In mid‑April 2026 the United States are once again at the center of international debate, but the picture varies greatly depending on where one looks from. In Beijing the focus is primarily on U.S. trade and tariff policy, the dollar and the role of the Federal Reserve in the global financial system. In Brazil the conversation is about diplomatic humiliations, “recurrences of imperialism” and how President Luiz Inácio Lula da Silva is constructing a complex, contradictory stance toward Donald Trump. In Australia the spotlight is the U.S. role in the war with Iran and the broader question: to what extent should Canberra follow Washington’s lead when its own security and reputation are at stake. The common thread through these discussions is distrust of unilateral American actions and attempts to preserve maneuverability in a world where Washington remains powerful but is no longer omnipotent.
One of the main shared themes is U.S. “economic selfishness” and its consequences. In China analysts dissect in detail the combination of tough tariff policy and White House pressure on the Federal Reserve. Chinese economic commentators emphasize that the Fed’s shift to looser monetary policy in 2026 is perceived not as a technical adjustment but as part of Washington’s political course to implement the slogan “America First” by financing global imbalances. An Eastmoney piece notes that the Fed’s moves balance inflation, growth and financial stability, but that American politicians are openly pressuring the regulator to speed up rate cuts, turning the Fed’s independence into a “testing ground” for Trump’s populist rhetoric. Chinese commentators link this to the risk of losing confidence in the dollar as a stable settlement currency and to rising interest in alternatives, including the yuan and regional currency agreements. Writers at Sina Finance explicitly state that in 2026 Washington will “manipulate public opinion to pressure the Fed, export domestic problems through protectionism and undermine confidence in the dollar as a reliable settlement currency,” and that the abuse of financial sanctions increases the systemic risk of the dollar system.
On the other side of the globe, in Brazil the economic aspect of U.S. policy is overlaid on the painful backdrop of last year’s tariff conflict. The memory of Washington’s 2025 decision to impose 10 percent duties on a wide range of Brazilian imports, and then to expand tariff pressure to dozens of trading partners, is alive not only among experts but in popular perception. Brazilian analysts stress that Trump, justifying the new tariffs, portrayed trade relations as inherently unfavorable for the U.S., while the actual trade balance in 2024 showed a surplus for America in both goods and services. This gives ammunition to those who see Washington’s current trade policy not as protection of “Ohio jobs,” but as a tool of political pressure and a symbol of disregard for the rules of multilateral trade. Brazilian media regularly compare the current situation to the era of unilateral sanctions and embargoes of the Cold War, only now the targets include formal U.S. partners.
The Chinese discourse on the American economic line is broader and more systemic. There, tariffs against China and other countries, trade wars and financial sanctions fit into a picture of a long‑term U.S. attempt to cement dollar dominance and technological superiority through “managed chaos.” Chinese economists, relying on analyses from international organizations, note that by 2026 reciprocal “symmetric” tariffs exceeding 10 percent in trade between the U.S. and China have already become the new norm, not a temporary anomaly, prompting Beijing to accelerate diversification of export markets and development of domestic demand. At the same time Chinese media underline that in the new version of the U.S. National Security Strategy, Beijing no longer appears as the “most serious systemic threat” but is described as an “almost equal competitor,” and the slogan of “complete decoupling” has been replaced by the formula “reducing dependence in key areas.” In China this is read two ways: as recognition that a full “divorce” of the two largest economies is impossible, and as a signal that Washington is simply shifting from an openly confrontational course to a more sophisticated, managed competition.
Against this backdrop diplomatic scandals and conflicts involving the U.S. are perceived in Brazil as symptoms of the same illness – American confidence in the right to unilateral use of force and legal measures. The latest episode – the expulsion by U.S. authorities of a Brazilian police liaison officer from Florida – provoked an outcry in Brasília. In an interview with the Spanish edition of El País, Lula directly threatened reciprocity, saying that if American authorities abused their powers regarding the Brazilian officer, Brazil would respond in kind toward American personnel. As the paper notes, in recent weeks Lula has noticeably hardened his rhetoric toward Trump, accusing him of “bellicism and disregard for multilateralism” and stressing that “Trump has no right to wake up in the morning and threaten some country” — words he used in a recent conversation with El País journalists. In Brazilian discourse this is woven into a line from the tariff dispute of 2025 to the current diplomatic scandal, reinforcing the argument that the U.S. treats partners’ sovereignty selectively and views international law as a toolkit of options.
Brazil–U.S. relations are also complicated by internal Brazilian polarization. Right‑wing supporters of former president Jair Bolsonaro — the so‑called “Bolsonarism” — criticize Lula for “ideologizing” foreign policy and risking a cooling with Washington at a time when Brazil needs American investment and market access. The left, by contrast, sees Lula’s tougher tone as a long‑overdue correction: in their view Brazil should engage with the U.S. “as equals,” relying on its regional role and participation in BRICS. As a result any Washington move — from tariffs to the expulsion of an officer — becomes part of an internal struggle to define national identity: dependent “junior partner” or an autonomous pole in a multipolar world.
If from South America the U.S. looks like an overwhelmingly powerful but capricious partner, for Australia the key question sounds different: to what extent can and should it follow Washington on matters of war and peace. Against the backdrop of intensifying U.S. and allied conflict with Iran and the closure of the Strait of Hormuz, a lively debate about Canberra’s role unfolded in Australian political discourse. In March and April 2026 Australian media covered in detail the country’s involvement in the U.S.‑led coalition’s actions, including the incident with an American submarine that sank an Iranian frigate carrying Australian servicemembers. This posed for the public the painful question: how transparent are decisions about Australia’s participation in U.S.‑commanded operations to citizens, and what is the price of such alignment for national security.
In interviews and comments to ABC News and other Australian outlets, Defense Minister Richard Marles emphasized that additional Australian participation in operations in the Strait of Hormuz would depend on achieving a sustainable ceasefire. He publicly disagreed with former prime minister Tony Abbott, who demanded more decisive support for U.S. military actions against Iran. In practice this debate symbolizes a broader split: part of the political class continues to believe that Australia’s security is inseparable from showing unconditional loyalty to the U.S., while others insist on a more “sovereign” approach — joining only those operations approved by the international community and backed by a clear mandate.
Against this backdrop Australia’s strategic debate about the alliance with the United States has taken on a new scale. Specialized outlets such as Defense News highlight that Australia is simultaneously sharply increasing its defense budget and investing in modernization of its navy, air force and cyber capabilities, relying on technological and intelligence cooperation with Washington. But the question is increasingly raised: are these steps arriving too late and do they undermine Canberra’s long‑term initiative in its own regional policy. Commentators speak of a “dependency dilemma”: the more Australia invests in joint U.S. programs, the harder it becomes to pursue a line different from America’s in crises like the Iranian one.
Interestingly, in both China and Australia the American line toward Iran and the Middle East is seen as symptomatic of a broader doctrine: the use of the threat of disproportionate force and the disregard of other actors’ mediation efforts. In China official and semi‑official commentators, including authors writing for party and academic platforms, stress that Washington’s reliance on “deterrence through denial” — a strategy embedded in American defense planning — is perceived by Beijing as justification for expanding the U.S. military presence in the Indo‑Pacific. Chinese experts note that the same logic the U.S. applies to Iran and the Strait of Hormuz can easily be transferred to the Taiwan Strait and the South China Sea: the U.S. proclaims willingness to “deny the adversary victory,” even at the cost of escalating the risk of a major conflict.
Another layer of international reaction to the U.S. is criticism of its moral and political leadership from religious and humanitarian authorities, which is especially noticeable in the Latin American information space. The story of the confrontation between Washington and the Holy See, which began in January 2026 with Pope Leo XIV’s public opposition to American domestic and foreign policy — from actions in Venezuela and Iran to threats of annexing Greenland — elicited a strong response in predominantly Catholic South American countries. The Pope sharply denounced Trump’s April 7 statement threatening to “destroy Iranian civilization” to compel Tehran to open the Strait of Hormuz, calling it “truly unacceptable.” Brazilian press uses this conflict to argue that criticism of the U.S. comes not only from “anti‑American regimes” but from central figures of global Catholicism.
Against this backdrop Lula and other Latin American leaders readily situate their disagreements with Washington in a broader moral‑political context: defense of multilateralism, rejection of threats of genocide as diplomatic tools, respect for the sovereignty of weaker states. For Brazil’s domestic audience this allows a tough tone toward the U.S. to be presented not as a reckless provocation but as solidarity with the Pope and the developing world in opposing “impunity‑driven hegemonism.”
Finally, in China discussion of the U.S. is increasingly framed in terms of “systemic competition” and long‑term geopolitics. Chinese political and expert platforms analyze the upcoming visit of Donald Trump to Beijing and consider whether a new, conditional “fourth joint communique” between the U.S. and China might be possible to redefine the framework of relations after another round of escalation over Taiwan and trade wars. Chinese authors, including commentators writing for outlets aimed at the overseas Chinese diaspora, stress that in the new American strategy Beijing is no longer labeled an absolute enemy, but this does not mean a relaxation of confrontation: Washington is merely adapting to a situation of “near‑equal competition,” in which it must simultaneously contain, negotiate and compete. In this logic any concession by Washington — on tariffs, technological restrictions or rhetoric — is seen in China not as a goodwill gesture but as a forced acknowledgment of interdependence.
The result is a multidimensional, contradictory picture. In China the U.S. is primarily an economic‑financial and technological competitor which, while flirting with undermining its own dollar architecture, seeks to preserve advantages. In Brazil America appears as a powerful but unpredictable partner whose tariffs, expulsions and military threats force talk of “reciprocity” and sovereignty, while internal Brazilian disputes about the U.S. reflect societal division. In Australia Washington is both a security guarantor and the main ally, but also a source of strategic dependency that provokes debate over the limits of participation in its wars and the price of access to American technologies and nuclear submarines. What unites these perspectives is one belief: the era of unipolarity is over, and the U.S. ability to dictate terms without regard for partners and institutions faces increasingly firm, articulated and in its own way rational pushback on both sides of the Pacific and Atlantic.
