The US and India could have plenty in common. But the Cold War put geopolitical alliance on ice — and made harsh tariffs look unavoidable
President Trump’s announcement of sweeping new tariffs on India, totaling 50%, should dispel illusions that the US–India relationship is a warm alliance of like-minded democracies.
The move marks a sharp escalation in what is now openly a trade war. Trump cited India’s ongoing imports of discounted Russian oil, accusing New Delhi of helping fund Moscow’s war machine and selling refined Russian crude on the open market for profit. India responded sharply, hinting at retaliation. Yet Trump pressed on: The first 25% tariff takes effect this week, with another 25% kicking in later this month.
This is one of the harshest tariff regimes the US has ever imposed on a major trading partner — and it’s aimed at a country Washington claims to view as a key ally.
On paper, India looks like the perfect partner. It’s the world’s most populous democracy, largely English-speaking, and deeply embedded in the US economy. Bilateral trade in goods and services hit $212 billion in 2024, with the US trade deficit at about $46 billion. India serves as a key manufacturing hub for pharmaceuticals, apparel and tech.
The US sees India as a counterweight to China in the Indo-Pacific. But India doesn’t see the relationship through sentimental eyes.
Since the Cold War, New Delhi has pursued a doctrine of non-alignment, which has evolved into strategic autonomy. It joins US-led forums like the Quad — in which, alongside Japan and Australia, they aim to promote a free and open Indo-Pacific without demanding formal allegiance. But India is also a member of the BRICS group of developing nations and the Shanghai Cooperation Organization. It buys weapons from the US and France, but also Russia, maintaining friendly ties with Iran and boycotting no one.
That instinct is rooted in deep historical memory. Colonized by Britain and sidelined by US Cold War support for Pakistan, India emerged with a fierce desire to avoid foreign dependency. Especially under the nationalist Prime Minister Narendra Modi, it sees itself not as a junior partner in a Western-led order but as a civilizational power asserting its own sovereignty.
This helps explain India’s refusal to isolate Russia over the Ukraine war. Russia is a long-time defense partner and energy supplier. India now imports more than a third of its oil from Russia, totaling over $50 billion annually — which is a huge spike since 2021, meaning India has taken advantage of Russia’s discounts, and which makes it the largest importer of Russian crude ahead of China and Iran. Some of that oil is refined and re-exported to Western markets through a sanctions loophole.
It’s a lucrative arrangement India has no intention of abandoning — and it keeps Vladimir Putin in business.
That’s the connection driving events these past few weeks: As Trump has lost faith in Putin’s willingness to engage on ending the Ukraine war, so has his impatience with Modi gone through the roof.
But Trump’s response — tariffs as geopolitical punishment — is unusual. Tariffs are typically used to protect domestic industry. Using them to enforce foreign policy aims introduces a different logic. Is it madness? Not entirely. Tariffs are one of the few levers a president can pull unilaterally. But the India case exposes the risks of this approach.
India is unlikely to cave. With 1.4 billion people (the most in the world), a $4.2 trillion economy (tied with Japan for fourth in the world) and decent economic growth, it doesn’t take kindly to coercion. Worse, this tactic invites charges of hypocrisy. Other countries still trade with Russia in fertilizer, chemicals and refined products.
There’s also blowback. Tariffs generally raise prices for US consumers, particularly in sectors like generic drugs and clothing. They also threaten to undermine supply chain shifts away from China. Companies like Apple have moved production to India — only to find their new base hit with punitive tariffs. Meanwhile, India may retaliate against US exports in energy and aerospace.
American policymakers of the pre-Trump era spoke of a shared democratic identity and mutual values. But the real relationship is transactional. The US wants India’s help in containing China and securing global supply chains. India wants American technology, markets and investment. That’s why cooperative efforts like the iCET tech partnership and semiconductor joint ventures may succeed where talk of “friendship” falls flat.
The signs of this can be subtle. For example, Trump has been bragging in recent weeks about having averted war between India and Pakistan earlier this year. Putting aside the likely exaggeration, it did not escape notice in New Delhi that he was placing India — an imperfect but pluralistic democracy — on equal footing with its less-than-democratic rival. For a country deeply conscious of its global standing, this surely reinforced the perception that the Trump administration views India not as a partner of principle, but as just another actor to be cajoled as the situation demands.
So it is no surprise that trade negotiations have repeatedly stalled over tariffs and market access. India maintains high barriers on agricultural imports and resists regulatory alignment. The US complains of protectionism; India sees imperialism. Neither is entirely wrong. India’s foreign policy is rational, pragmatic, occasionally aggressive and ruthlessly self-interested. Trump’s tariffs may sting, but they won’t alter that fact.
The discomfort lies in letting go of the fantasy that India is a democratic soulmate. If both sides accept that the relationship is not built on shared values but overlapping interests, then real partnership is still possible. For the likes of Trump and Modi, that’s about the best that you can hope for.
Dan Perry led Associated Press coverage in Europe, the Middle East, and Africa, and served as AP’s special international editor. He publishes Ask Questions Later on Substack.