for two generations. The Japanese market, he said, consistently delivered far higher returns than domestic auctions, leading him to invest heavily in meeting Japan’s stringent import standards.

“We upgraded the orchard because Japan rewarded quality,” Patil said. “I spent nearly ₹80,000 [$840] on grading and handling equipment, attended pest-management training sessions, and changed the way we harvest and pack fruit,” he told Al Jazeera.

“The Japanese market paid almost twice what I could earn locally. When you make those investments, you expect the system supporting exports to be as reliable as the fruit you grow.”

China objects to rice

On April 17, China revoked the import licences of three Indian rice exporters after the General Administration of Customs rejected their consignments, claiming traces of genetically modified organisms (GMO).

The exporters disputed the finding, pointing out that their shipments received GMO-free certification before their departure and that the Indian government also said all domestic paddy and rice fields are free of genetic modification.

Rice makes up more than 20 percent of India’s agricultural exports, with a record-breaking $12.5bn of it shipped in the last financial year (2025-26). The three suspended exporters now face an uncertain path back into China, rattling their community.

Agricultural and Processed Food Products Export Development Authority (APEDA), under India’s Ministry of Commerce and Industry, notified the companies and, on June 8, published a list of laboratories approved for GMO tests on China-bound shipments.

SK Singh, an agricultural scientist in New Delhi, told Al Jazeera the dispute exposed weaknesses in India’s testing system.

“Our labs built expertise in pesticide residue and aflatoxin testing because that’s what most markets wanted,” he said. “China’s demand for GMO verification calls for a different scale of capacity.”

The exporters’ certificates came from accredited labs even if the certification network remains uneven, he added.

Only a handful of facilities, concentrated in New Delhi and Hyderabad in the southeastern state of Telangana, run the required protein analysis, forcing exporters in northern Punjab and Haryana states to ship samples hundreds of kilometres away.

Fragmented supply chain

There were other warning signs before the crisis hit mangoes and rice.

Hong Kong suspended several Indian spice products over pesticide residues, and testing found quality deviations in nearly 12 percent of the samples. The European Union also raised the inspection frequency on Indian cumin to 30 percent in January 2025, following 312 spice alerts on its rapid alert system in 2024.

Ananya Bose, a food safety scientist in Kochi in the southern state of Kerala, traced the problem to a fragmented supply chain.

“A farmer sells to an aggregator, who sells to a trader, who supplies a processor. Somewhere in that chain, the record of what was sprayed disappears,” she said. “The trail is detailed until the first sale, then it effectively ends.”

Bose has pushed for mandatory digital pesticide records, since regulators abroad expect traceability from field to shipment, a standard many states still treat as optional.

These setbacks may read as isolated incidents, but they expose a gap between India’s agricultural strength and the traceability, food safety and certification standards that Japan, the EU, the United Kingdom, the United States and Canada now demand. Those standards are tightened by consumer pressure for transparency, climate-driven pest concerns, food-security strategy and the COVID pandemic.

At the same time, competitors have moved faster, with Thailand building a nationwide traceability programme, Vietnam investing in farmers’ training, and Brazil and Chile pouring money into cold-chain systems.

India’s progress has lagged with just 207 registered pack houses, 72 percent of them concentrated in Maharashtra. Moreover, scarce cold storage facilities and logistical costs eat up roughly 15 percent of export value, almost double that of advanced nations. Small farmers owning less than 2 hectares (5 acres) of land make up more than 86 percent of India’s cultivators, making standardisation difficult at scale.

“India built its strategy around producing more, while premium markets reward proving quality along the way,” agricultural economist Anil Gupta told Al Jazeera.

Gupta pointed to some real gains: recognised laboratories grew from 22 to 89 over the past decade, and approved export certificates climbed from roughly 61,000 to more than 170,000.

“The progress is measurable, but so is the scale of the challenge,” he said. “These improvements mark a beginning, well short of the finish line.”

Ujjwal Kumar Ghosh, a senior official in the government’s Department of Commerce, has called for tighter controls on antibiotic residues, pesticides and aflatoxins in spices, tea, fruits and vegetables. He said funds have been set aside to upgrade laboratories, though without a timeline.

“The government is strengthening the system from testing to inspection and traceability. We are tightening controls on antibiotic and pesticide residues and aflatoxins, expanding laboratory capacity, introducing risk-based inspections and using digital systems and rapid screening to identify problems faster. The objective is to help exporters meet stricter global food-safety standards while protecting India’s access to international markets,” said Ghosh.

India still holds just 2.4 percent of global agri-exports despite ranking as the world’s second-largest agricultural producer, with processed exports stuck near 17 percent, against 25 percent in the US and 50 percent in China.

And growers are facing the fallout.

Gujarat’s Kesar mango farmers lost their strongest Japanese buyer. A basmati rice farmer in Haryana’s Karnal said local prices had already dropped 8 percent. And a turmeric processor in Kerala’s Erode said residue testing cost him 15,000 rupees ($157) last quarter, almost 10 percent of his profit.

Agriculture still employs about 42 percent of India’s workforce while producing less than a fifth of the national output.

“This is about far more than a few rejected shipments,” Gupta said. “The countries that succeed will consistently meet the standards global buyers demand.”

Indian farmers have long proven they can grow for the world. The task now is building systems that convince the world to keep buying.

A fertiliser explosion at a farm in Essex triggered a major incident. Dozens of firefighters worked to contain the large industrial fire and protect nearby homes.

The United States Supreme Court has sided with the maker of Roundup weedkiller in a ruling expected to block thousands of lawsuits alleging it failed to warn people the product could cause cancer.

The ruling on Thursday was tied to a case that came before the justices after a tidal wave of litigation that included some multibillion-dollar verdicts against the global agrochemical manufacturer Bayer, a Germany-based company that acquired Roundup when it bought its original producer Monsanto in 2018.

The decision is a victory for US President Donald Trump’s administration, but one that could be tricky politically since allies in the “Make America Healthy Again” movement want to rein in pesticide use.

The high court, in a 7-2 ruling, found that the company cannot face failure-to-warn lawsuits in state courts because federal regulations have found a cancer link unlikely and do not require a warning label.

The justices overturned a jury verdict in Missouri awarding $1.25m to a man named John Durnell who said he was diagnosed with non-Hodgkin lymphoma after years of exposure to glyphosate in Roundup. The Supreme Court agreed with Bayer that a US law that governs pesticides precludes failure-to-warn claims that are brought under state law from moving forward in court.

Bayer shares jumped nearly 18 percent following the ruling.

Trump’s administration had backed Bayer in the case.

Conservative Justice Brett Kavanaugh, who authored the ruling, said the US Environmental Protection Agency, or EPA, has concluded glyphosate does not cause cancer and has not required a cancer warning on Roundup.

The law preempts Durnell’s claim because it “would require Monsanto to add a cancer warning to Roundup’s label even though federal law requires Monsanto to use the EPA-approved label without a cancer warning”, Kavanaugh wrote.

Liberal Justice Ketanji Brown Jackson, in a dissent joined by conservative Justice Neil Gorsuch, said that Durnell’s claim would impose equivalent labelling requirements on Monsanto that the federal law requires and so should not be preempted.

Jackson called the ruling “remarkable and regrettable, for it unjustifiably closes the courthouse doors to state tort plaintiffs like Durnell”.

Bayer acquired Roundup as part of its $63bn purchase of agrochemical company Monsanto in 2018. More than 100,000 plaintiffs have filed cases in US state and federal courts alleging a cancer link, and the German drugmaking and crop science company had said that the lawsuits could threaten its ability to supply the herbicide to farmers.

The torrent of litigation already prompted Bayer to remove glyphosate from its consumer version of Roundup. Bayer said before the Supreme Court ruled that a decision in its favour could largely end the Roundup litigation.

“The US Supreme Court decision is good for science, farmers, and industries that depend on regulatory clarity for innovation. It should help significantly contain the Roundup litigation after nearly a decade of legal battles. The ruling should result in the dismissal of current warning-based claims and bar future failure-to-warn claims,” Bayer spokesperson Tino Andresen said in a statement.

The company emphasised throughout the litigation that the EPA repeatedly found that glyphosate does not cause cancer and approved its product labels without a warning.

Facing billions of dollars in potential liability, Bayer announced in February a proposed $7.25bn settlement to resolve tens of thousands of current and future lawsuits. The settlement would not affect claims that stem from pending appeals or that fall outside the deal, according to the company. Those amount to nearly $1bn, it said.

‘Disaster for public health’

Environmental activists and others criticised the court’s ruling on Thursday.

“Once again, the Supreme Court has sided with big business over people and the environment. Today’s ruling is a disaster for public health,” said Tarah Heinzen, legal director at the advocacy group Food and Water Watch.

“The harm from this decision will perpetuate our cancer, infertility and general chronic disease epidemic for generations to come,” said Kelly Ryerson, co-executive director of advocacy group American Regeneration and a Make America Healthy Again activist who posts on social media under the moniker “The Glyphosate Girl”.

The sprawling dispute centres on a US law called the Federal Insecticide, Fungicide and Rodenticide Act, or FIFRA, that governs the sale and labelling of pesticides and bars states from imposing differing or additional requirements.

The measure prohibits pesticides that are “misbranded” with labels that lack an adequate warning to protect health and the environment.

Bayer has argued that Durnell’s claims are preempted by this law. The EPA has repeatedly approved labels without such a cancer warning, demonstrating that these products are not misbranded, the company said, adding that labels cannot be substantially changed without the agency’s approval.

Durnell’s lawyers said that despite the EPA’s registration of Roundup, the label may still be challenged as misbranded. They also said Durnell’s claims are not preempted because Missouri state law that requires products to adequately warn of dangers imposes the same requirements as FIFRA’s prohibition on misbranding.

‘A new era’

Union Investment fund manager Markus Manns called Thursday’s ruling a significant milestone for Bayer, adding that a decade after the Monsanto acquisition, the company is “entering a new era”.

“While future lawsuits are not entirely off the table, they will become considerably more difficult. A final breakthrough would come if the settlement is accepted by the plaintiffs and approved by the competent court in July. This would bring Bayer’s glyphosate litigation chapter to a definitive close, allowing management to fully refocus on operational and strategic matters,” Manns said.

Durnell sued Monsanto in Missouri state court in 2019, claiming it failed to warn users of the dangers associated with Roundup and glyphosate.

He was diagnosed with a rare and often aggressive form of non-Hodgkin lymphoma, a cancer that starts in the white blood cells, and attributed the disease to his exposure to Roundup starting in 1996. For about 20 years, he was the “spray guy” for a neighborhood association in St Louis, killing weeds at local parks without protective equipment, according to court papers.

A jury sided with Durnell in 2023, and in 2025, a state appeals court upheld that verdict.

Monduli, Tanzania – When drought wiped out most of her family’s livestock, 30-year-old Nesirkar Loongidong’i, a Maasai mother of four from Selela village in northern Tanzania, found herself with very few options. The dry season had already killed most of their animals.

Today, she makes a living growing and selling drought-resistant livestock fodder.

“Before I planted fodder, I lost most of our goats. Now, people come from other villages to buy grass, and I can support my children. I don’t fear drought anymore,” Loongidong’i told Al Jazeera.

With the income, she has built a house and bought five goats.

Loongidong’i’s story is part of a much larger and fast-growing shift. Across northern Tanzania, Maasai women, part of a community of about 430,000 people, are turning fodder production from a survival tactic into a climate-adaptation business. The work is coordinated by the Pastoral Women’s Council (PWC) and is spreading across pastoral districts.

The PWC is a women-led membership organisation working across three northeastern districts, covering more than 28,000 square kilometres (10,810 square miles) and serving about 456,000 people, most of them Maasai pastoralists. Founded in 1997, it now counts around 6,500 members in 90 villages, with years of work focused on land rights, economic empowerment, and girls’ education.

For Loongidong’i, it all comes down to growing pasture grass without irrigation. Because demand remains steady, so does her income, and with it, her household’s stability. Today, she lives in a home with a metal roof, and nearby, her goats graze in a fenced area as their numbers slowly grow again.

According to Tanzania’s Ministry of Livestock and Fisheries, at least 306,358 animals, including cattle, goats, sheep, and donkeys, died between September 2021 and January 2022 due to prolonged drought. In Simanjiro district alone, 92,047 livestock were lost, wiping out livelihoods across pastoral communities.

In response, the PWC established 10 major grass seed banks across eight villages in Monduli and Longido districts. Today, about 75 hectares (185 acres) are under fodder production, with another 37 hectares (90 acres) expected to be added in the 2025-2026 season. Around 250 women directly manage these farms, while thousands of herders now depend on them for feed during dry seasons.

The impact is already visible. In 2025, a single seed bank earned 6.6 million Tanzanian shillings (about $2,500) from seed sales, along with 1,111 hay bales sold at 6,000 shillings ($2.30) each. For many women, this has shifted their role from dependents to economic providers.

Backed by organisations such as the Global Fund for Women and Oxfam, the PWC is now seen as offering a replicable model for protecting a livestock economy worth millions of dollars.

This shift is no longer limited to survival. Across northern Tanzania, it is becoming a quiet but steady form of enterprise, reshaping daily life in pastoral communities.

From survival to business

In Longido and Monduli, deep in northern Tanzania, Maasai life has been slowly changing. As traditional grazing patterns weaken under worsening droughts, women are increasingly taking on roles once tied only to herding, now growing pasture for income on open communal land.

Loongidong’i explains that what began as a way to survive dry years has now become a reliable source of income for many women. In the past, planting hardy grasses such as Cenchrus ciliaris was simply about keeping livestock alive. Today, it is also a business.

To respond to declining rainfall, women grow resilient species such as Rhodes grass (Chloris gayana) and Masai love grass (Eragrostis superba) on designated community plots. These grasses stay green longer than natural pasture during dry periods. Once harvested, they are bundled and sold to local herders as animal feed.

“Seeds are also saved and traded later when demand rises,” Loongidong’i says, adding that this cycle now supports many households across arid areas.

Herding families also benefit during drought periods, when natural grazing disappears and these managed plots become a lifeline for livestock.

The seed bank project, managed by Naisho, the group Loongidong’i works with under the PWC, generated about 6.6 million Tanzanian shillings ($2,514) from seed sales, alongside more than 1,000 bales of grass. Small in scale, but steady in output, it has proven what organised local production can achieve.

For the Maasai, cattle are more than livestock; they are the centre of daily life, economy, and identity. When rains fail, the impact is immediate: animals weaken, and families struggle.

As in many pastoral communities, women carry much of the responsibility for daily survival, from food preparation to fetching water and caring for children. Now, alongside those roles, they are also becoming earners.

“Women who once depended entirely on their husbands now have their own income,” says Rachel Letiety, a founding member of the PWC. “Families are becoming more stable. Men are beginning to value women’s contributions, especially during droughts.”

Ongoing challenges

Still, the progress comes with challenges.

Loongidong’i says some farms are affected when weeds take over and when fences break, allowing livestock, and sometimes wild animals, to destroy carefully cultivated plots.

“I have seen invasive plants ruin large parts of our farms,” she says. “And sometimes animals enter and destroy what we have worked on for months. It is not easy to guard these fields every day.”

She also points to tensions within groups, where disagreements sometimes arise over responsibilities and how income is shared.

At present, with support from organisations such as Justdiggit, Trees for the Future, and Swissaid, around 200 women are directly involved in the project. Many more benefit indirectly, especially during drought periods when pasture becomes scarce.

“This work prevents our cattle from dying and keeps them healthy,” says Nairiyamu Laizer, a mother of three and secretary of the Naisho group. “It also helps sustain the bulls we raise.”

“If all women take up this opportunity, these projects can lift our economy,” she adds.

“We harvest the grass and sell it; some buyers use it for cattle feed, others for thatching houses. We also grind some of it into animal feed,” she says.

For Loongidong’i and many Maasai women, growing fodder is no longer just about surviving difficult seasons. It has become a new beginning, reshaping livelihoods and the place of women in pastoral life.

“Now women help bring money into their homes,” she says, “and families are becoming more stable.”

This article is published in collaboration with Egab.