A little less than one in two rows of soybeans in the U.S. is grown for export with nearly one in three rows going to China. A farmer harvests crops in Presho, S.D., on Oct. 13, 2024.Andrew Burton/Getty Images
Tanner Hento doesn’t spend much time driving the tractor that tills and plants his fields. Autonomous control takes care of most of that work, adjusting the density of fertilizer and the population of seeds to soil conditions that can change dramatically within a hundred metres. ”You hit the start button and then you come back in six hours and the job’s done,” he says.
Usually, he devotes those hours to the complicated work of farm management – the layers of spreadsheets he has built to track local land ownership, fertilizer prices and undulations in commodity prices.
Now, he has a fearsome new task: trying to figure out how badly his livelihood will be altered by the raft of tariffs President Donald Trump has imposed.
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“It’s not just how much we’re making that is going down. It’s how much you have to spend that is going up.”
Mr. Hento lives just outside Avon, a South Dakota farming community halfway between Winnipeg and Dallas whose claim to fame – George McGovern, a Democratic presidential candidate trounced by Richard Nixon in 1972 – has not made it a place of national interest. “We were actually the birthplace of the largest presidential defeat in history,” Mr. Hento laughs.
But Avon, and the sprawl of farmland that extends across the heart of the U.S., has suddenly been thrust into a place of international importance: on the front lines of a global trade war. A little less than one in two rows of soybeans in the U.S. is grown for export. Nearly one in three rows goes to China.
“I can’t think of an industry that has been more quickly hit than agriculture,” Mr. Hento says.
He depends on overseas buyers – China, in particular – for the crops he grows and the prices they fetch. He depends on China, too, for many of the insecticides and fungicides he sprays.
He likens U.S. agriculture to the Titanic, which has just ”hit the iceberg, which is the tariffs. And we are two hours away from sinking.”
“That’s the stark reality.” But Mr. Hento’s worries are leavened by optimism.
Farmers harvest a field of corn near Salem, S.D., in October, 2024. More than 10 per cent of the South Dakota economy depends on exports, nearly three-quarters of which are made up of agricultural goods.Scott Olson/Getty Images
For farmers, tariffs will take time to be really felt. Most of this year’s seed, chemicals and fertilizers have already been purchased. It will be months before the harvest is ready. In the meantime, there is a lengthy moment to hope that the White House approach yields results.
“The long-term benefit to this is we’re going to eventually come out ahead, in the sense of more positive trade relations,” Mr. Hento said.
Mr. Trump’s tariffs have sent capital markets into wild gyrations, convulsed international diplomacy and prompted increasingly grim warnings from economists.
But across the country’s soybean and corn fields, Mr. Trump continues to enjoy goodwill.
The willingness of farmers to live through turbulence in hopes of future gains underscores a broader political reality for Mr. Trump: Despite the tumult of his return to office, he retains a considerable political latitude to pursue his economic agenda, at least for several months to come.
If Mr. Trump succeeds “and, because of these trade changes we bring more manufacturing home and we ultimately get better prices, he may go down as one of the best presidents,” said Mike Lauritsen, a former executive director of the South Dakota Republican party. “That was the kind of thing that Reagan did.”
At the same time, Mr. Trump must confront a reality that the prospect of long-term tariffs stands to inflict damage on some of the people who have been his most stalwart supporters.
Mitchell, S.D., is among those places caught between hope and fear. A small waypoint off Interstate 90, it has used agriculture to build itself into a destination that belies its population of 15,000. Its downtown is dominated by a Corn Palace whose exterior walls have for more than a century been decorated with cobs of different colours – this year, arranged to depict scenes like the Great Wall of China and the Statue of Liberty, a curiosity that draws tourists from far away.
The Corn Palace in Mitchell, S.D., in September, 2015. The small town off Interstate 90 with a population of 15,000 has used agriculture to build itself into a tourist destination.The Associated Press
Just south of town, meanwhile, workers and cranes are building a US$500-million processing centre that will turn soybeans and other crops into oil. It is ”the largest value-added agriculture economic development project in South Dakota history,” said Mr. Lauritsen, who is now CEO of the Mitchell Area Development Corporation.
But tariffs have brought uncertainty. Tour bus operators have told Mr. Lauritsen they can’t guarantee they will continue to deliver Canadian tourists next year. And work on the processing plant is being completed at a time when soybean prices have fallen.
“All of those things scare us, obviously,” Mr. Lauritsen said.
More than 10 per cent of the South Dakota economy depends on exports, nearly three-quarters of which are made up of agricultural goods. It is second only to North Dakota in its dependence on Canada as an export market.
Still, tariffs have ranked low even on the agenda of local liberals. On April 4, thousands of protesters took to streets across the state, holding signs like “Dangerous Oligarchs Grabbing Everything,” and “We are NOT OK! STOP the Authoritarian Takeover.” Organizer Craig Brown could not recall any signs protesting tariffs. New border levies have yet to strike at the price of goods, which means they can’t yet be felt by most consumers.
People are “not getting worked up about it just yet,” Mr. Brown said.
In the state capital, however, legislators are not so sanguine.
“This is setting off a lot of alarms,” said state representative Erik Muckey, a trained economist and Democrat who sits on the powerful appropriations committee. Other elements of Mr. Trump’s agenda have already begun to sting. Fully 43 per cent of the South Dakota budget depends on federal spending, some of which has already been cut.
Hurting agricultural exports will only make things worse, Mr. Muckey expects.
Tariffs have historically “proven devastating to our economy,” he said. If they remain in place, the financial pain “could be something the likes we haven’t seen in 100 years.”
It may prove enough, he said, to alter the political makeup of a state that has become a Republican juggernaut, which has said little about tariffs. Governor Larry Rhoden and his economic development officials “are actively monitoring the situation,” the state said in a statement, adding that it was seeking “to understand the potential impacts.”
South Dakota has risen to a place of unusual political importance in Mr. Trump’s second presidency, due in part to its former governor Kristi Noem's role as Secretary for Homeland Security.REBECCA NOBLE/AFP/Getty Images
No Democrat holds a senior state position in South Dakota, which has also risen to a place of unusual political importance in Mr. Trump’s second presidency. Former governor Kristi Noem is Secretary for Homeland Security. John Thune is now the most powerful person in the U.S. Senate. And Mr. Trump has nominated Luke Lindberg, who has served as president of South Dakota Trade, as Under Secretary of Agriculture for Trade and Foreign Agricultural Affairs.
That presence in Washington may make the people of South Dakota – a small population of less than a million – influential.
It may also make them a target.
When foreign countries imposed retaliatory tariffs in Mr. Trump’s first administration, many slapped levies on the bourbon that came from Kentucky, home of then-Senate majority leader Mitch McConnell. Today, that role is filled by Mr. Thune, who grew up in Murdo, S.D.
“So agriculture is going to get hit here,” said Matthew Roberts, an independent agricultural economist and public speaker. “The biggest fight here, of course, is with China, who is one of our biggest trade partners when it comes to agricultural goods. I think that inevitably agriculture is going to feel this.”
Farmer Scott VanderWal is already feeling it. He has yet to sell roughly half of last year’s corn crop. On a blustery afternoon this week, he sat in the cab of his semi-truck outside an ethanol plant, waiting to unload a hopper-bottom trailer. “We should have sold it all a month and a half ago,” he said. Prices rose above US$5 a bushel in February, before plunging 13 per cent in March. They have since staged a partial recovery, but the outlook isn’t great.
“Current prices for the ‘25 crop are at a loss,” Mr. VanderWal said. Soybeans are worse.
“China buys a lot of soybeans, and we need that market,” Mr. VanderWal said.
Soybeans are harvested south of Luverne, N.D., in October, 2018. China is a major buyer of North Dakota's soybean crop, and tariffs could directly threaten that market.DAN KOECK/The New York Times News Service
But he holds no ill will toward tariffs. He has been convinced by the White House message that reciprocal measures are needed to protect the U.S.
”We understand why President Trump is doing it,” he said.
Indeed, what the Trump administration is doing is “not meant to be any kind of adversarial relationship between countries,” adds Brett Kenzy, a South Dakota rancher who is past president of R-CALF USA, which advocates for the country’s independent cattle and sheep producers.
“It’s just a rebalancing, and a way to get towards more mutually beneficial trade.” He can see no harm in protectionism to protect domestic industries, either, which is why he hopes the tariffs remain in place long into the future.
If that hurts other countries – including Canada – it’s a price worth paying, he says.
“You need America to gets its house in order. Because we look really wealthy. But our debt is incredible, and you don’t want a third-world country on your southern border,” he said. “It’s no fun.”