As major Asian economies rush to appease Washington by ramping up imports of American oil and gas, they risk plunging headlong into a dangerous geopolitical trap—one that trades short-term tariff relief for long-term energy insecurity and economic inefficiency.

The logic may seem sound on the surface: faced with Donald Trump’s renewed threats of “reciprocal” tariffs, nations from India to Japan are seeking to placate the United States by dialing up purchases of U.S. crude, liquefied natural gas, and refined products.

But behind this surge lies a worrying miscalculation. What appears to be a diplomatic gesture could turn into an expensive mistake, reshaping global trade flows in ways that will haunt Asia’s energy strategy for years.

Asia is the engine of global energy demand, and the United States—buoyed by its shale revolution—now sits atop a vast surplus of exportable hydrocarbons. But this transpacific energy courtship is not happening in a vacuum.

The global oil market is already grappling with the massive reconfiguration that followed Russia’s invasion of Ukraine and the Western sanctions that followed.

Some 7.5 million barrels per day of Russian crude and products have been redirected in a reshuffle as dramatic as it is destabilizing.

Add to that the volatility stemming from American sanctions on Iran and Venezuela, and the global energy architecture begins to resemble a Jenga tower, destabilized not by market forces, but by political maneuvering.

And now, Asia is on the verge of triggering another seismic shift—this time voluntarily.

By courting U.S. energy in haste, Asian governments are creating the conditions for a new race among themselves, inflating import prices in a scramble for finite American volumes.

Worse, they are willingly turning away from cheaper, geographically closer suppliers in the Middle East—incurring higher freight costs and longer transit times, all in an effort to mollify a capricious Washington.

This is not energy security; this is geopolitical submission.

Bargain with the U.S. is no deal at all

To be clear, Trump’s tariff threats are real and damaging. But responding to them by overcommitting to costly U.S. energy only deepens Asia’s vulnerability.

It makes these economies hostage not just to American politics, but to a volatile, increasingly politicized global oil market.

Asia must think longer-term. Diversification of supply, regional energy cooperation, and investments in domestic renewables offer more sustainable paths to both security and sovereignty.

Otherwise, the region may find that escaping one kind of economic punishment simply invites another—this time, of its own making.

In their scramble to avert economic punishment from a second Trump presidency, emerging economies across South and Southeast Asia are offering up energy concessions with alarming haste—and, perhaps, even greater naiveté.

Washington’s weapon of choice? Punitive reciprocal tariffs.

The Trump campaign has made it clear that no country will be spared. But some are being singled out for special treatment. Cambodia and Vietnam face punitive duties of 49% and 46%, respectively.

Malaysia, Indonesia, and Thailand are staring down the barrel of tariffs ranging from 26% to 36%. India, long regarded as a strategic partner, has been threatened with a 26% levy.

Even Bangladesh—already grappling with macroeconomic headwinds—has been hit with a proposed 37% tariff. The message is unmistakable: submit to U.S. trade terms or face the consequences.

At the heart of this storm is suspicion. Washington believes that many of these countries serve as covert conduits for Chinese goods.

But instead of challenging that premise or demanding due process at the WTO, Asian capitals are rushing to make peace offerings—mainly in the form of energy imports—without a moment’s pause to evaluate what they are truly giving away.

And what they are giving away is strategic leverage.

Uneven, illogical terms

In a desperate bid to beat Trump’s 90-day deadline before the July 9 tariff hammer drops, countries are racing to secure bilateral trade arrangements with Washington.

The terms, however, are heavily skewed in favor of the United States. India, for example, is reportedly weighing the removal of its 2.75% import tax on LNG and 2.5% on ethane—concessions granted selectively for U.S. cargoes—as it looks to ramp up purchases from $15 billion to $25 billion annually.

Indonesia is drawing up plans to import $10 billion worth of American crude and LPG, as part of a broader $18–$19 billion trade package.

Thailand has committed to importing over one million tonnes of U.S. LNG annually for five years, plus hundreds of thousands of tonnes of U.S. ethane.

Even Pakistan—struggling under debt and political instability—is exploring a $1 billion deal for U.S. refined fuels.

The common thread here is not just the rushed diplomacy, but the utter lack of strategic clarity. These countries are treating U.S. hydrocarbons as bargaining chips to dodge tariffs—ignoring the stark reality that energy security is not a variable expense to be bartered away under pressure.

Worse still, this wave of panic buying sets off a dangerous new competition—this time, not with Western consumers, but with China.

Beijing remains America’s third-largest trade partner and Asia’s largest energy consumer.

In a world of limited LNG cargoes and volatile supply chains, what happens when Chinese firms, flush with capital and geopolitical clout, outbid their smaller Asian neighbors for the very molecules those neighbors were counting on to meet their obligations to Washington?

This is not just a question of economics. It is a matter of sovereignty. By offering energy market access as a pressure valve for American tariffs, Asian governments are giving up both pricing power and geopolitical room to maneuver.

They are, in effect, turning their national energy strategies into provisional chapters of U.S. foreign policy.

Bangladesh and its peers must not repeat the mistakes of past asymmetric deals. The rush to appease should not come at the expense of long-term resilience.

As the geopolitics of energy shift beneath our feet, now is the time for strategic patience—not submission.

Victims of the battle of the titans

As South and Southeast Asian economies scramble to shield themselves from the looming blow of Trump-era "reciprocal tariffs," a much larger geopolitical game is unfolding—one that could leave smaller Asian nations squeezed between two economic giants and a narrowing window of strategic choice.

The United States and China are locked in a bitter trade war, each having already lobbed steep tariff salvos across the Pacific.

Chinese exports to the U.S. are now slapped with a staggering 145% import duty—with a few narrow exemptions—while Beijing has retaliated with 125% duties on American goods. In this hostile environment, energy trade has become collateral damage.

China, once a key buyer of American oil and LNG, has now nearly shut off its purchases entirely.

This impasse is unlikely to last forever. Negotiations are inevitable—even if both sides currently posture with maximalist demands. When talks resume, China is expected to reprise its earlier strategy: offer to ramp up energy imports from the U.S. as a goodwill gesture to defuse tensions.

Should that happen, Beijing could swiftly lock up a sizable chunk of America's exportable oil and gas—leaving other Asian nations in the lurch.

China is not the only heavyweight in the room. The European Union, under its own tariff siege from Washington—including existing 25% levies on steel, aluminum, and autos—is likewise maneuvering to secure favorable access to American energy as part of broader trade negotiations.

This means Asia’s smaller economies are not just competing with each other, but also with geopolitical blocs that carry far more leverage—and move faster in bilateral deals.

And yet, amid this frenzy to curry favor with the U.S., a crucial reality is being overlooked: America's energy bonanza is not infinite.

Looking far ahead

The shale revolution, which made the U.S. the world’s largest oil and gas exporter, is nearing its peak. The U.S. Energy Information Administration forecasts domestic crude production to top out at 14 million barrels a day by 2027.

After that, output will plateau for a brief period—before the inevitable decline. If oil prices soften, as they are expected to in a slowing global economy, that peak could arrive earlier and fall faster. Shale oil is notoriously price-sensitive, and the economics are already tightening.

Natural gas may enjoy a slightly longer boom, with output expected to crest by 2032. But here too, there are caveats.

As new LNG export terminals come online, competition for U.S. gas will heat up, driving domestic prices higher.

For the price-sensitive economies of emerging Asia—Bangladesh included—this could render American LNG an increasingly expensive and unstable proposition.

Yet, policymakers from Jakarta to Dhaka, Delhi to Bangkok, are racing to sign energy import deals with Washington as though the U.S. supply boom will last forever—and as if it will always be offered on favorable terms. It won’t.

In doing so, they are making a bet they cannot afford to lose. One that binds their long-term energy security to a single, distant supplier—subject to the political and economic whims of Washington—and leaves them dangerously exposed to future price spikes, supply shortages, and diplomatic fallout.

Asia’s governments must wake up to the full ramifications of this rush to appease. Rather than concentrating trade concessions almost exclusively in the energy sector, a more balanced approach is needed.

Purchase commitments should be spread across sectors—high-tech goods, agri-commodities, aviation equipment—to create diversified leverage without compromising energy affordability and supply resilience.

For Bangladesh and its regional peers, this is a pivotal moment. The choice is not between American tariffs and American energy.

It is between strategic autonomy and strategic dependence. And the window to make the right call is closing fast.

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Md Sazzad Amin is an entrepreneur and an armchair political analyst