While the Trump trade war rattled giants, MENA quietly rewrote its playbook—reshaping supply chains, energy flows, and diplomacy. Not the main character, but still very much in the story.
Photo by Darcey Beau on Unsplash
Let’s take a step back. The Trump tariffs story is, at face value, a made-in-America narrative. But like most things in global trade, the ripple effects rarely stop at the country’s borders. And if we tilt the mirror towards the MENA region (Middle East and North Africa), a few under-reported angles emerge—quiet, but consequential.
When Donald Trump declared a trade war on China in 2018, much of the world watched with equal parts fascination and fear. What began as a volley of tariffs between the world’s two largest economies quickly escalated into a global supply chain earthquake.
The headlines were dominated by American soybean farmers and Chinese tech manufacturers. But further away from the frontline, in the Middle East and North Africa (MENA), a quiet recalibration was already underway. Not as collateral damage. Not as passive observers. But as agile opportunists navigating the cracks between giants.
In this corner of the world, Trump’s tariffs were less about drama and more about adaptation—shaping trade routes, energy partnerships, and manufacturing strategies in ways that largely escaped mainstream attention.
Trump’s tariffs targeted over US$350 billion worth of Chinese goods. The ripple effect sent global manufacturers scrambling to diversify. While much of the focus fell on Southeast Asia—Vietnam especially—parts of MENA quietly made their case as alternative supply bases.
Morocco, for example, has built one of Africa’s most advanced automotive hubs. Renault and Peugeot have expanded manufacturing capacity in the country, leveraging its proximity to Europe and favourable trade agreements. Morocco’s exports of passenger cars and parts surged 44% in 2022 alone.
Similarly, Egypt, already a heavyweight in textiles, saw its garment exports climb to US$2.5 billion in 2023, up from US$1.7 billion in 2019.
“The global supply chain needed insurance policies beyond China. MENA provided a natural hedge,” notes Dr. Karen Young, Senior Fellow at the Middle East Institute, in a 2023 panel on global trade realignment.
While Trump’s tariffs weren’t directly aimed at energy exports, they unintentionally reshaped global energy flows.
As Beijing retaliated against US energy products, China turned increasingly to MENA to secure its oil and gas needs. Saudi Arabia overtook Russia as China’s largest crude supplier by 2022, exporting over 87 million tonnes of crude oil to China.
The UAE, too, expanded its oil exports to Asia, while aggressively investing in refining and petrochemical infrastructure.
“The Gulf saw an opportunity to deepen energy partnerships while Washington and Beijing bickered,” observes Helima Croft, Global Head of Commodity Strategy at RBC Capital Markets.
In essence, MENA countries diversified their energy clientele, reducing dependency on Western markets while cementing new long-term contracts with Asia.
When Trump imposed global tariffs of 25% on steel and 10% on aluminium in 2018, MENA producers felt the pinch.
Turkey, once the sixth-largest steel exporter to the US, saw its exports plummet from 1.9 million metric tonnes in 2017 to under 300,000 tonnes by 2019.
The UAE, home to Emirates Global Aluminium, the largest industrial company outside oil and gas, also faced new barriers. Despite strong political ties with Washington, UAE aluminium exports to the US were not spared.
“The message was clear: even allies aren’t immune when trade becomes transactional,” said Fatima Al Kaabi, an aluminium industry executive, in an interview with Gulf Business.
These shocks forced MENA metal producers to seek alternative buyers in Asia and Europe, underscoring the vulnerability of over-reliance on US markets.
Trump’s trade war also intertwined with diplomatic manoeuvres in MENA. The most notable was the Abraham Accords in 2020, which normalised relations between Israel, the UAE, Bahrain, and later Morocco.
While framed as a peace initiative, the accords unlocked new trade and investment flows. In the first year alone, UAE-Israel trade exceeded US$1 billion, with sectors spanning agriculture, defence, and technology.
“It’s not just about normalisation—it’s about new supply chains and market access,” explains Kirsten Fontenrose, Senior Fellow at the Atlantic Council.
The Accords symbolised a broader regional pivot: MENA nations were betting on diversification—not just in products, but in politics.
Trump’s tariffs were noisy. MENA’s response was quiet, but deeply strategic.
The region didn’t dominate headlines, nor did it escape unscathed. But it learned to navigate chaos:
In a world where trade wars and great-power rivalries are the new normal, MENA’s playbook offers a lesson in pragmatic resilience.
“In the age of fragmentation, adaptability is power,” as aptly put by Dr. Sanam Vakil of Chatham House.
As the global economy continues its messy realignment, MENA may no longer be the silent spectator. It might just be the quiet strategist in the room—playing the long game, and perhaps, winning it.
In short:
MENA is not the main character, but it’s figured out how to stay in the story.
