President Trump announced today that he would impose 25% tariffs on imports from Canada and Mexico starting tomorrow. The tariffs were originally set to take effect on February 4, but he then announced a last-minute reprieve of one month.
The announcement comes despite very different responses from Canada and Mexico to Trump’s tariff threats. President Sheinbaum of Mexico has gone to some lengths in recent days to accommodate U.S. preferences on key American concerns–migration, crime and Chinese exports to Mexico.
Last Thursday, she oversaw the transfer of 29 high-profile drug lords to US custody, signaling a willingness to align more closely with Washington in the fight against drugs and organized crime. And on Friday, Treasury Secretary Scott Bessent said Mexico was going to impose tariffs on imports from China to match those set by the U.S., a step he urged Canada to follow.
The measures announced by the Mexican government likely have or would have had associated costs — potential violent retaliation by drug gangs, and forgoing inbound investment from China, the world’s current leader in electrical vehicle technology. But evidently, this was a price Sheinbaum felt was worth paying to avert the tariffs.
Canada has taken a much more combative approach, with tempers likely inflamed further by the relentless taunts (if not yet actually threats) of the country’s incorporation as America’s 51st state. Large parts of Canada’s political spectrum have united against these suggestions. The outgoing Liberal Party Prime Minister Justin Trudeau has drawn closer to the European Union and sought common ground with them on the subjects of global trade and Ukraine. Ontario Premier Doug Ford of the Conservative Party has been threatening for months to turn off Canada’s power supply to parts of the Northeast, a step he said today he would take, with a smile on his face. The complexities of power transmission might make this hard to do but it is still an indication of how fraught the current relationship across the 49th parallel has become.
Yet despite these differences between Canadian and Mexican approaches, both are being hit with the same tariffs (assuming nothing happens between now and when then they are due to take effect). The measures could lead to a massive shock as total trade between the three countries in the USMCA free-trade area accounted for more than $1.3 trillion in 2023. The resulting shock is not just about the volume of trade between the countries but also the composition. Trilateral trade involves lots of intermediate goods and parts crossing borders multiple times, particularly in the highly integrated automotive sector. A recent story showed how a single piston crosses borders 6 times in the course of its manufacture.
The entire process thus far suggests that uncertainty might be here to stay — not just for businesses but even for governments. The parallel treatment of Canada and Mexico, despite their very different approaches to Trump, suggests that even commercial diplomacy is now a much less predictable enterprise when it comes to U.S. foreign policy.
Karthik Sankaran is a senior research fellow in geoeconomics in the Global South program at the Quincy Institute. Previously, he served as Director for Global Strategy at the Eurasia Group, where he worked with country and regional teams to chart feedback loops among political and geopolitical risks, macroeconomics, and market responses. He has written for the Financial Times, Barron’s, and FPRI.
Top photo credit: Mexican President Claudia Sheinbaum (Shutterstock/Octavia Hoyos)
A political bombshell in France: the long-time leader of the right-wing National Rally party (Rassemblement National) Marine Le Pen has been banned from running for political office for the next five years after a court in Paris found her guilty of embezzling the equivalent of $4 million in EU funds to pay National Rally staffers not working for the European Parliament.
She was also handed a suspended four-year prison term and ordered to pay a €100,000 fine. It remains to be seen whether the court decision means a political death sentence for her (it can be overturned if she wins an appeal), but it is certainly a devastating blow and a major shake-up of French politics.
It matters because the latest polls showed Marine Le Pen leading in the presidential race for 2027, projecting 34-37% of the votes in the first round. That would secure her a place in the run-off, where her chances would depend on the ability of all the other parties to coalesce around her would-be opponent.
At first glance, Le Pen’s disqualification could weaken the anti-war voices in France and the EU by reducing their cohesion and visibility. Her party is a founding member of the Patriots for Europe (PfE), the third largest political group in the European Parliament, where it sits with influential like-minded parties like Hungarian Prime Minister Viktor Orban’s Fidesz, and Italian Deputy Prime Minster Matteo Salvini’s Lega. All of them have been vocal critics of the EU’s unconditional support for Ukraine, anti-Russia sanctions, and the dogmatic refusal to engage in direct diplomacy with Moscow to end the war.
To highlight the opposition to the current militarization drive in Europe, the Patriots voted against the European Parliament resolution in early March that endorsed Commission President Ursula Von der Leyen’s equivalent of $900 billion “rearm” plan. Critics dismissed that plan as unrealistic given the fiscal dire straits in which the continent finds itself and the lack of unified threat assessment throughout Europe — if you are in Portugal, for example, your perception of the Russian threat would be vastly different from Poland’s.
Opposition to the “rearm plan” was transpartisan as the Patriots were joined by the anti-war Left faction, and some dissidents from the center-left social-democratic group, such as members of the Italian Democratic Party. On the level of the member states, national interest still trumps ideological cohesion: the conservative Italian Prime Minister Giorgia Meloni — ideologically close to Orban and Le Pen — and the Socialist Spanish Prime Minister Pedro Sanchez both reject the “rearm” concept (even though the poorly-led Socialists in the European Parliament incomprehensibly voted to back Von der Leyen’s plan).
Le Pen’s experience and networks in Europe made her a key player in ensuring the cohesiveness of these like-minded forces. Back in France, she has consistently criticized Macron’s hyper-activism on Ukraine and dismissed his idea of sending French peacekeepers to Ukraine as “sheer madness” — cognizant of the fact that, absent a Russian agreement to such a deployment (which will not be forthcoming), these forces would become targets for the Russian army.
She also firmly opposed Macron’s ideas of diluting national sovereignty on defense matters, such as his loose talk of extending the French nuclear umbrella to the rest of Europe.
Of course, this has prompted vivid speculation over the political motivations behind the French court’s decision to ban Le Pen from running. While her allies on the right predictably stand by her, leftist Yanis Varoufakis, an unlikely ally, chastised the “mind-boggling hypocrisy” of the liberal media in denouncing Turkish President Recep Tayyip Erdogan’s imprisonment of his main opponent, Istanbul’s mayor Ekrem Imamoglu, while rejoicing at the French courts “doing the same.”
Some also tried to draw parallels with Romania, where the winner of the first round of the presidential elections Calin Georgescu had his victory annulled, and himself banned from a re-run on apparently flimsy grounds. Like Le Pen, Georgescu ran as a torchbearer of anti-establishment sentiment, and similarly opposed a further war in Ukraine.
Yet one should not rush to hasty conclusions. The legal case against Le Pen appears to be robust. There is no evidence that the ruling of the court was politically motivated —France has a history of disqualifying misconducting politicians. In 2017, the mainstream conservative candidate Francois Fillon was disqualified for money diversion on a much smaller scale than Le Pen.
What raises questions in Le Pen’s case is not so much the veracity of the allegations against her as the immediate enforcement of the five-year ban, even before any appeal could be resolved. Crucially, that period covers the next presidential elections in 2027. That urgency has led critics to accuse the judges of violating the people’s right to freely choose their representatives, particularly given Le Pen’s popularity. However, it seems indisputable that the judges enjoyed the discretion to do so.
Short term, the news could be a boon for Macron and his liberal allies in France and the EU. For one thing, it may be giving some breathing space to the embattled centrist government led by Macron’s pick, Francois Bayrou. National Rally and the left have enough combined clout in the French parliament to oust the government, which they already did with Bayrou’s predecessor, another centrist. Yet doing so again, while mathematically feasible, could tempt Macron to call yet another parliamentary election, from which his most formidable foe would be excluded.
Longer term impact would depend on more factors. Would Jordan Bardella, Le Pen’s 29-year-old protégé and presumed presidential candidate (in case her appeal fails) prove to be an effective leader? Currently he is the head of the Patriots for Europe in the European Parliament, which gives him visibility and a network with the like-minded parties in Europe.
His youth and inexperience could be a challenge for keeping the anti-war faction together. However, the Patriots network has other experienced representatives, such as Orban and Salvini, to lean on in this regard.
Ultimately, the appeal and the resilience of the anti-war, pro-diplomacy voices in Europe does not depend solely on personalities, but on broader trends, such as war fatigue, changes in U.S. foreign policy under President Donald Trump, the battleground situation in Ukraine, social and economic pressures stemming from the militarization drive, and the growing perception that the European publics were not really engaged by the elites in a proper democratic debate on the nature of threats facing Europe.
These currents exist, and they will find their champions, regardless of Marine Le Pen’s personal fate.
keep readingShow less
Top image credit: Sudan's army chief Abdel Fattah al-Burhan gestures to soldiers inside the presidential palace after the Sudanese army said it had taken control of the building, in the capital Khartoum, Sudan March 26, 2025. Sudan Transitional Sovereignty Council/Handout via REUTERS
In the final days of Ramadan, before Mecca's Grand Mosque, Sudan's de facto president and army chief, General Abdel Fattah al-Burhan knelt in prayer beside Saudi Crown Prince Mohammed Bin Salman. Al-Burhan had arrived in the kingdom just two days after his troops dealt a significant blow to the paramilitary Rapid Support Forces (RSF), recapturing the capital Khartoum after two years of civil war. Missing from the frame was the United Arab Emirates (UAE), the Gulf power that has backed al-Burhan’s rivals in Sudan’s civil war with arms, mercenaries, and political cover.
The scene captured the essence of a deepening rift between Saudi Arabia and the UAE — once allies in reshaping the Arab world, now architects of competing visions for Sudan and the region.
For two years, Sudan has been enveloped in chaos. The conflict that erupted in April 2023 between the Sudanese Armed forces (SAF) and the RSF, led by General Mohamed Hamdan Dagalo "Hemedti," has inflicted immense suffering: an estimated 150,000 killed, allegations of mass atrocities staining both sides but particularly the RSF in Darfur, 12 million displaced, and over half the population facing acute food insecurity.
Khartoum, once a symbol of confluence, bears deep scars — widespread destruction, looted homes, and streets haunted by the unburied dead. It was against this backdrop of devastation and military gains that al-Burhan made his trip across the Red Sea.
Early in the conflict, Saudi Arabia played a prominent role by facilitating the evacuation of thousands of foreigners via Port Sudan, an effort that garnered significant goodwill. Building on this, and alongside the United States, the kingdom stepped into the role of mediator hosting the Jeddah ceasefire talks in May 2023.
This mediation aligned with Riyadh’s broader strategic pivot toward de-escalation, evident in its rapprochement with Iran and its transformation from aggressor to peacemaker in Yemen. Instability across the Red Sea poses a direct threat to the kingdom’s ambitious Vision 2030 economic overhaul — particularly its crown-jewel projects like NEOM and the Red Sea tourism megaprojects along its western coastline, as well as the Yanbu Terminal expansion, which aims to diversify oil export routes away from the Strait of Hormuz. Such turmoil also risks undermining Saudi Arabia’s critical food security investments in Sudan, where vast agricultural ventures had become a linchpin of bilateral ties.
However, the Jeddah process withered and the commitments signed on paper dissolved under the reality of continued fighting. A subsequent U.S.-led effort in Geneva, pivoting to humanitarian access after the Jeddah talks collapsed, faltered when the SAF boycotted the talks entirely. By 2025, the return of President Donald Trump’s “America First” doctrine gutted what remained of American diplomatic capital. USAID’s funding slashes — which shuttered 77% of Sudan’s emergency food kitchens — not only deepened famine but stripped Washington of a key lever it could use to compel concessions. With the U.S. retreating inward, the vacuum proved irresistible to Saudi Arabia.
The tipping point arrived in February 2025. As the RSF and its allies formalized their charter for a parallel administration in Nairobi, Saudi Arabia, alongside Qatar and Kuwait, issued a firm public rejection. The Saudi Foreign Ministry unequivocally stated its opposition to "any illegitimate steps taken outside Sudan’s official institutions that threaten its unity.”
Al-Burhan’s recent visit to Saudi Arabia and its timing solidified this alignment. The agreement announced by both nations during the visit to establish a “coordination council to strengthen relations” signaled long-term engagement, moving beyond the neutral arbiter role. Crucially, this meeting directly followed a high-level Saudi delegation's visit to Port Sudan days earlier, focused squarely on reconstruction.
While Riyadh actively cultivates the role of regional stabilizer, Abu Dhabi faces mounting scrutiny regarding its alleged role in fueling the RSF’s war effort.
In March 2025, Sudan filed a case at the International Court of Justice, accusing the UAE of violating the Genocide Convention through its alleged military, financial, and political support for the RSF, thereby facilitating atrocities, particularly the ethnic cleansing of the Masalit in West Darfur. While the UAE’s foreign minister dismissed the case as "feeble media maneuvers," the charges echo findings from a U.N. Panel of Experts report, which deemed evidence of UAE arms supplies (including drones and air defenses) to the RSF as "credible."
This alleged support has triggered significant political fallout in Washington. U.S. lawmakers Sen. Chris Van Hollen (D-Md.) and Rep. Sara Jacobs (D-Calif.) publicly confirmed in January, citing administration briefings, that the UAE was indeed arming the RSF, directly contradicting prior assurances it gave the Biden administration. Rep. Gregory Meeks (D-N.Y.), ranking member of the House Foreign Affairs Committee, also placed holds on arms sales to the UAE over its role in Sudan.
The UAE's actions in Sudan appear consistent with a wider regional modus operandi. Abu Dhabi’s playbook involves empowering non-state actors, often with secessionist leanings, to secure access to resources and strategic geography. We see this pattern in Libya with its backing of Khalifa Haftar, and in Yemen through its enduring support for the Southern Transitional Council (STC), whose push for independence directly counters Saudi efforts to maintain Yemeni unity under the Presidential Leadership Council (PLC).
Somalia offers another vivid example, where the UAE circumvented Mogadishu to directly arm and fund regional entities like Puntland (reportedly using its Bosaso base for RSF resupply), Somaliland, and Jubaland, thereby fragmenting the country while securing coastal footholds. The announcement of the RSF's parallel government in Nairobi last month seemed a direct application of these tactics. The UAE finalized a $1.5 billion loan to Kenya the same week, prompting speculation that its influence played a role in Nairobi hosting the event.
The widening gulf over Sudan, therefore, is not an isolated disagreement but symptomatic of a deeper strategic divergence between Riyadh and Abu Dhabi. Where they once coordinated closely, particularly in countering the perceived threat of the Muslim Brotherhood and attempting to reshape the GCC during the Qatar blockade, their paths now diverge sharply.
Economically, they compete fiercely, with Saudi Arabia challenging Dubai's business hub status through policies requiring regional HQs in Riyadh and launching rival mega-projects. Within OPEC+, tensions have simmered between the two over production quotas, reflecting differing priorities and misaligned projections on the proximity of the decarbonized future. Even maritime borders near the Yasat Islands has become a point of contention, with Riyadh lodging complaints at the U.N. against Abu Dhabi's unilateral demarcation of the potentially oil-rich area.
This rivalry now spills into the public domain via social media. Recent online clashes saw well-known and widely followed Saudi commentators brand Emirati counterparts as "outcasts," describing them as being "hated by Arabs and Muslims." In tightly controlled media environments, such sharp exchanges often reflect official displeasure.
Ultimately, Sudan is paying the price for this fractured Gulf relationship. Saudi Arabia, driven by its Vision 2030 imperatives and a desire to reassert regional leadership through stability and state institutions, has placed its bet on the SAF. The UAE, focused on resource access and countering perceived ideological threats, continues its alleged support for the RSF despite the mounting condemnation.
As long as the rivalry persists, Sudan will remain tragically caught in the crossfire, its future held hostage by a geopolitical struggle reshaping the contours of power across the region.
keep readingShow less
Top image credit: NEWPORT NEWS, Va. (July 10, 2019) The upper bow unit of the future aircraft carrier USS John F. Kennedy (CVN 79) is fitted to the primary structure of the ship, July 10, 2019, at Huntington Ingalls Industries Newport News (U.S. Navy photo courtesy of Huntington Ingalls Industries by Matt Hildreth/Released)
“We are also going to resurrect the American shipbuilding industry, including commercial shipbuilding and military shipbuilding,” President Trump said during his March 6 joint address to Congress.
The president did not break new ground with the announcement. Virtually every year, Navy and industry leaders complain that the United States does not invest enough in the nation’s shipbuilding facilities. Yet according to the Congressional Budget Office, lawmakers have appropriated more shipbuilding funds than the president requested for at least 17 of the past 20 years. Even with the extra funds, the Navy’s major shipbuilding programs have consistently fallen behind schedule and over budget.
Over the next three years, the Navy plans on retiring 13 more ships than it will commission, shrinking the fleet to 283 ships by 2027. According to the Navy’s current plan, the fleet will grow to 515 crewed and uncrewed vessels by 2054. To reach that goal, the Congressional Budget Office estimates the Navy will spend more than $1 trillion, nearly $36 billion each year for the next three decades on shipbuilding alone.
It remains unclear if the Navy can realize its plan, even if Congress provides the funds. Ramping up naval construction is not simply a matter of resources. The Navy spent $2.3 billion between 2018 and 2023 to increase the capacity of the submarine shipyards. Despite this investment, the production rate for Virginia-class attack submarines decreased from around two boats per year to 1.2.
In just 10 years after the end of the Cold War, the number of skilled shipyard workers shrank from 62,000 to 21,000. The number of workers has increased since 2001, but shortages remain. During a 2024 symposium, the director of the Navy’s Submarine Industrial Base Program said the United States needs to hire 140,000 workers just to meet the needs of the current submarine building program.
One of the best ways for the Navy to ease the current shipbuilding struggles is to pursue better ship designs. The constant pursuit of exquisite technology and excessively complex ship designs results in longer construction times. The insidious practice of concurrency — beginning construction of a ship before the design is complete — causes further delays. As design flaws are discovered during construction, workers must go back and re-do already completed work. These often require extensive retrofitting, consuming substantial time and money. With limited shipbuilding facilities, longer construction times create a backlog that only exacerbates industry’s ability to meet demand.
Navy leaders could provide some relief to the haggard shipyards by simplifying ship designs. Simplicity should always be a key design parameter in any weapon program. Designs based on proven technology can be developed and built faster. An acquisition strategy that prioritizes simplicity will keep the Navy and other services one step ahead of obsolescence.
Navy leaders should have learned this lesson from the Littoral Combat Ship debacle. That program was intended to be the small surface combatant of the future with a complicated modular design to swap out specialized equipment for different missions. Engineers could not get that gimmick to work properly, and the scheme was eventually abandoned. The program has been beset by a string of embarrassing maintenance failures and questions about its combat survivability. The Navy is now in the process of retiring these troublesome ships. The Littoral Combat Ship program’s only milestone achievement is joining the mothball fleet early.
Before throwing more money at the shipbuilding problem, the nation’s civilian and uniformed military leaders should first change their acquisition strategy to lessen the burden on the overworked shipyards already devoted to naval warships. The Congressional Budget Office recommended the Navy develop a missile corvette that can be built by the nation’s other shipyards. The Navy has used a similar approach of licensing designs to commercial shipbuilders in the past to meet its shipbuilding goals to great effect. The idea has merit today because doing so would expand both the size of the fleet and the industrial base.
The Navy’s challenges didn’t crop up overnight, and they won’t be solved overnight. Another infusion of taxpayer money is unlikely to resolve the shipbuilding industry’s capacity limits.
Subscribe now to our weekly round-up and don't miss a beat with your favorite RS contributors and reporters, as well as staff analysis, opinion, and news promoting a positive, non-partisan vision of U.S. foreign policy.