- Posted on 3 Apr 2026
- 4-minute read
By Marina Zhang
Europe can provide capital, technology and market access, but it cannot quickly replace China’s unmatched role as a buyer, processor and integrated industrial ecosystem.
share_windows This article appeared in The Diplomat on April 3 2026.
The Australia-EU free-trade agreement, concluded in March 2026 after eight years of negotiation, has been widely hailed as a landmark step toward supply chain resilience in critical minerals. For Canberra, it promises tariff-free access to the European market for lithium, antimony, tungsten, and rare earths; deeper investment in downstream industries; and a formal upgrade to the 2024 Strategic Partnership on Sustainable Critical Minerals. For Brussels, it secures a stable, like-minded supplier of the raw materials essential to green manufacturing, defence technology, and the energy transition.
Viewed as part of the Western push to de-risk from concentrated supply chains, the pact is politically meaningful and economically worthwhile. But it is not a quick fix — and it certainly does not end Australia’s deep, structural dependence on China.
Europe wants to reduce over-reliance on single suppliers; Australia wants to broaden its customer base, attract processing investment, and move beyond simply digging and shipping ore. Resources Minister Madeleine King has highlighted Australia’s ambition: 49 mining projects and 29 midstream processing ventures seeking investment, with critical minerals export earnings projected to reach A$18 billion in 2026-27. This is welcome proof that Canberra has moved beyond symbolic communiqués to tangible industrial ambition. Yet China built its dominant position over 40 years of deliberate industrial policy, scale investment and ecosystem building. As King rightly pointed out, Australia is attempting to compress that transformation into a much shorter political timeline — a mismatch that the EU pact alone cannot resolve.
The deal also reflects a wider shift in the global economy. China’s structural concentration was built in an era when governments treated interdependence as stabilizing and efficiency as the organizing principle. The shocks of the COVID-19 pandemic, the war in Ukraine, and Chinese export controls exposed the downside of that concentration. Supply chains that once looked efficient began to look strategically brittle.
For nearly a decade since the first Trump’s administration, diversification has meant spreading risk across an increasingly fragmented world order. Political alignment is now more important than market efficiency.
However, in this joint effort, the most stubborn barrier is not geology, but industrial ecosystem. Australia has abundant critical minerals reserves, but China dominates the indispensable middle of the supply chain: refining, chemical conversion, separation, and advanced manufacturing. The data is stark. China absorbed 97 percent of Australia’s spodumene (lithium) exports. In rare earths, the International Energy Agency estimates China controls roughly 70 percent of mining, 90 percent of rare earth separation and refining, and 93 percent of permanent magnet production. For antimony, China holds more than 75 percent of global refining capacity. Tungsten tells the same story: China produces more than 80 percent of global output and hosts four of the world’s five large-scale refineries. Australia may be rich in ores, but it lacks the domestic processing capacity to turn them into intermediate products. As a result, it remains locked into sending raw concentrate abroad – overwhelmingly to China.
Complicating this further is the by-product nature of many critical minerals. Gallium comes from aluminum refining, germanium from zinc processing, tellurium from copper, tungsten from copper, and antimony from polymetallic ores. These materials are not mined independently; they depend on large, integrated metallurgical systems that China has spent decades constructing. Upstream diversification – funding new mines – does not automatically create midstream independence in processing and manufacturing. A country can expand its mine-gate customers while remaining just as dependent on the nation that controls the refining ecosystem.
Three further roadblocks reinforce why the EU deal cannot deliver rapid change. First is capital. Western investors typically seek returns within three years, while greenfield mines and processing facilities require a decade or more of patient funding. Most supply growth still comes from expanding existing projects, not new developments, leaving diversification highly path-dependent.
Second is energy. Refining is extremely energy-intensive: antimony requires sustained temperatures above 1,200 degrees Celsius, and tungsten processing demands furnaces capable of withstanding 3,400 degrees C and corrosive chemicals. High power prices, unstable grids, and weak industrial infrastructure in both Australia and Europe are not minor hurdles – they are foundational constraints.
Third is sheer scale. Europe can provide capital, technology, and market access, but it cannot quickly replace China’s unmatched role as a buyer, processor, and integrated industrial ecosystem.
For Australian policymakers, the lesson is clear: the EU pact should not be oversold as an instrument of decoupling from China. Europe comfortably speaks the language of de-risking, but Australia lives in a region where economic and strategic realities intersect directly with China. Framing the agreement as resilience rather than separation is more prudent.
Australia should focus on select strategic niches – specialized rare earth products, targeted midstream processing, cleaner refining technologies, and high-ESG premium supply – rather than overstretching to replicate China’s entire ecosystem. Allies must move beyond statements of concern to coordinated action: pooled demand, long-term offtake agreements, common standards, and shared financial risk. Strategic reserves, like Australia’s A$1.2 billion fund, act as useful insurance against shocks but cannot build refineries or manufacturing plants. Above all, policy must confront the energy challenge. Without reliable, affordable electricity, large-scale processing will remain uncompetitive in Australia, no matter how many trade deals are signed.
The Australia–EU critical minerals deal is a thoughtful, necessary blueprint for a more resilient future. In a fragmenting global order, political alignment is reshaping economic structure. But the deal identifies a destination, not a clear path forward. The West is not short of mineral deposits; it is short of diversified refining ecosystems, patient capital, engineering capacity, stable low-cost energy and coordinated allied demand.
For Australia, the EU deal is a good beginning. It is not a solution — and it will not quickly fix Australia’s China dependence.
