To you or me, Donald Trump’s self-bestowed epithet “Tariff Man” might sound like a tragically lame superhero that the creatives at Marvel Comics phoned in after a heavy night’s drinking, but for him it epitomises the global projection of American virility.
For Trump, import taxes are the philosopher’s stone that turns base metal into gold. They coerce trading partners into toeing US lines, close deficits (bilateral and overall) by keeping out cheap dumped imports, raise revenue, create jobs, revive manufacturing and generally make America great again, all in one go. Yesterday, he announced he would reappoint fellow tariff obsessive Peter Navarro, who served in his first administration, to a senior trade role in the White House.
Even before taking office Trump has threatened them twice: against Mexico and Canada if they don’t sort out immigration and the fentanyl trade, and against the Brics middle-income countries for their (almost non-existent) campaign for a currency to replace the US dollar.