Taiwanese farmers are celebrating a sudden surge in custard apple exports to China, but the joy is tempered by a gnawing anxiety: is Beijing using the fruit to tighten its economic grip on the island?
China announced last week it would resume imports of Taiwanese custard apples, lifting a ban imposed in 2021 over alleged pest issues. The move has provided a lifeline to growers in Taitung County, who saw prices collapse after losing their biggest market. But analysts warn the gesture masks a deeper strategy to create dependency, leaving Taiwan vulnerable to future coercion.
“It’s a classic carrot-and-stick approach,” said Chen Mei-ling, an economist at National Taiwan University. “China bans imports, prices crash, farmers suffer. Then China suddenly allows them back, and those farmers become Beijing’s strongest advocates for closer ties. It’s food security as leverage.”
Custard apples, known locally as “Buddha’s head” fruit, are a premium crop for southern Taiwan. Before the ban, China absorbed nearly 80% of the island’s annual production. When the ban hit, farmers were forced to dump tonnes of fruit or sell at a fraction of the cost. The pain was acute: incomes for smallholders in Taitung dropped by half.
Now, with China promising to buy again, prices have rebounded. But the win feels fragile. “We’re relieved, but we know this can change overnight,” said Lin Shui-wang, a farmer in Beinan Township. “We cannot put all our eggs in one basket again.”
The resumption follows a pattern. China has similarly lifted bans on other Taiwanese produce, such as pineapples and fish, only to reimpose them during political tensions. The tactic mirrors Beijing’s use of economic tools to influence Taiwan’s domestic politics, particularly ahead of elections.
Taiwan’s government has urged farmers to diversify markets, offering subsidies to export elsewhere. But alternative buyers in Japan, Singapore, or the United States cannot match China’s appetite. “We are funding trade missions, but it takes time,” said Agriculture Minister Chen Chi-chung. “The reality is China is the world’s largest market for custard apples.”
The dilemma highlights the uneven economic battlefield. Taiwan’s agricultural sector, once a pillar of its economy, now feels like a pawn. For the farmers, the calculus is harsh: accept Beijing’s goodwill, or risk a future of market uncertainty.
“We want to be independent, but independence does not feed my children,” said Lin as he packed a crate of glossy green fruit. “Right now, we just want to survive.”
China’s Customs Administration stated the decision was based on “scientific risk assessments” and that imports must comply with phytosanitary standards. But critics see the science as a cover for politics. “They can always find a bug,” said Chen.
As the custard apple harvest reaches its peak, Taiwanese farmers are holding their breath. The fruit is sweet, but the taste of dependency is bitter.