Trump’s foreign policy is not transactional. It is tributary. |
Since 2017, nearly every assessment of Donald Trump’s foreign policy has reached for the same word: transactional. The label suggests a president focused on short-term economic deals, indifferent to ideology, uninterested in the political character of the states he deals with. It became the consensus view among scholars and journalists alike.
That consensus is wrong, or at least it is now outdated. Since returning to power in 2025, Trump’s approach to international relations has shifted from transactional to something better described as tributary: other states are expected not to negotiate with him but to submit to him. Canada, as a traditional ally built into the liberal order Trump wants to dismantle, faces this pressure acutely.
What “transactional” actually means
Scholars who have studied transactional foreign policy identify five defining characteristics: preference for bilateral over multilateral arrangements; pursuit of near-term economic gains rather than durable commitments; a zero-sum view of international relations; indifference to the political systems of partner states; and no overarching strategic vision. On this reading, Trump wanted better terms for America and was unconcerned with whom he dealt with or how their governments were run.
Some of this applied during Trump’s first term, when Republican senators, mainstream cabinet members, and the bureaucracy constrained his instincts. But in his second term, those constraints have largely vanished. With Congress and cabinet now aligned to his worldview rather than conventional Republican doctrine, he has moved to implement what look like his genuine instincts.
Tariffs without economic logic
Tariffs sit at the centre of Trump’s foreign policy, and they reveal just how poorly the transactional label fits. On 2 April 2025, branded “Liberation Day”, a blanket minimum of ten percent was applied to virtually the entire world, calculated using a formula that drew immediate mockery. China ultimately faced a cumulative rate of 145 percent; the levy on steel and aluminium imports was doubled to 50 percent, hitting Canada especially hard.
The administration offered two justifications: bringing manufacturing jobs back to the United States, and forcing other countries to negotiate better trade deals. These goals contradict each other. Reshoring manufacturing is a long-term project, not a short-term gain. And if manufacturers are supposed to believe the tariffs are permanent enough to justify relocating production, the tariffs cannot simultaneously serve as bargaining chips to be traded away in negotiations.
His earlier trade war with China offers a cautionary lesson. Driving tariffs sharply upward in 2018 to pressure Beijing into sweeping economic changes produced no such changes: China retaliated, the US trade deficit widened, and the 2020 agreement under which Beijing pledged to purchase an additional $200 billion in American goods went largely unmet. When asked about the burden his tariffs place on American consumers, Trump responded in April 2025: “Maybe the children will have two dolls instead of thirty.”
Not indifferent to ideology
If Trump were truly transactional, he would be indifferent to the ideology of the states he deals with. He is not. He assigned blame for Russia’s war to Ukraine itself, and pushed a ceasefire framework skewed heavily toward Russian interests: Moscow would keep its territorial gains, Kyiv would receive no American security commitments, and NATO membership would remain permanently out of reach. His administration’s posture toward traditional European allies has ranged from cool to hostile, while working to cultivate a warmer relationship with Moscow. His tariffs have been levied broadly across the Indo-Pacific, hitting potential partners in the effort to contain China, the one state a genuinely realist president would focus on balancing.
Trump has also failed the basic test of realism. Withdrawing from the Trans-Pacific Partnership — which had been designed to build a counterweight to Chinese economic power across the Asia-Pacific — was itself an anti-realist move. He antagonized East Asian allies whose cooperation is essential to that effort. As Bob Woodward has reported, Trump once remarked that “the generals aren’t sufficiently focused on getting or making money.”
If the transactional label does not fit, what does? The better analogy is the historic East Asian tributary system. Under the Qing dynasty, a hierarchical order placed China at the centre; neighbouring states sent delegations at regular intervals to acknowledge imperial authority. The delegations engaged in trade, but the trade was secondary. What mattered was the act of submission, the acknowledgment of China as the Middle Kingdom.
Trump’s tariffs function similarly. The shockingly high rates are less about securing favourable trade terms than about compelling other states to come to Washington and genuflect. Business leaders and foreign heads of state are expected to kowtow. So are universities, law firms, and legacy media outlets. European leaders have managed to reduce the hostility directed at them by showering Trump with flattery, crediting him publicly for compelling their governments to raise defence spending. The terms of the deals matter less than the performance of deference.
What Canada should do
Trump’s treatment of Canada makes sense through this tributary lens. The bilateral relationship between the two countries has served for decades as both an embodiment and a pillar of the liberal international order. Dismantling its liberal foundations is how Trump dismantles the order itself.
Canadians must not give in. Australia’s experience is instructive: when Beijing imposed sweeping sanctions after Canberra called for an international inquiry into Covid-19’s origins, Australia held its ground and eventually prevailed. Canada faces a comparable test — and must keep the door to talks open while being clear-eyed about the fact that Trump’s goal is domination, not a deal. Prime Minister Mark Carney struck the right note when he told Trump at the White House that “Canada is not for sale.”
Most Americans want no part of this imperial project. Many hold genuine warmth toward Canada and Canadians, and there is no real constituency for rupturing the relationship. Standing firm, as Australia demonstrated, is how you outlast coercion. What Canada and Europe do now matters well beyond their own borders. The liberal international order that underpins long-term American security is also on the line.
Robert S. Snyder’s recent article, “The Myth of Trump’s Transactional Foreign Policy—and Canada’s Response,” is published in International Journal and available here.