Trump’s threats and tariffs are a global ‘kill switch’

Sometimes, a small incident reveals larger truths about our world. Consider reports that some North Atlantic Treaty Organization allies are rethinking plans to buy American-made F-35 fighters. This story isn’t just about a plane: It is a window into the remarkable power imbalances and dependencies at the heart of the modern international system. It is also a preview of the epic reordering that will occur if the free world comes apart. Portugal, Canada and other NATO allies having second thoughts about purchasing F-35s were reportedly concerned that the planes might have a “kill switch” that would permit a hostile US president to immobilise them. The manufacturer, Lockheed Martin, hastily denied the rumour.

But there is a metaphorical kill switch, in that F-35s require maintenance, munitions, parts and software upgrades that must be approved by Washington. Ten weeks into Donald Trump’s presidency, few European allies seem convinced that such reliance on America is a good bet anymore. The massive web of global tariffs announced by the White House on Wednesday only confirms that skepticism. Yet the cruel reality is that the American world order involves the allies’ extreme, nearly comprehensive dependence on a superpower that doesn’t seem so dependable anymore.

Foreign countries rely on a world economy in which most transactions are denominated in dollars; they sell their goods in an enormous US market. Vital international institutions, from NATO to the International Monetary Fund, are essentially led by Washington. The US anchors free-world intelligence relationships that involve routinised sharing of highly sensitive information. Most American allies have long accepted, even welcomed, a system in which the US wields the most crucial military capabilities — from heavy airlift to nuclear weapons — on behalf of its friends.

This is an utterly extraordinary system. It upends our understanding of national sovereignty, in the sense that dozens of countries rely on the US for prosperity, security and survival. It is a testament to the deep, institutionalized cooperation that has emerged within the democratic community. Contra Trump’s laments about allies’ exploitation of America, it gives Washington tremendous influence over those friendly nations. And it reveals the degree to which a benign American hegemony emerged as the solution to the anarchy that, before 1945, had repeatedly torn the world apart.

But extraordinary arrangements demand extraordinary confidence that America won’t betray its allies or consistently weaponize their dependence against them. Trump insists that he will take territory from America’s NATO allies. He withdrew (albeit briefly) US aid from Ukraine and wants to appropriate that country’s natural resource wealth. He and his vice president, JD Vance, have described the Europeans more as enemies than as friends. His administration is exploiting the dependence of allies and neighbours on the US market to launch punishing trade wars.

Disputes between allies are nothing new, but this feels different: There is growing alarm, especially in the transatlantic community, that allied dependence is now being exploited by a superpower with an illiberal, revisionist bent. For now, many allies can’t do much except appease Washington. Canadian Prime Minister Mark Carney, presently running an election campaign, has flatly declared that his country’s special relationship with America is over. He’s more the exception than the rule. Britain’s prime minister, Keir Starmer, and President Emmanuel Macron of France are desperately trying to keep Trump engaged in Europe because they know that defense of Ukraine — and perhaps defense of the continent — is hopeless, in the near-term, if America goes home. For similar reasons, Japan will do nearly anything to stay on Trump’s good side.

Even allies that lack faith in Trump’s America know they can’t do without it. But if this erosion of confidence continues, the consequences will be profound.

We might see a proliferation of non-dollar payment systems, of the sort Europe experimented with during Trump’s first term. Dollar dominance makes the obstacles considerable, but the desire — in Europe and the Global South, to say nothing of the autocratic world — is clearly there.

There will be new diplomatic and military groupings of democratic countries that do more with one another because they can count less on Washington. Eastern European countries — Poland, Romania, the Baltic States, Ukraine — might pull together in a mini-alliance, separate from NATO, to resist Russian pressure. Japanese analysts admit that stronger ties with Australia, the Philippines, India, South Korea and other countries are, ideally, complements to the US alliance — but, in a less desirable and increasingly plausible scenario, substitutes for it.

Military supply relationships will also shift: Who will want to buy their most sophisticated weapons from a country that no longer shares their core strategic interests? Europe can’t quit the F-35 cold turkey — it makes nothing of comparable quality. But partnerships like the recently announced plan for Japan, Italy and the UK to build a next-generation fighter jet could flourish.

And Trump’s tariffs, along with the inevitable European Union counter-tariffs, will spur Europe’s military self-sufficiency and be a boon to its defense contractors. Not least, expect a more nuclearised world, as erstwhile allies conclude they must possess the ultimate weapon themselves. Nuclear debates in South Korea, Poland and even Germany are already heating up. If it proves impractical to extend the British or French umbrella over Europe — London and Paris would need much bigger, more sophisticated arsenals — we could see a surge in new national deterrents on the continent.