Tag Archive for: Donald Trump

Trump’s tariffs: Australia’s worry is the effect on its trading partners

With the execution of global reciprocal tariffs, US President Donald Trump has issued his ‘declaration of economic independence for America’. The immediate direct effect on the Australian economy will likely be small, with more risk from the confluence of tariffs on its key trading partners. But the global effects of the United States’ tariff regime will extend beyond the economic effects, with implications for America’s reputation as a trusted and reliable partner. All the while, China stands ready to fill the gap.

With Trump’s latest executive order, from midnight on 3 April the US will impose far-reaching tariffs on other countries to compensate for the alleged combined impact of foreign countries’ tariffs and non-tariff barriers on US exports. Emphasising the ‘fairness’ of the approach in a White House Rose Garden address on 2 April, Trump said the reciprocal tariffs of up to 50 percent equated to just half of the trade measures levied by those countries against America. These were complemented by a baseline tariff of 10 percent on goods from every country—except for Canada and Mexico, which are already subject to tariffs of 25 percent. The 10 percent would not be added to goods already subject to tariffs, such as semiconductors, steel and aluminium.

The 10 percent levied against Australian goods exports to the US will likely have a minimal impact on Australia’s economy, despite being estimated to constitute a direct cost the Australian industry of US$1.6 billion. Speaking to the media after the tariff announcement, Prime Minister Anthony Albanese said the tariffs were unwarranted and ‘not the act of a friend’. But he also sought to reassure, noting the exports constituted less than 5 percent (US$16.6 billion) of Australian goods exports. By comparison, more than 30 percent of Australia’s exports are sold to China.

Australia provides duty free access to US imports under the 2005 Australia-US Free Trade Agreement. However, the Trump administration’s concern with Australia is likely with what it considers non-tariff barriers as outlined in the findings of the USTR report on Foreign Trade Barriers (PDF), of 1 April. The report details several longstanding US concerns with Australian biosecurity regulations on agricultural products (certain meat and fruit imports), issues with Australia’s policies on pharmaceuticals (which mandate a price for drugs under the Pharmaceutical Benefits Scheme) and payment for news content on social media. While it doesn’t mention Australia’s recent social media protections for children, this has also been raised by the US tech industry as a non-trade barrier.

The 10 percent tariff scenario will impose short-term direct costs on Australian industry. Most affected will likely be Australian beef and other meat products, exports of which to the US were worth US$4 billion in 2024 and accounted for more than a quarter of US imports of foreign beef. The US has been Australia’s largest market for beef in recent years. Despite having a large beef industry, the US relies on certain imported beef products. This could give a degree of leverage as Canberra progresses long running negotiations with Washington on the issue. Albanese has ruled out any compromise on other US concerns, in particular social media protections and the Pharmaceutical Benefits Scheme.

Australia’s trade-exposed economy will be more vulnerable to second and third order effects as some of Australia’s key trade partners respond to these new tariffs. While tit-for-tat tariffs may depress the Australian economy, greater impact will likely come from regional partners adapting trade strategies and adjusting supply-chains to minimise their exposure, and from businesses delaying investment decisions due to uncertainty around US and other governments’ policies.

Four of Australia’s top five trading partners, accounting for 44.3 percent of Australia’s two-way trade in 2023–24, are subject to higher US tariffs: China (a 34 percent tariff), Japan (24 percent), South Korea (26 percent) and India (27 percent). Developing or emerging economies, such as Vietnam (46 percent) and Indonesia (32 percent), will likely find it harder to absorb the effect of tariffs, due to their reliance on export-driven growth and deep integration in global manufacturing supply chains. The resumption on 2 April of exclusion of goods from China and Hong Kong from duty-free de minimis treatment will be an additional hit to the Chinese economy.

The Indo-Pacific is home to most of the world’s people. It accounts for 60 percent of global GDP and two-thirds of global economic growth. Since former president Barack Obama’s much vaunted Pivot to Asia from 2011, the US has sought to focus more strongly on the region for strategic and economic reasons. Despite some efforts such as the Indo-Pacific Economic Framework, US protectionism has hampered meaningful progress on US trade with the region. By comparison, China is likely the top trading partner for most countries in the world, particularly in Asia. As China actively competes with the US for influence with these countries, steep US tariffs on their exports may cause them to orientate away from the US market, deepening this trend. Tariffs will undermine US efforts to establish itself as a preferred partner in the Indo-Pacific region while providing China with ammunition to support its claims of American self-interest and unreliability.

This article has been corrected in several places. It now says the direct cost to Australian industry from Trump’s tariff on Australia is estimated at US$1.6 billion, that it will likely have minimal economic impact, that the administration’s Australian concern is likely with what it sees as non-tariff barriers, that Australian pharmaceutical price regulation applies not only to imported pharmaceuticals, and that the tariff on India is 27 percent.

Diplomacy is the newest front in the Russia-Ukraine war

The war between Russia and Ukraine continues unabated. Neither side is in a position to achieve its stated objectives through military force. But now there is significant diplomatic activity as well.

Ukraine has agreed to a 30-day ceasefire, in large part to patch up relations with US President Donald Trump’s administration, which unravelled during a 28 February Oval Office confrontation between Trump and Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelensky. Russia rejected the ceasefire proposal, instead suggesting (but not implementing) a prohibition on attacking energy infrastructure. Both sides also indicated a readiness to accept a ceasefire in the Black Sea, but with Russia linking its support to a relaxation of sanctions, it is far from clear when—or even if—such a limited ceasefire would start, much less what it would encompass.

Such partial steps, if implemented, could be a way-station to something more significant. But it is at least equally possible that partial steps would not lead to a comprehensive peace agreement. Russia could prosecute the war even if the Black Sea were not an active theatre.

The biggest question remains US policy. The Trump administration has used a combination of pressure and incentives to persuade the two sides to stop fighting. But its approach has been skewed toward offering benefits to Russia while bringing heavy pressure to bear on Ukraine.

To be clear, it is appropriate to offer Russia certain incentives. This could include a willingness to resume high-level contacts and restaff embassies, support for limited relaxation of sanctions if specified conditions are met, and to allow Russia to keep its long-term objectives for Ukraine on the table.

What is not acceptable is to embrace flawed Russian positions, such as its claims to Crimea, Donetsk, Luhansk, Kherson and Zaporizhzhia based on the results of illegal referenda conducted by Russian occupation forces. It is one thing for Trump’s envoy to the Kremlin, the property-developer-turned-novice-diplomat Steve Witkoff, to characterise Russia’s stance and quite another for him to adopt it as his own.

More broadly, there is no good reason to introduce final-status considerations at this point. The goal for now should be an open-ended ceasefire agreement, not a permanent peace treaty. In this instance, excessive ambition is likely to be the enemy of the possible.

To achieve a cessation of hostilities, the agreement ought to be as clean and simple as possible. Only two elements are essential for a viable ceasefire: a cessation of all hostilities, and a separation of forces, ideally with a peacekeeping contingent between them.

Everything else, including the disposition of territory and populations, should be left for final-status negotiations. For now, both sides should be allowed to arm or agree to security arrangements with third parties. Nothing should be done to preclude measures that would buttress a ceasefire. Russia should be permitted to retain North Korean troops on its territory; Ukraine could invite forces from European countries.

What is essential is for the United States to continue providing military and intelligence support to Ukraine. Such support is the only way to convince Russian President Vladimir Putin that further stalling is not in his interest, and is essential to Ukraine’s ability to deter renewed Russian aggression even if there is a ceasefire agreement. But it need not be unlimited: such US assistance has totalled around US$40 billion a year for three years—a level that is likely to suffice for the foreseeable future.

The goal should be to give Ukraine what it needs to deter and defend against Russian aggression, not to liberate its lands. To assert, as Witkoff did, that there is no reason to worry about renewed Russian aggression is not serious. After all, the current war is Russia’s second invasion of Ukraine since 2014, when it illegally annexed Crimea. Given Putin’s intentions, what matters are capabilities.

Matters could come to a head by summer, when the pipeline of congressionally-approved arms for Ukraine runs out. The Trump administration will have to decide (if it has not already done so) on the connection between the security relationship with Ukraine and US diplomacy.

As we attempt to discern what the administration will choose to do, the February 2020 deal that the first Trump administration signed with the Taliban should give us pause. The agreement was negotiated over the head of the US’s Afghan partners through direct talks with the Taliban, paving the way for the Taliban’s swift takeover of Afghanistan a year and a half later. One can only hope that the price President Joe Biden paid, both domestically and internationally, for implementing Trump’s deal will lead Trump to think twice before abandoning Ukraine to a similar fate.

Trump should also keep in mind that abandoning Ukraine would not bring peace. Zelensky, who is more popular than ever at home (thanks in no small part to the infamous Oval Office meeting) would likely opt for no ceasefire or peace treaty rather than one that compromised Ukraine’s core interests. It could fight on in one form or another for years using domestically produced arms and weapons imported from Europe and Asia—and, free of US restrictions as a condition of aid, it might even be tempted to act more aggressively in its choice of targets within Russia.

At the same time, Russia would most likely view US separation from Ukraine as an opportunity to press or even escalate militarily. Far from bringing peace, a US military cutoff of Ukraine could actually bring about an escalation in the fighting.

The stakes are high, and not just for Ukraine. What plays out with Russia will have a significant effect on the future of Europe, on whether China uses force against Taiwan, or North Korea against South Korea, and on how the US is perceived both by its friends and enemies around the world.

The world can still keep Trump in check

US President Donald Trump has shown a callous disregard for the checks and balances that have long protected American democracy. As the self-described ‘king’ makes a momentous power grab, much of the world watches anxiously, aware that his administration’s growing illegality and corruption is eroding not only the US Constitution but what remains of the post-1945 international order. A return to great-power spheres of interest looks increasingly likely.

But foreign governments, businesses and civil-society groups have more power than they think in the face of a revisionist United States. They can take five steps to create external checks and balances on the Trump administration and on anti-democratic forces more broadly. Anti-democratic forces around the world cast a long shadow, but with a boost of courage and the strength of solidarity, pro-democracy coalitions can come together to fight for the light.

The first step is to unite and make as much noise as possible. Would-be autocrats depend on divide-and-rule tactics, maximising fear by convincing individuals and governments that they alone are on the chopping block. Imagine if all governments in the Americas (with a few exceptions, such as Argentina) denounced Trump’s designs on the Panama Canal and Canada, loudly and repeatedly, and refused to refer to the Gulf of Mexico as the Gulf of America. Indeed, they could collectively rename it the Gulf of the Americas.

Another option is for all the Association of Southeast Asian Nations and European Union governments to issue a joint statement repudiating Trump’s claim that Ukraine started the war with Russia, instead insisting on the truth: Russia violated Ukraine’s territorial sovereignty. The Organization of Islamic Cooperation’s 57 members could collectively introduce a censure resolution in the United Nations General Assembly condemning any suggestion of expelling all Palestinians from Gaza, as Trump casually suggested last month, while reaffirming a collective commitment to a Palestinian state.

It may prove even more consequential if European countries (EU members plus Switzerland, Britain and Norway) joined strategic partners such as Canada, Japan, South Korea and Australia in outlining the global chaos that Trump will unleash if he tries to take Greenland by force, thereby legitimising war as a foreign-policy tool. These denunciations should be issued repeatedly in all appropriate international forums.

The second step is to push back hard on Trump’s provocations, escalating to absurdity. If the US raises tariffs from 100 percent to 200 percent, governments should announce that they are raising them to 400 percent. This is a game of chicken, not a negotiation. The US may be the world’s largest economy, with a GDP of nearly US$28 trillion, but the combined economies of the EU member states, Britain, Norway, Switzerland, Canada, Mexico, Japan, South Korea and Australia are 25 percent larger, totalling nearly US$35 trillion. Instead of coming to the White House with hat in hand and flattery at the ready, hoping to get an exemption from the coming trade wars, world leaders would be better off presenting a united front.

Third, use law to counter Trump’s lawlessness. The rule of law is not simply a code of conduct approved by duly constituted authorities. It is an entire system designed to channel dispute away from the battlefield and into the courts, to replace armed combat with legal jousting before an impartial referee. To the extent that the Trump administration ignores or rejects national and international law, foreign governments, businesses and civil-society groups should use their own courts to make their case and enforce their rights.

Lawfare could be especially useful for fighting corruption and economic malfeasance. When the actions of US officials violate cross-border contracts or give illegal advantage in international business deals, local prosecutors should apply their national law. This could help create a ‘zone of law’ for global commerce. But under no circumstances should they engage in vendettas or politically motivated prosecutions.

The fourth step other countries must take is to create a thriving domestic tech sector. This requires time, but few things are more important over the longer term. Governments and citizens should have options other than US or Chinese tech, particularly in the AI phase of the digital revolution. Moreover, as the EU well knows, competing with the existing tech giants requires the removal of trade barriers and the integration of capital markets, both important steps toward enhancing regional power on the global stage.

Lastly, the Trump administration has made clear its disdain for multilateral institutions, having rejected the UN’s sustainable development goals and questioning whether UN agencies’ projects ‘reinforce US sovereignty by limiting reliance on international organizations or global governance structures.’ Other countries—especially rising middle powers—should seize this moment to take over these institutions and make them their own.

It is time, for example, to give up on the UN Security Council. The permanent members will never agree to reform it and will continue to veto resolutions affecting their own interests, as the UN’s founders expected. Russia’s veto in the Security Council means that the General Assembly has already become the primary forum for addressing issues regarding the Russian invasion of Ukraine.

Rising middle powers such as India, Brazil, Mexico, South Africa, Nigeria, Egypt, Indonesia and Saudi Arabia should seize the opportunity of great-power deadlock or collusion to align global institutions with the actual configuration of power in the world. They should insist on equal representation and promote decision-making based on weighted majority rule, which would give every country a genuine voice. The EU would have much to gain by supporting such reforms, but even if it does not, an international system designed by the victors of World War II must either change or sink into irrelevance.

These are radical moves. But the leader of the world’s most powerful country is implementing a radical agenda. The US system of checks and balances is the primary means of protecting democracy. The world can help.

Trump could make Asia more united

US President Donald Trump has raised the spectre of economic and geopolitical turmoil in Asia. While individual countries have few options for pushing back against Trump’s transactional diplomacy, protectionist trade policies and erratic decision-making, a unified region has a fighting chance.

The challenges are formidable. Trump’s crude, bullying approach to long-term allies is casting serious doubt on the viability of the United States’ decades-old security commitments, on which many Asian countries depend. Worse, the US’s treaty allies (Japan, South Korea and the Philippines) and its strategic partner (Taiwan) fear that Trump could actively undermine their security, such as by offering concessions to China or North Korea.

Meanwhile, Trump’s aggressive efforts to reshape the global trading system, including by pressuring foreign firms to move their manufacturing to the US, have disrupted world markets and generated considerable policy uncertainty. This threatens to undermine growth and financial stability in Asian economies, particularly those running large trade surpluses with the US—such as China, India, Japan, South Korea and countries in the Association of Southeast Asian Nations.

Currency depreciation may offset some of the tariffs’ impact. But if the Trump administration follows through with its apparent plans to weaken the US dollar, surplus countries will lose even this partial respite, and their trade balances will deteriorate. While some might be tempted to implement retaliatory tariffs, this would only compound the harm to their export-driven industries.

Acting individually, Asian countries have limited leverage not only in trade negotiations with the US, but also in broader economic or diplomatic disputes. But by strengthening strategic and security cooperation—using platforms such as ASEAN, ASEAN+3 (with China, Japan and South Korea), and the East Asia Summit—they can build a buffer against US policy uncertainty and rising geopolitical tensions. And by deepening trade and financial integration, they can reduce their dependence on the US market and improve their economies’ resilience.

One priority should be to diversify trade partnerships through multilateral free-trade agreements. This means, for starters, strengthening the Comprehensive and Progressive Agreement for Trans-Pacific Partnership—which includes Australia, Brunei Darussalam, Canada, Chile, Japan, Malaysia, Mexico, New Zealand, Peru, Singapore, Britain and Vietnam—such as by expanding its ranks. China and South Korea have expressed interest in joining.

The Regional Comprehensive Economic Partnership—comprising the 10 ASEAN economies, plus Australia, China, Japan, New Zealand and South Korea—should also be enhanced, through stronger trade and investment rules and, potentially, the addition of India. Given the Asia-Pacific’s tremendous economic dynamism, more robust regional trade arrangements could serve as a powerful counterbalance to US protectionism.

Asia has other options to bolster intra-regional trade. China, Japan and South Korea should resume negotiations for their own free-trade agreement. Japan and South Korea are a natural fit, given their geographic proximity and shared democratic values. The inclusion of China raises some challenges—owing not least to its increasingly aggressive military posture in the region— but they are worth confronting, given China’s massive market and advanced technological capabilities. With the US putting economic self-interest ahead of democratic principles, Asian countries cannot afford to eschew pragmatism for ideology.

Beyond trade, Asia must build on the cooperation that began after the 2008 global financial crisis. The Chiang Mai Initiative Multilateralisation, which provides liquidity support to its member countries (the ASEAN+3) during crises, should be strengthened. Moreover, Asian central banks and finance ministries should work together to build more effective financial-stability frameworks—robust crisis-management arrangements, coordinated policy responses and clear communication—to stabilise currency markets and financial systems during episodes of external volatility.

Trump is not the only reason why Asia should deepen cooperation. The escalating trade and technology war between the US and China is threatening to divide the world into rival economic blocs, which would severely disrupt global trade and investment. But there is still time to avoid this outcome, by building a multipolar system comprising multiple economic blocs with overlapping memberships. By fostering economic integration, within the region and beyond, Asian countries would be laying the groundwork for such an order.

In an age of geoeconomic fragmentation, Asian countries could easily fall victim to the whims of great powers. But by strengthening trade partnerships, reinforcing financial cooperation, enhancing strategic collaboration and building economic resilience, they can take control over their futures and position Asia as a leading architect of a reconfigured global economy.

Trump’s critical minerals order may harm Australian interests

US President Donald Trump is certainly not afraid of an executive order, signing 97 since his inauguration on 20 January. In minerals and energy, Trump has declared a national emergency; committed to unleashing US (particularly Alaskan) resource potential; and established the National Energy Dominance Council (NEDC), granting it considerable executive powers.

His latest minerals order, titled ‘Immediate Measures to Increase American Mineral Production’, aims to overhaul US domestic production and reshape domestic and international critical mineral supply chains. It could derail Australia’s efforts for greater domestic production in the process.

At the strategic level, Trump wants to end US reliance on Chinese and adversarial mineral supplies and massively boost US production for national security and economic gains. While there is room for international partners to assist, the order is clearly aligned with the Trump’s broader America First approach.

Operationally, the US government will attempt to unlock mineral and energy production by administratively and financially prioritising new and existing projects and slashing regulatory red tape across critical minerals, uranium, and other commodities.

This will occur across the supply chain, targeting ‘mineral production’  encapsulating mining, processing, refining and end-use manufacturing in technological productions, including semiconductors, permanent magnets, and electric vehicles.

Executive orders are designed for immediate effect. Trump’s minerals order is no different, outlining near immediate actions for departmental heads and agencies. Much of it overseen by the NEDC.

For example, within 10 days of signing, agencies involved in mine production permitting are to produce a list of viable projects to prioritise. In the following 10 days, the Secretary of the Interior Doug Burgum, through his role as NEDC chair, will select priority projects for immediate approval.

Similarly, legislative reform to mine waste disposal and treatment—presumably reducing environmental protections—is ordered to be introduced to congress within 30 days of signing.

Alongside Burgum as NEDC chair and Secretary of the Interior, US Secretary of Defense Pete Hegseth and Secretary of Energy Chris Wright are tasked with significant decision-making across new investments and project prioritisation.

Project prioritisation, expedited approvals, and expedited delivery of supporting infrastructure are the primary levers through which Trump aims to unlock US mineral production. Achieving each will likely come at cost of environmental and social protections.

Whether it achieves rapid overall production increases remains to be seen.

According to S&P data, US mines have an average lead time of 13 years. Discovery and exploration studies account for the largest proportion at 8.7 years on average. Rapid permits should reduce the lag time between the completion of feasibility studies and mine construction, but it will not open new mines overnight.

Commercial factors, technical and financial feasibility, and major financing hurdles must also be considered. Trump’s slate of mineral and energy orders contain some measures to increase financial support to domestic mining and processing projects, including directing the International Development Finance Corporation to distribute more domestic funding. But doing so quickly and efficiently will test the US government. Industry, additionally, will most likely want to see sustained policy commitment and market effects before investing into new capital intensive projects.

Moving forward there will be opportunities for Australia to grasp, as well as risks to manage.

Several Australian mining companies are already operating or proposing government-supported processing plants in the United States. This includes Lynas Rare Earths’ refinery in Texas, Syrah Resources’ graphite refinery in Louisiana and South 32’s potential battery-grade manganese plant fed by its new Hermosa mine in Arizona. These projects could become important linkages in the sector and may benefit from these recent reforms.

The US will also remain reliant on international supply for some minerals and will need to prioritise close international partners with large mineral deposits, such as Australia.

The US has already demonstrated its willingness to provide generous concessional loans and fund minerals processing projects. The financing provisions of the minerals order will create further opportunities while increasing competitive pressure on Australia—particularly regarding our Future Made in Australia aspirations.

But there are risks to Australia’s ability to compete. Faster approvals and greater government funding commitments may draw investment to the US rather than Australia. However, poor implementation or environmental and social backlash may undermine this competitive advantage.

Australia should be most concerned if the US successfully expands its raw outputs quicker than its downstream industry, as US mineral production could flood the market. In 2024, Australia saw similar effects of oversupply in the nickel market (largely due to Indonesia), leading to temporary shuttering of nearly all Australian nickel operations.

Australia will need to assess the risks presented by US production increases. The government must work with industry to protect our domestic production and assess whether demand-side policy responses, such as a national stockpile, will be needed.

Trump’s mineral policy puts America first. Australia must respond and engage directly with the US to negotiate collaboration and maintain fairness in the market. International forums, such as ASPI’s Darwin Dialogue, may become particularly important to achieving this.

Australia surveys volatile and unpredictable geoeconomics

The international economics of Australia’s budget are pervaded by a Voldemort-like figure.

The He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is Donald Trump, firing up trade wars, churning global finance and smashing the rules-based order.

The closest the budget papers come to hinting at Voldemort are two references to the ‘US administration’.

Last year, Treasurer Jim Chalmers worried about a ‘fraught and fragile’ world. This year, the anxiety is realised; what was fragile is in pieces. Chalmers mourned a ‘volatile and unpredictable’ global economy, telling parliament: ‘The 2020s have already seen a global pandemic, global inflation and the threat of a global trade war. The whole world has changed as a consequence.’

Surveying that changed world, the budget papers predict global growth will stay subdued for the next three years, because of ‘considerable uncertainty’ (hi, Voldemort). Treasury’s three-year estimate of global growth is 3.75 percent, ‘the longest stretch of below-average growth since the early 1990s’.

In the budget, Treasury estimates the effect of the United States imposing a 25 percent tariff on all imports of durable manufacturing goods, such as steel and aluminium. While the tariff may lead to ‘a reduction in the real GDP of Australia, China and the United States over time’, the total effect of the tariffs on Australia’s economy by 2030 is ‘modest’. The indirect effect of the tariffs is nearly four times as large as the direct effect, reflecting the importance of trade flows between Australia, China and the US.

Inflation in the US would persistently increase as imports become more expensive, Treasury notes, while Australia would see ‘a small temporary increase in inflation’ because of depreciation of the Australian dollar. Model in retaliatory 25 percent tariffs by all countries, including China and Australia, and ‘the loss in real GDP is amplified’.

Treasury lists the factors pushing against China: immediate pressure from its property downturn, trade conflict with the US and ‘longer term, structural challenges, including a shrinking workforce and lower productivity growth’. While China grew by 5 percent last year, the forecast for this year is 4.75 percent, falling to 4.25 percent by 2027.

Japan’s growth is expected to be around 1.25 percent this year, then lower in 2026 and 2027. India is expected to keep powering on at more than six percent over 2025–27, driven by ‘robustness in domestic consumption, increased government spending, easing of monetary policy, and an expansion of the manufacturing sector’.

Beyond China, East Asia is forecast to grow by 4 percent over 2025–27, with domestic demand in key economies bolstered by an easing of monetary policy. ‘However, escalating trade tensions could dampen investor confidence and weigh on growth.’

The Voldemort effect on Australia’s discussion of geoeconomics is the same on geopolitics. What Canberra thinks of Trump versus what Canberra publishes about the administration is the difference between night and day.

To give you a hint of Canberra’s dark reality, consider US international relations professor, Daniel Drezner. His writing on US foreign policy is always measured and carefully judged, but on Australia’s budget day he published an article titled: ‘American Foreign Policy Is Being Run by the Dumbest Motherfuckers Alive’.

Canberra shares the horror, even if it’d use more Australian-flavoured swearwords. The contortions this forces on policy statements is on display in Australia in the World – 2025 Snapshot, issued by the Department of Foreign Affairs and Trade.

Foreign Minister Penny Wong’s foreword observes: ‘Australians face confronting signs that assumptions we have relied on for generations are less assured, with international security increasingly fragile. We live in a world of increasing strategic surprise—ever more uncertain and unpredictable.’

Any global scene-setter from an Australian foreign minister during the past 80 years would have had the US at its heart. Not this foreword. Perhaps there’s a Voldemort sighting in Wong’s lament: ‘Authoritarianism is spreading. Some countries are shifting alignment … Institutions we built are being eroded, and rules we wrote are being challenged.’

The text of the document drops the coyness to judge: ‘President Trump’s America First agenda envisages a different role for the United States in the world.’

The Trump reality is balanced by the paper’s traditional statement of what the US has been: ‘The United States of America is our closest ally, principal strategic partner and largest two-way investment partner. The Indo-Pacific would not have enjoyed its long, uninterrupted period of stability and prosperity without the United States and the security it provides, and it remains critical to a favourable balance in our region.’

Working for that balance, the DFAT strategy is to ‘prioritise region, relationships and rules’, focus on the Indo-Pacific and seek ‘unprecedented’ partnerships in the South Pacific while ‘turbocharging our economic ties with Southeast Asia’.

And hope that a volatile and unpredictable Voldemort doesn’t wreck too much.

The transatlantic world will never be the same

Once upon a time, the United States saw the contest between democracy and authoritarianism as a singularly defining issue. It was this outlook, forged in the crucible of World War II, that created such strong transatlantic bonds. For many decades, the US-European alliance was not only about security, but ideology and shared values. That is why the relationship endured for 80 years.

But now, thanks to US President Donald Trump, the world of just two months ago has already come to feel like distant history. The very nature of the West is changing at lightning speed before our eyes. So sudden and disorienting is the disruption that many have been left grasping for an anchor. The new reality became apparent when the US joined Russia and a few other outcast authoritarian countries to vote against a UN General Assembly resolution condemning Russia’s aggression against Ukraine on the third anniversary of the full-scale invasion. That was a watershed—a date that will live in infamy.

Obviously, the implications of the new US foreign policy are profound. No one can deny that the transatlantic security alliance is fraying. Political leaders might feel a duty to insist publicly that the old mutual defence commitments remain solid; but they are not fooling anyone—not even themselves. The credibility of the alliance depends on the person in the White House, and that person has no credibility when it comes to matters of transatlantic security.

Moreover, we are witnessing a marked departure from the first Trump administration, which at least kept the transatlantic ideological alliance largely intact. Vice President J D Vance’s speech at the Munich Security Conference indicated that this time is different. His message sent shockwaves through European security, defence, and foreign policy circles. Not only did he dismiss as irrelevant the security issues that have anchored NATO for three-quarters of a century; he completely redrew the ideological map in such a way as to pit Europe and the US against each other. Suddenly, the US looked not like an ally, but like an adversary.

The MAGA fundamentalists at the core of the Trump administration are engaged in a culture war that aims to transform US society. Their project is largely a reactionary counterrevolution against liberal tendencies that they believe have subverted their country. MAGA wants to return to a more martial, conservative and semi-isolationist version of American exceptionalism. As such, its defining struggle has nothing to do with the contest between democracy and authoritarianism. Those words hardly figure in its narratives.

Given the nature of its culture-war project, MAGA sees Europe as an adversary. Vance, who has aligned his rhetoric with European right-wing extremists, argues that Europe is ‘at risk [of] engaging in civilisational suicide.’ Similarly, Elon Musk, Trump’s top financial backer and aide, has openly campaigned for far-right parties in Germany and Britain. Looking ahead, we will almost certainly see more of this advocacy in countries like Poland and Romania (where a court annulled a first-round election result last year, citing Russian interference). Since MAGA ideologues see open, liberal European societies as extensions of their enemies at home, their support for illiberal, anti-democratic forces is perfectly logical.

They also have a fundamentally different view of Russia. It is no coincidence that their rhetoric often echoes that of Russian President Vladimir Putin’s regime (sometimes almost word for word). MAGA and Putin alike espouse aggressive nationalism and hostility toward liberal values; they both carry on endlessly about sovereignty and the role of strong leaders and strong nations in shaping the future. Whether you are in the Kremlin or the White House, the so-called globalists are the enemy.

Whereas the Biden administration obviously wished for regime change in Russia—even if this was never expressed as an official policy goal—the Trump administration wants regime change in Europe. Europe is no longer an ally, but an enemy; and though Russia might not (yet) be a full US ally, nor is it an adversary. Putin’s regime has a closer ideological affinity with the current US administration than the Europeans ever will.

If there is any hope for the transatlantic world, it lies in the fact that the US is not uniform. Contrary to what he claims, Trump has no mandate to do what he is doing. But with US society so polarised, its political trajectory is not easy to predict. Even if a partial return to the old order is still possible, the forces driving the reactionary counterrevolution will be around for years to come.

The world must take note and shape its policies accordingly. Europeans can hope for the best, but they must prepare for the worst. What once seemed impossible—a rogue US—has become all too likely.

Eggs in more baskets: protecting Australian agricultural exports from US tariffs

Australia’s export-oriented industries, particularly agriculture, need to diversify their markets, with a focus on Southeast Asia. This could strengthen economic security and resilience while deepening regional relationships.

The Trump administration’s decision to impose tariffs on Australian steel and aluminium has caused doubts about the strength of the relationship between Australia and the United States. While the US has not yet imposed tariffs on Australian beef and other agricultural products, the current unpredictability of US trade policies means these industries could soon be on the chopping block. This would harm Australian primary producers and have significant social effects on rural communities, including in the strategically important north.

The rumblings of a shifting world order are impossible to ignore. We cannot pretend that the post-Cold War order, in part defined by the US’s championing of trade liberalisation, is still healthy and intact. Middle powers, perhaps the chief beneficiaries of the rules-based order, bear a particular responsibility and capacity to preserving it. The shakeup of the global trade system may require us to re-evaluate our export posture; Australian governments and businesses must prepare for this.

Australia exports approximately 70 percent of the agricultural, fishery and forestry products it produces. The US is the second-largest market for Australian agricultural goods, taking $6.8 billion of them in 2023–24, with beef, lamb, dairy and wine among the most valuable. The loss of this market would deal a great blow to many agricultural businesses and communities across Australia.

These economic challenges are clear, but agricultural export tariffs would also have concerning social ramifications. Economic loss leads to disillusionment, unemployment and scapegoating, fuelling political and social discontent.

The development of northern Australia, vital for Australia’s strategic position and foreign policy, would be at particular risk if trade barriers curtailed agriculture—one of the region’s key economic engines and forces of community life.

Australia has recent experience in diversifying markets for our agricultural exports. In the face of trade barriers erected by the Chinese government beginning in 2020, Australian officials and agricultural industries did well to find other destinations for some affected products. Even when the Chinese market reopened, these other markets remained favourable.

Southeast Asian markets are particularly promising for a variety of reasons. One is that together they already buy more Australian agricultural products than the US does.

The region’s largely tropical climate makes it unsuitable for the kinds of products grown in Australia’s mediterranean, sub-tropical and semi-arid zones. Australian exports can play a more prominent role as Southeast Asia’s population rises and consumer preferences change, with both factors driving the demand for greater volume and diversity of food products, especially animal protein.

Furthermore, the US is also a significant agricultural exporter to the region. It shares six of its top 10 export markets with Australia, all in East and Southeast Asia. Should the Trump administration continue to impose tariffs, and should regional nations introduce reciprocal tariffs, Australia could fill some of the US-shaped holes.

South and Southeast Asia’s textile industries are also markets for Australian natural fibres such as cotton and wool. Currently, 60 percent of clothing is made with petrochemical fibres. But campaigns aimed at reducing this amount could drive global demand for natural fibres, benefitting Australian producers and the environment. Southeast Asia also presents a fantastic market for raw goods to be processed and exported, even back to Australia, due to moderate labour costs, lower utility costs and proximity to markets. This provides mutual economic and social benefits.

Other markets should also be considered. While Southeast Asia’s tropical produce is plentiful, New Zealand’s is not. Australia is the largest exporter of tropical fruits to New Zealand, but there is still room to grow this profile. This would particularly benefit northern Australia, where many tropical fruits are grown.

In East Asia, Australian high-quality agricultural products are particularly prized. Australia should boost agricultural-product promotion campaigns in the region, which are already quite creative.

Australia’s agricultural sector will continue to be important, yet vulnerable to trade insecurity. Through multilateral groups such as the Cairns Group and MIKTA—Mexico, Indonesia, South Korea, Turkey and Australia—Australia should continue to reinforce the benefits of open trade, while also being alert to the challenges it can create for communities large and small.

As we see in the US, serious public grievances arise when negative domestic effects of international trade aren’t addressed. Governments and civil society must manage economic transitions effectively and develop adequate supports during the process. This must be supported by responsible corporate governance, alive to the ethical effects of economic change.

Trump’s tariffs challenge India’s economic balance

US President Donald Trump’s tariff threats have dominated headlines in India in recent weeks. Earlier this month, Trump announced that his reciprocal tariffs—matching other countries’ tariffs on American goods—will go into effect on 2 April, causing Indian exporters to panic at the prospect of being embroiled in Trump’s escalating trade war.

Trump’s unpredictability offers little solace. While he recently suspended tariffs on cars and automobile parts from Mexico and Canada for one month—ostensibly to give US automakers time to ramp up domestic production—any hope that India might receive similar exemptions is, at best, wishful thinking.

During his February visit to the United States, Indian Prime Minister Narendra Modi did achieve an important goal: a nine-month negotiation process, set to conclude by autumn, on a new bilateral trade deal. But this timeline has no bearing on the reciprocal tariffs set to take effect next month. In his 4 March State of the Union address, Trump singled out India as a major tariff abuser and reiterated his commitment to imposing reciprocal duties.

The economic impact on India, which runs a trade surplus with the US, could be significant. India exported goods worth nearly $74 billion to the US in 2024, and estimates suggest that Trump’s new tariffs could cost the country up to $7 billion annually.

But the implications could be much more far-reaching. One analysis estimates that India effectively imposes a 9.5 percent tariff on US goods, while US levies on Indian imports are only 3 percent. If Trump follows through on his pledge of full tariff reciprocity, that imbalance will vanish—along with the cost advantages many Indian exporters currently enjoy. Indian products will become less competitive, leading to a decline in export revenues and job losses, especially in labour-intensive industries. Critical sectors—including chemicals, metals, jewellery, automobiles and auto parts, textiles, pharmaceuticals and food products—are expected to be hit the hardest.

The impact of reciprocal tariffs also depends on their structure—specifically, which products they target and how broadly they are applied. Will tariffs be imposed on entire categories of goods, such as fruit, or specific items, such as apples, which India does not export to the US? If the tariffs apply to broad categories or single out major Indian exports such as mangoes and oranges, they could significantly restrict India’s access to the US market.

This would put India in a difficult position: negotiate an exemption or urgently seek alternative markets. While Indian officials have rushed to Washington, hoping to gauge the Trump administration’s intentions before the reciprocal tariffs kick in, it appears they have found little clarity.

Trump’s 25 percent tariff on automobile parts would undoubtedly hurt India, a major producer. But Indian exporters are no more vulnerable than their counterparts in Mexico and China. If US tariffs are applied to all countries, they will drive up costs for everyone.

The greater risk for India lies in the potential long-term impact on the US automotive industry, which relies heavily on imported parts. If Trump’s tariffs lead to a massive resurgence of domestic manufacturing and a sharp decline in imports, Indian suppliers will inevitably suffer. But such a shift would take time, and given existing wage disparities, US-made parts will likely remain more expensive than Indian imports.

With projections suggesting that lower exports could cause India’s annual GDP growth to slow significantly, Modi’s government has scrambled to placate the Trump administration with pre-emptive concessions. The 2025–26 Union budget cuts tariffs on US-made bourbon, wines and electric vehicles. Even Harley-Davidson motorcycles, a frequent point of contention for Trump, will now cost less in India.

Will that be enough to placate Trump? If the US matches India’s 10 percent tariff on US pharmaceutical imports, it could eliminate Indian manufacturers’ current cost advantage. This is no small concern, given that pharmaceutical exports to the US account for about 31 percent of India’s total exports. That reflects India’s significance as a producer of the generic drugs sold in US pharmacies. If Trump’s tariffs drive up consumer prices, would US companies start producing generic drugs domestically, potentially undermining India’s most lucrative export sector?

Then there are the unknown unknowns. Will the Trump administration impose even higher tariffs on other countries that compete with India for the US market? And if Indian exporters lose access to the US market, could they find alternative buyers?

Trump has already touted his success in dealing with India. During a recent White House briefing, he declared, ‘India charges us massive tariffs, you can’t even sell anything into India. It’s almost restrictive’. But he claimed that India had ‘agreed to cut their tariffs way down now because somebody is finally exposing them for what they have done’.

Modi’s government has been quick to downplay the perception that it yielded to US pressure. But Trump’s remarks are bound to trigger intense soul-searching among Indian policymakers. India has long used tariffs to protect its domestic industries, particularly agriculture, automobiles and electronics. Reducing tariffs could expose these industries to fierce import competition, threatening local businesses and jobs.

India’s deep-seated preference for protectionist policies, rooted in its colonial past, will not be easily abandoned. Given that tariffs also serve as a vital source of government revenue, a sudden reduction could disrupt fiscal stability, especially when India must juggle competing economic priorities, such as infrastructure investment and funding essential welfare programs.

Some concessions, of course, will be unavoidable. In the coming months, India will have little choice but to explore strategic tariff reductions in select sectors while negotiating broader trade benefits and improved access to the US market.

Admittedly, preserving India’s economic sovereignty while making meaningful concessions to maintain strong trade ties with the US will require a delicate balancing act. With the October deadline for a bilateral trade deal looming, the stakes of striking the right balance could not be higher.

In a divided world, momentum behind negotiations grows

At a time of rising geopolitical tensions and deepening global fragmentation, the Ukraine war has proved particularly divisive. From the start, the battle lines were clearly drawn: Russia on one side, Ukraine and the West on the other, and much of the Global South hoping only for the conflict to end. Now, however, alignments are shifting. Whether this will advance efforts to resolve the conflict and strengthen global stability remains to be seen.

After more than three years, Europe—including the European Union, Britain and Norway—remains largely steadfast in its support of Ukraine. The largest armed conflict in its neighbourhood since World War II has deeply affected the European psyche, as it has challenged basic assumptions about continental security and revived the spectre of nuclear annihilation that loomed over Europe throughout the Cold War. The prevailing view has always been that a Russian victory—including a peace deal that ceded some Ukrainian territory to Russia—would amount to an existential threat.

The United States, however, has decided that it no longer wants to ‘pour billions of dollars’ into what Secretary of State Marco Rubio calls a ‘bloody stalemate, a meat-grinder-type war’. So, US President Donald Trump is seeking to negotiate a peace deal with Russian President Vladimir Putin. To press Ukraine to accept the concessions such an agreement will undoubtedly entail, the Trump administration suspended and later resumed military aid and intelligence support.

This is not about ending a ‘savage conflict’ for ‘the good of the world’, as Trump claims. While years of sanctions were supposed to drain Russia, economically and militarily, to America’s benefit, they bolstered an unholy Sino-Russian alliance against the West, while sustaining a conflict that kept US attention and resources in Europe. With his push for a peace deal in Ukraine, Trump is seeking to cut the US’s losses and shift its strategic focus and military resources toward the Indo-Pacific—the home of America’s real enemy: China.

As Trump’s predecessor Joe Biden recognised, only China has the resolve and capability to surpass the US as the foremost world power. Yet the US still has more than 100,000 troops stationed in Europe. That is why US Defense Secretary Pete Hegseth recently warned that the US can ‘no longer tolerate’ an ‘imbalanced’ transatlantic relationship that ‘encourages dependency’. Europe must take ‘responsibility for its own security’, Hegseth said, so that the US can focus on ‘deterring war with China’.

The question is whether Europe is capable of managing its own security. The answer probably should be yes. As Polish Prime Minister Donald Tusk recently pointed out, Europe does not lack economic strength. Nor does it lack people: there are ‘500 million Europeans begging 300 million Americans to defend them against 140 million Russians.’ What is missing is the EU’s belief that it is a global power. The result is a rudderless Europe.

When it comes to supporting Ukraine, Europe has another critical shortcoming. As NATO Secretary-General Mark Rutte has noted, Europe lacks the necessary military-industrial base to provide sufficient arms support to Ukraine. That is why some, including Rutte, want to make a deal with the US: you keep supplying Ukraine with weapons, and we will foot the bill. Unless the Trump administration accepts such an arrangement, the British-French plan to build a ‘coalition of the willing’ to do the heavy lifting on Ukrainian security will face powerful headwinds.

Meanwhile, the Global South is still struggling to cope with the Ukraine war’s economic fallout, especially sharply higher food and energy prices, which have had particularly devastating consequences for small and vulnerable developing countries with limited foreign reserves. Sri Lanka is a case in point. In the months that followed Russia’s full-scale invasion of Ukraine, skyrocketing global prices drained its reserves, leading to fuel, food, medicine and electricity shortages. The resulting economic meltdown pushed a frustrated population over the edge, triggering widespread protests that toppled a political dynasty.

This explains why developing countries remain largely unified in advocating an early negotiated end to the war, even if that means leaving a sizable chunk of Ukrainian territory under Russian occupation. If anything, calls for a peace agreement have grown since 2023, with even NATO member Turkey and close US ally Israel charting more independent stances on the conflict. It does not help that, for many countries in the Global South, the West’s contrasting responses to the wars in Ukraine and Gaza reek of hypocrisy.

For now, Ukraine and Europe remain committed to seeking peace through strength. But as admirable as Ukraine’s resistance has been, and as important as it is to defend the international legal principles of sovereignty and territorial integrity that Russia has flagrantly violated, the fact is that the conflict has reached a stalemate, while the international fallout continues to grow. Rather than repeat the mistakes of the 1950-53 Korean War—in which an armistice agreement was reached only after two years of military deadlock—all parties should adopt a realistic approach to ending the war and negotiate accordingly.