I stood at the edge of the Peace Bridge yesterday, watching trucks inch forward into U.S. customs. The line stretched back nearly a mile into Fort Erie, Ontario, while customs officials processed each vehicle with new, intensified scrutiny. What was once a smooth four-hour crossing for most commercial vehicles now routinely takes eight.
“We’ve been sitting here since 4 a.m.,” said Martin Levesque, a Quebec-based truck driver hauling auto parts to Buffalo. “My company is already talking about cutting routes if this keeps up.”
This scene is playing out across the 5,525-mile border as President Trump’s controversial tariff policy enters its second month. The 10% tariff on Canadian goods—part of what the administration calls its “Border Security Financing Initiative“—has sent economic tremors through both nations and strained the world’s largest bilateral trading relationship.
Prime Minister Carney summoned his cabinet for emergency meetings last week after the U.S. Treasury Department announced plans to increase these tariffs to 15% by July unless Canadian authorities demonstrate “substantial cooperation” with expanded U.S. immigration enforcement objectives along the northern border.
“We’re facing a fundamental misalignment of facts,” Carney told reporters in Ottawa. “The United States is attempting to finance border operations through tariffs on a trusted ally when the actual immigration challenges occur elsewhere.”
Data from both Canadian and American border agencies confirm Carney’s assessment. U.S. Customs and Border Protection documented approximately 189,000 encounters at the southern border in April compared to just 4,200 at the Canadian border during the same period, according to official statistics.
Trump administration officials maintain their position that Canada has become a “backdoor entry point” for migrants and asylum seekers attempting to reach the United States. Secretary of Homeland Security Tom Cotton claimed during a press briefing that “sophisticated smuggling operations” are exploiting the northern border’s relatively less fortified infrastructure.
The Canadian Ambassador to the United States, Kirsten Hillman, disputed this characterization in our conversation at her Washington office. “We’ve increased border security funding by 28% over three years and have collaborated extensively with U.S. agencies on intelligence sharing,” she explained, pointing to a binder of statistical reports on her desk. “These tariffs aren’t about security—they’re about leverage.”
Economic consequences are mounting quickly. The Business Council of Canada estimates losses of approximately $4.2 billion in the first month alone, with small businesses bearing the heaviest burden. The integrated supply chains between American and Canadian manufacturers, particularly in automotive, agriculture, and energy sectors, mean these costs ultimately flow in both directions.
In Detroit, where nearly 30% of U.S.-Canada trade crosses via the Ambassador Bridge and Detroit-Windsor Tunnel, manufacturing facilities are adjusting production schedules to account for delayed components. General Motors temporarily reduced shifts at its Michigan assembly plants last week, citing parts shortages.
“You can’t simply reroute 75 years of integrated economic infrastructure overnight,” explained Maryscott Greenwood, CEO of the Canadian American Business Council. “These are the most integrated economies on earth, with goods often crossing the border multiple times during production.”
The tariffs are particularly controversial given the recent ratification of the United States-Mexico-Canada Agreement (USMCA), which explicitly prohibits arbitrary tariffs between signatories. Legal experts suggest Canada has grounds for a formal dispute under the agreement’s provisions.
“This creates a troubling precedent,” said Christopher Sands, director of the Wilson Center’s Canada Institute. “Using trade as leverage for immigration policy erodes the predictability that makes cross-border commerce function.”
Indigenous communities with territories spanning the border have also voiced concerns. The Mohawk Council of Akwesasne, whose territory straddles Ontario, Quebec, and New York State
