Thursday 17 Sep 2026
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There is an old rule in kitchens, markets and international politics: the person who controls the supply controls the room.

Canada has just been reminded of it.

On Aug 21, Prime Minister Mark Carney suspended trade negotiations with Washington and ordered his negotiators home. Hours later, the United States dropped a 50% tariff on roughly C$27.6 billion — about US$20 billion (RM80.5 billion) — of Canadian goods.

Ottawa answered as governments do when the cameras are rolling and national pride is bleeding: indignation, resolve and the promise of retaliation. Canada announced matching tariffs of 15%, 25% and 50% on selected American products, effective Sept 8.

The language was heroic. The arithmetic was not.

Canada is fighting a country whose economy is more than ten times its size and which buys 71.7% of Canadian merchandise exports. That figure has fallen from 75.9% in 2024, but it still represents an astonishing concentration of economic risk. Nearly three dollars out of every four that Canada earns from exported goods still depend on access to one customer.

And when one customer buys nearly everything you sell, that customer is no longer merely a customer.

It is your landlord.

The menu was never free

Washington reached back into the pantry of the Great Depression for its weapon: Section 338 of the US Tariff Act of 1930, an obscure provision allowing tariffs of up to 50 % against countries judged to discriminate against American commerce.

The stated complaints involve Canadian treatment of American motor vehicles, alcoholic beverages and dairy products. The resulting tariffs hit a broader plate of Canadian exports, including food, wood products, machinery, sporting goods and other manufactured items.

Ottawa is right to be furious.

The United States is using the weight of its market to extract concessions it could not obtain through ordinary bargaining. It is applying force outside the comfortable rituals of continental partnership, despite Canada being bound to it through the Canada-US-Mexico Agreement (Cusma), Nato, the G7, the Five Eyes intelligence alliance and more official handshakes than anyone could reasonably count.

But Canada is not an immaculate martyr nailed to the cross of free trade.

No country is.

Canada preaches open markets while operating a supply-management system for dairy, poultry and eggs protected by tightly controlled import quotas. Above those quotas, tariffs can reach 298.5%. Provincial rules governing the sale of American alcohol have supplied Washington with additional political ammunition.

Canada has reasons for these policies. Protecting farmers, rural communities and domestic industries is not a uniquely Canadian vice. It is what governments do when voters, livelihoods and campaign contributions are involved.

Malaysia understands this choreography perfectly. We celebrate trade liberalisation through the Comprehensive and Progressive Agreement for Trans-Pacific Partnership and Regional Comprehensive Economic Partnership while preserving approved permits, strategic procurement preferences and the privileged position of state-linked enterprises.

Indonesia invites foreign capital with one hand and imposes forceful downstreaming requirements on nickel with the other.

Everyone believes in free trade until free trade walks into a politically sensitive industry, sits down and starts ordering people out of work.

The difference is not hypocrisy. The difference is leverage.

Canada protected its chosen sectors while allowing the rest of its economic house to lean heavily against one enormous American wall. Now the wall is moving.

Sleeping beside the elephant

In 1969, Pierre Trudeau described living next to the United States as sleeping beside an elephant. However friendly and even-tempered the beast, he said, one is affected by every twitch and grunt.

It was an excellent line.

It was also a warning Canada admired more than it obeyed.

When Richard Nixon imposed a sudden 10% import surcharge in 1971, Ottawa panicked and began talking seriously about economic diversification. Yet geography and commercial logic dragged Canada back south.

The Canada–US Free Trade Agreement arrived in 1988. The North American Free Trade Agreement followed in 1994. Cusma replaced it in 2020. Every new arrangement tightened the arteries connecting Canadian factories, energy producers and farms to the American market.

This made perfect economic sense — right up until it didn’t.

Detroit is closer to Ontario than Vancouver is. Trucks do not read speeches about strategic autonomy. Accountants do not reroute factories because a minister unveils a handsome new Indo-Pacific brochure.

An Ontario plant built to deliver automotive components across the Ambassador Bridge cannot wake up on Monday and start supplying Kuala Lumpur by Friday. The specifications differ. The buyers differ. The regulations differ. The logistics are longer and more expensive. Ports, contracts, distribution networks and trusted commercial relationships take years to build.

A free-trade agreement can unlock a door. It cannot make customers walk through it.

Diversification is not a press conference. It is plumbing: costly, unglamorous and only appreciated when something bursts.

America has changed

The comforting theory is that all of this will disappear when the political weather changes in Washington.

That theory should be buried.

American protectionism is no longer a Trumpian fever that will break after one election. It has become structural and bipartisan.

The Biden administration retained many tariffs inherited from Donald Trump’s first term, expanded “Buy American” policies and poured enormous subsidies into strategic industries through the Inflation Reduction Act and the Chips and Science Act.

Trump returned with a louder voice, a bigger hammer and fewer inhibitions. But the underlying doctrine had already crossed party lines: market access is now treated as an instrument of national security, industrial revival and geopolitical discipline.

Canada’s experience matters because Canada is not a distant rival. It is a treaty partner, military ally, intelligence partner and one of the most deeply integrated economies the United States has ever had.

If Washington will pull a Depression-era tariff weapon on Canada, Asean should abandon any belief that friendship, neutrality or participation in the right diplomatic receptions will provide immunity.

There are no sentimental relationships in trade.

There are interests, dependencies and the occasional photograph of smiling leaders pretending otherwise.

Asean’s profitable little tightrope

Southeast Asia has done extremely well from the fracture between the United States and China.

“China Plus One” strategies pushed investment into Malaysian semiconductors, Vietnamese electronics and Thai manufacturing. Companies wanted Chinese capacity without placing every egg in the same geopolitical basket. Asean became the extra basket.

It was lucrative. It was also dangerous.

Washington is already suspicious that some Southeast Asian factories function as back doors for Chinese goods trying to escape American tariffs. US investigations into solar products from Cambodia, Malaysia, Thailand and Vietnam showed precisely how quickly yesterday’s supply-chain solution can become tomorrow’s circumvention case.

If Asean allows itself to become merely the pressure-release valve between China’s factories and America’s consumers, we will be building our prosperity on somebody else’s quarrel.

That arrangement lasts only as long as Washington finds it useful.

The day American officials decide that Southeast Asian production threatens domestic factories — or that Chinese inputs have been insufficiently transformed before entering the United States — the legal machinery is ready. Section 301, Section 338, national-security tariffs or some freshly polished instrument can be wheeled out before lunch.

We may complain. We may retaliate. We may hold emergency meetings beneath chandeliers and issue statements containing the words “deep concern.”

The container ships will still stop coming.

Retaliation tastes better than it works

Retaliatory tariffs satisfy an ancient human appetite. Someone hits you; you hit back.

The crowd cheers. Flags wave. Politicians briefly look taller.

But strategic retaliation and theatrical retaliation are very different dishes.

Tariffs on American consumer products can create political pressure in carefully chosen constituencies. Tariffs on machinery, components and industrial inputs can instead punish the country imposing them. Local businesses pay more. Production costs rise. Consumers inherit the bill. Inflation spreads quietly through the economy while politicians continue describing the exercise as strength.

Canada may have no politically acceptable choice but to retaliate. A government that absorbs a 50% tariff without responding would be carved up at home.

That does not mean the pain is equal.

The United States has a continental-scale domestic market and far greater room to find alternative suppliers. Canada has a smaller population, a more concentrated export structure and production systems built around crossing the world’s longest land border.

Both countries will bleed.

One has considerably more blood.

Build more doors before the fire

Asean is home to nearly 700 million people and produces more than US$3.9 trillion in combined economic output. Yet only about 21.4% of its trade occurs within the region.

That is the real scandal.

We talk endlessly about Asean centrality while businesses still wrestle with non-tariff barriers, inconsistent standards, border delays and regulatory systems that appear to have been designed by committees that never met one another.

The answer is not to choose Washington over Beijing, or Beijing over Washington. Dependence does not become independence simply because we replace one patron with another.

The answer is to build more doors.

Deepen intra-Asean trade. Connect power grids. Modernise ports. Harmonise standards. Improve customs systems. Finance regional companies capable of serving regional consumers. Make it as ordinary for a Malaysian business to sell in the Philippines, Indonesia or Vietnam as it is to chase buyers in California or Shanghai.

Malaysia no longer holds the Asean chair — the Philippines does in 2026 — but Kuala Lumpur does not require a ceremonial gavel to push this agenda. Malaysia’s ports, semiconductor industry, financial system and position inside both the CPTPP and RCEP give it ample influence.

Canada’s decision to stand up to Washington may be principled. It may even be necessary. But courage discovered after dependence has already been weaponised is an expensive form of courage.

That is the lesson for Asean.

Treaties matter. Diplomacy matters. Alliances matter.

But none of them substitutes for having several customers, several supply routes and somewhere else to go when the biggest man in the room decides he does not like the menu.

The elephant will twitch again.

Our job is not to complain about the elephant.

Our job is to stop sleeping beneath.

* Abbi Kanthasamy is a Canadian entrepreneur, photographer and writer.

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