By Vivian Kalla
In the last decade, US politics have seen a seismic shift — not just in policy but in the revival of a persistent force: nationalism. Though not new to US history, its latest reincarnation has proven to be particularly disruptive, steering the country toward a more isolationist stance in trade and foreign policy. Nowhere has this been more evident than in the protectionist measures enacted by the Trump administration, including a wave of tariffs aimed at allies and rivals alike. These actions, cloaked in nationalist rhetoric about putting “America First,” have upended long-standing trade norms and deeply strained the trust between the United States and its closest partners, most notably Canada.
Nationalism prioritizes a country’s self-interest above global cooperation. For many Americans, especially those in industrial regions hit hard by globalization, this resonates. It promises security in an increasingly uncertain world. But while nationalism may offer short-term political capital, it comes at a steep cost: the fraying of global alliances, destabilization of trade systems and a reputation for unreliability.
President Trump’s tariffs on steel and aluminum serve as a case study of how nationalism has impacted US trade policy and strained diplomatic relations. Citing national security concerns, the administration imposed a 25% tariff on steel and a 10% tariff on aluminum imports, including those from Canada, a country historically viewed not only as an ally but as one of America’s most trusted trading partners. The move was met with shock and dismay north of the border, prompting Canadian retaliation with its own set of counter-tariffs.
To understand the significance of this rupture, one must recognize how interwoven the US and Canadian are. Canada is the largest foreign market for US goods. The countries share the world’s longest undefended border. Their trade relationship has long stood as a model of peaceful cooperation and mutual benefit, exemplified by agreements such as the North American Free Trade Agreement of 1994 and its successor, the US-Mexico-Canada Agreement of 2020. When the Trump administration invoked national security to justify tariffs against Canada, it was not just a policy decision, but a betrayal of trust.
For many Canadians, the tariffs signaled that the United States could no longer be counted on to honor the spirit of economic partnership. This was not a mere diplomatic faux pas. It had real economic consequences. Canadian exporters scrambled to find new markets, while American industries reliant on Canadian materials faced higher input costs. The ripple effects spread through sectors, from automotive manufacturing to agriculture.
The damage, however, has gone beyond economics. Politically, it undermined the idea of a rules-based international order that the United States itself had helped build. If America could so flippantly discard its obligations and strain friendships in the name of nationalism, what message does that send to other nations? The lesson is clear: alliances are no longer anchored in shared values or history — they are contingent, transactional and temporary.
When Donald Trump returned to the White House in 2025, one of his first major policy moves was to double down on the protectionist agenda that had defined his first term. Framing the global economy as a battlefield, Trump swiftly enacted a new wave of tariffs — broader and more aggressive than those before. Under the banner of “Economic Sovereignty,” the administration targeted a wide array of imports, including automotive parts, semiconductors, agricultural goods and green energy components. Once again, allies like Canada found themselves caught in the crosshairs.
This erosion of trust did not just affect Canada. Across Europe and Asia, US allies began to question the stability and reliability of American leadership. Trade negotiations grew more contentious. Multilateral institutions like the World Trade Organization were sidelined or attacked. In many ways, the US seemed to step back from its role as a global steward of economic cooperation, retreating into a fortress of self-interest.
The rationale remained the same, which was to revitalize American manufacturing, reduce trade deficits and weaken the economic leverage of countries deemed “threats.” However, the reality was more complicated. These tariffs sent shockwaves through international markets, intensified inflation at home and accelerated the unraveling of the global trade order.
Canada, which worked hard to stabilize its relationship with the United States after Trump’s first term, was blindsided by the abrupt return to economic brinkmanship. Tariffs on Canadian lumber, dairy products and automotive exports led to retaliatory measures from Ottawa. Cross-border trade — once tense under Biden, yet mutually beneficial — was suddenly entangled in a web of surcharges, legal disputes and diplomatic recriminations.
Unlike in Trump’s first term, where national security was the primary justification, the second wave of tariffs came with a new ideological edge. The administration framed global trade as a threat to American identity. This was not just about jobs — it was about reclaiming control in a world portrayed as hostile to American values. Traditional allies were treated with the same suspicion as geopolitical rivals like China.
The second round of tariffs had a mixed reception in the United States. While some industries celebrated short-term gains from reduced foreign competition, many others suffered from higher costs and retaliatory barriers abroad. Farmers in the Midwest saw markets dry up, and US automakers faced surging prices for parts, showing first-hand how tariffs have tangible negative effects on markets commonly considered to be “American.”
Yet politically, the nationalist message remains potent — not just because of the policies it promotes, but because of the language it employs. The administration’s “America First” trade agenda was marketed not merely as a strategy for economic revitalization, but as a moral imperative rooted in patriotism. Through carefully crafted rhetoric, economic protectionism was recast as a test of national loyalty, a litmus for who truly stood with the country and who did not. Words like “sovereignty,” “independence,” and “taking back control” became central to the administration’s messaging, transforming complex trade issues into emotionally charged symbols of American identity. In this environment, dissenting voices are easily dismissed as unpatriotic. Critics of the tariffs were not simply debating policy — they were painted as undermining the nation itself. This strategic use of language served to consolidate political support, polarize debate and insulate the administration from scrutiny, revealing how rhetoric is not just an accessory to nationalist policy, but a tool for shaping its trajectory and silencing opposition.
For Canada and other allies, Trump’s second term is sobering. The belief that America is a stable partner has been upended. Trade agreements, no matter how carefully negotiated, now seem subject to political winds. The very idea of a shared North American economic identity — nurtured over decades — is being tested like never before.
In the long run, the consequences of this second wave of tariffs may be far more lasting than the first. The reckless erosion of trust gave way to ruin; the United States, once the cornerstone of global trade cooperation, now finds itself isolated, even among friends.
In a symbolic farewell speech, Prime Minister Justin Trudeau warned that “Canada must never again assume permanence in US goodwill,” urging future leaders to pursue “strategic resilience” over dependence. His final rallying cry — “elbows up” — echoed across the country, signaling a new era of muscular diplomacy and self-reliance. The phrase, once reserved for hockey rinks, has since become shorthand for a more assertive Canadian posture on the global stage — a profound acknowledgment that trust, once lost, is not easily regained.
If nationalism continued to shape US trade policy, the country may win some battles but lose the war — the war for influence, leadership and trust in a rapidly-shifting global stage.
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