By Professor Dato Dr Ahmad Ibrahim
Every time a housewife in Delhi opens a fresh bottle of cooking oil, or a family in rural China fries noodles for breakfast, they are benefiting from a quiet revolution that began not in the boardrooms of London or the farms of the American Midwest, but in the humid plantations of Malaysia.
Few can deny this uncomfortable truth: Before Malaysia’s intervention, the world was on the verge of a fats and oils crisis. Today, environmental activists in Brussels vilify palm oil as a villain. But looking at the data—and the geopolitics of hunger—one must conclude that palm oil, and the Malaysian pioneers who pushed it, have literally saved the global food supply from collapse.
It is a story of the great dependency. Consider the math. Most countries are net importers of edible oil. They do not have the temperate climate to grow soybeans, the land for sunflowers, or the infrastructure for rapeseed. They rely on the market. And for decades, that market was volatile.
Then there is India—a nation where a spike in ghee or vegetable oil prices has historically toppled state governments and sparked street riots. When supply chains hiccup, the poor go hungry. Enter palm oil. Unlike fragile soybean or sunflower oils, palm oil is prolific. One hectare of oil palm yields six to ten times more oil than a hectare of soybeans. It is the only crop capable of producing enough volume to satiate the gargantuan appetites of India and China at a price they can afford.
Without palm oil, the global edible oil deficit would be measured in tens of millions of tonnes. Without it, the riots in India would not be hypothetical; they would be a weekly headline.
The world must thank the Malaysian engine of palm oil expansion. But the fruit did not market itself. It is not far-fetched to suggest that Malaysia single-handedly made palm oil what it is today. Before the 1960s, palm oil was a minor curiosity—an African native crop overshadowed by soy, cottonseed, and butter. It was Malaysia that industrialised it. It was Malaysia that invested in the ruthless research and development (R&D) to improve yields, disease resistance, and milling efficiency. It was Malaysian companies that sailed across the straits to Indonesia, planting the seeds that would eventually turn their neighbour into the world’s largest producer. In fact it was Malaysia which, through good science, resolved many of the unsavoury narratives about palm oil. Admittedly, many among the competing oils were not thrilled by the sudden entry of palm oil on the world stage.
Indonesia may now hold the crown of volume, but it stands on Malaysian shoulders. Every major breakthrough in palm oil genetics, processing, and global logistics was pioneered in Kuala Lumpur and Johor. And when the West launched health scares against saturated fats, it was Malaysian marketing that pivoted, proving the oil’s balance and versatility, turning it into the backbone of the global processed food industry.
The world has developed a selective memory. The same European NGOs that demonise palm oil as the harbinger of deforestation conveniently ignore that switching to sunflower or rapeseed would require four times the land. Which is the greater ecological crime: using the most efficient crop, or plowing under the Amazon for soy? We should pay tribute. Palm oil saved the world from an acute shortage of oils and fats. It lifted millions out of poverty in Malaysia and Indonesia. It provided a stable, affordable commodity that allowed developing nations to feed their citizens without currency crises.
Yes, sustainability matters. No one defends the burning of primary rainforest. But the solution is not a boycott. The solution is to double down on Malaysian-style management: high-yield, science-driven, regulated agriculture. The latest development is that the oil palm may also be the crop that will cushion the impact of global threat of energy insecurity. So today, I raise a glass of cooking oil—golden, stable, efficient—to Malaysia. The world is not hungry thanks to you. It is time we said thank you.
The author is affiliated with the Tan Sri Omar Centre for STI Policy Studies at UCSI University and is an Adjunct Professor at the Ungku Aziz Centre for Development Studies, Universiti Malaya.
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