The madness began on 02 April 2025. Donald Trump, never one to disappoint in the drama department, decided it was time to unleash his so-called “reciprocal” tariffs on the world. I say “so-called” because what it really looked like was the actions of a raving lunatic waving a very large stick around—hoping to look strong while actually wrecking the room.
He slapped a blanket 10% tariff on practically everything imported into the United States, effective from the fifth of April. No exceptions, no finesse—just a sweeping tax on the world, including some countries and territories that most Americans probably couldn’t even find on a map. But that wasn’t enough. For countries that dared to run a trade surplus with the US—China, the European Union, Japan, South Korea, Taiwan—he decided they deserved something extra. So he rolled out the real meat of the madness: “reciprocal” tariffs at much higher rates, starting on the ninth of April. China, naturally, got singled out for special treatment—34% tariffs right off the bat, on top of what was already in place.
And just like that, the world’s stock markets reeled. Investors panicked. Trillions wiped off global market valuations almost overnight. The Dow plummeted, the FTSE crashed and the Nikkei followed suit in a domino effect of red screens and frantic sell-offs. The volatility index, the VIX, spiked to levels not seen since the height of the 2020 pandemic, signalling extreme market fear. Safe havens like gold and the Swiss franc surged, as investors scrambled to protect their assets. Nobody—literally nobody—had any idea what came next. Trump had done what even major recessions sometimes fail to do: he single-handedly roiled global financial markets with one press conference. Trading floors were a scene of pandemonium, with traders shouting orders and analysts scrambling to reassess their models, which had suddenly become useless. The financial press went into overdrive, headlines screamed about impending economic doom.
On 03 April 2025, Canada had had enough of Trump’s nonsense. Prime Minister Mark Carney retaliated with a 25% tariff on US auto imports. Then came China a day later, matching the 34% tariff and announcing plans to restrict rare earth exports—critical materials for high-tech manufacturing. They also blacklisted 27 US companies. No surprises there. China never blinks, and they certainly didn’t this time.
By 05 April 2025, Trump’s across-the-board 10% tariff officially kicked in. But when 09 April 2025 rolled around—the day everyone expected the next escalation—Trump pulled a semi-surprise: a 90-day pause on most of the additional tariffs… except for China, which got slapped with a 125% tariff. Not to be outdone, China raised theirs to 84%, effective immediately.
The European Union joined the fray too. They cleared retaliatory tariffs on $23 billion worth of US goods, with a staggered implementation plan. Canada was already enforcing its auto tariff response. And just when everyone thought that was the end of it, the White House felt the need to clarify—because apparently even they got confused—that the total tariff on Chinese goods was now 145%.
Throughout this chaotic week, the markets continued their wild swings. Every tweet, every press release, every murmur of a policy shift sent shockwaves across trading floors. Investors were on edge, unsure whether to buy, sell or just wait it out. Uncertainty alone was enough to trigger massive losses. Algorithmic trading and human panic fed off each other, amplifying the volatility. Long-term strategies were thrown out the window, replaced by short-term desperation and damage control.
Amidst the escalating trade war, Xi Jinping responded with a series of pointed remarks, emphasising China's resilience and rejecting what he called “bullying tactics.” He declared that China’s economy was strong enough to withstand external pressure, highlighting efforts to boost domestic consumption and diversify trade partnerships. “China will not yield to unilateral pressure,” he said, framing the US tariffs as a violation of international trade rules. He went on to outline China’s strategic response: retaliatory tariffs, export controls on critical materials and deeper trade ties with other nations. The message couldn’t have been clearer—China wasn’t going to back down, and it would use every economic lever at its disposal to push back.
Adding to this, Chinese officials publicly dismissed Trump’s ballooning tariffs as “nonsense,” bluntly stating that the 125% retaliatory tariff would be their final move. They signalled that any further escalation from the US would not be met with matching increases, suggesting they had no intention of dragging the tit-for-tat battle into mutually assured destruction. Instead, they hinted at other, unspecified measures—more strategic and likely less visible. Many analysts interpreted this as a calculated shift, a move away from headline-grabbing tariffs toward quieter, potentially more targeted non-tariff retaliation. If not de-escalation, then at least a conscious step back from the brink.
Tech giants, who had been busy chartering cargo flights to bring in iPhones from India just to avoid tariffs, could finally breathe again. Had the exemption not come through, analysts were warning of price hikes that would’ve made iPhones unaffordable to anyone not named Elon Musk. So yes, crisis averted for the moment.
But what a circus. One man’s impulse-driven decisions sent half the world scrambling, and the other half fuming. Stock markets rocked. Economies braced. And through it all, Trump stood at the centre, convinced the world was about to come kneeling to him in gratitude to kiss his ass.
To the rest of us, it looked more like the global economy being dragged into a ditch by a megalomanic man with a sledgehammer and a very loud megaphone. He insulted his allies, punched his rivals and then acted surprised when they fought back.
And still, some people cheered him on.
Honestly, what do you even say to that?
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