On August 1, as the clock struck midnight Eastern Time, a new era in global trade was inaugurated — one that might be remembered not for its reciprocity or fairness, but for the brute leverage of American power. With the rollout of sweeping new reciprocal tariffs under President Donald Trump’s so-called “Liberation Day” strategy, dozens of nations were forced into last-minute trade deals that, beneath the surface, bear a striking resemblance to the “unequal treaties” of the 19th century. Only this time, they were not written at gunpoint, but under threat of economic coercion.
The United States, claiming to be correcting trade deficits and restoring domestic manufacturing, has essentially coerced trading partners into accepting higher tariffs, ceding regulatory ground and committing to strategic economic realignments, all while ensuring minimal concessions on its own part. For countries such as Vietnam and Indonesia, and even the European Union, the consequences could be far-reaching, reshaping industrial policies, altering investment incentives and, most importantly, undermining economic sovereignty.
The Trump administration's public rationale for this aggressive trade overhaul is the need to rebalance global trade deficits. The claim is straightforward: the US has been losing in trade and it’s time to “even the playing field.” However, this rhetoric masks a complex and asymmetric web of tariffs and conditions that belie the supposed principle of reciprocity.
Take Vietnam, for instance. Under its deal with Washington, Hanoi agreed to a 20% tariff on most exports to the US, plus a staggering 40% levy on transshipped goods; a direct blow to Vietnam’s unique status as a production hub for global giants like Foxconn, Apple, Intel, and Nike. With 71.7% of Vietnamese exports coming from foreign-invested enterprises, this transshipment clause is more than a customs technicality; it strikes at the heart of Vietnam’s export-driven growth model. In return Vietnam was pressured into offering zero tariffs on select US imports, including large-engine automobiles, an almost negligible sector in Vietnam’s domestic market but a significant win for US exporters.
Indonesia, similarly, secured a slightly lower tariff rate — 19% instead of the initially threatened 32% — but only by agreeing to purchase US Boeing aircraft and remove or reduce various trade barriers.
Beyond tariffs, the deals increasingly intrude upon the internal economic policies of sovereign states. Embedded in these trade arrangements are demands regarding "transshipment restrictions" and "supply chain security" — vague yet powerful instruments that allow the US to dictate how and where its partners manufacture goods. These clauses give Washington indirect influence over national industrial strategies, particularly in countries where foreign direct investment forms the backbone of growth.
For the European Union, the stakes are no less severe. The deal demanded a $600 billion investment from EU states into the US economy, effectively exporting European capital and potentially jobs to American soil. Even more contentious is the clause requiring the EU to buy $750 billion worth of US energy over three years, a move that French officials bluntly called “capitulation.” Energy policy, long considered a pillar of national sovereignty, is now subordinated to bilateral trade enforcement mechanisms.
In trade diplomacy, access to the US consumer market is perhaps the most coveted prize. The Trump administration has weaponised this leverage to extract far-reaching concessions. For some countries, the alternative to signing a deal is punitive: Mexico faces a 25% blanket tariff and Canada, a top US trading partner, could see tariffs of up to 35% on goods not compliant with the existing USMCA.
Meanwhile, India — despite being dubbed a “friend” by Trump — has been hit with a 25% tariff across the board, plus an unspecified penalty tied to its energy dealings with Russia. Such measures reinforce the view that these “agreements” are less about trade and more about aligning partners with US geopolitical objectives.
Even where countries managed to avoid worst-case tariffs, the deals were often asymmetrical. South Korea, for example, agreed to a 15% tariff rate on its exports while pledging $350 billion in US investments and granting zero tariffs on American agricultural and automobile exports. These are not trade negotiations in the traditional sense. They are economic ultimatums wrapped in diplomatic language.
Ironically, while these deals are framed as a win for American workers, they may end up harming US consumers and industries. According to the Yale Budget Lab, the average US household could face $2,400 in additional annual costs due to higher prices on imported goods — effectively a hidden tax. Moreover, American industries that rely on foreign components, like electronics, pharmaceuticals, and textiles, will face disrupted supply chains and rising production costs.
This suggests that the primary beneficiaries of these aggressive trade deals are not US consumers or workers, but rather a political narrative built around economic nationalism and short-term geopolitical gains.
What makes these modern trade pacts so unsettling is how closely they echo the “unequal treaties” of colonial history. In the 19th century, Western powers extracted lopsided agreements from Asian nations, forcing them to open ports, accept foreign jurisdiction and buy unwanted goods. Today, the US is not demanding extraterritorial rights, but it is imposing conditions that interfere with national industrial policies, force purchases of US products, and limit the autonomy of states to craft their own trade strategies.
In the longer term, this coercive trade strategy may backfire by undermining the very multilateral institutions that have governed global trade for decades. The World Trade Organisation, already weakened, is increasingly sidelined as bilateral power politics dominate. Meanwhile, countries that feel cornered by US tactics may seek alternative trading blocs, perhaps turning to China, regional groupings, or even forming counter-alliances.
Pierre-Olivier Gourinchas, chief economist at the IMF, warned this week of the broader risk: “Restoring stability in trade policy is essential to reduce policy uncertainty… Collective efforts should be made to restore and improve the global trading system,” Al Jazeera quoted him as saying. His words are a plea not just for economic sanity, but for the preservation of a rules-based order.
While the US has every right to renegotiate trade terms that it deems unfair, fairness must be mutual. These new “agreements,” far from establishing equitable exchange, are imposing a 21st-century version of the unequal treaty — a shift that may have profound consequences for global diplomacy, development and international economic cooperation.