At the White House on Monday, President Donald Trump spoke fondly of America’s “unbreakable friendship” with Australia. “We’ve been allies for a long time — and I’d say there’s never been anybody better,” he told Prime Minister Anthony Albanese during their first official meeting. “We fought wars together and never had any doubts.”
But back home, doubts are exactly what many Australians are starting to have.
For decades, the U.S. has been seen as Australia’s ultimate friend — a powerful protector and trusted partner. Yet under Trump’s renewed leadership, the relationship feels shakier than ever.
Albanese arrived in Washington eager to “strengthen and consolidate” ties. After all, Australia has stood “shoulder-to-shoulder” with the U.S. in every major conflict for more than a century. But analysts say the bond that once felt ironclad is now under quiet review.
“The Trump administration is forcing Australia to rethink its old assumptions about how reliable America really is,” says Sam Roggeveen of the Lowy Institute.
It’s not hard to see why. Trump’s sweeping tariffs — 10% on most Australian imports, and 50% on steel and aluminium — blindsided Canberra in August. “This is not the act of a friend,” Albanese fired back at the time.
Then came the bombshell review of Aukus, the multibillion-dollar defence pact that would give Australia nuclear-powered submarines to help counter China’s growing military might. Though the Albanese government publicly insisted the deal was safe, Washington’s isolationist tone — and its own submarine shortages — left Canberra nervous.
Even the simple act of scheduling a meeting with Trump became a diplomatic saga. Albanese had been trying for months to secure a face-to-face, while a previous “chance encounter” between Defence Minister Richard Marles and U.S. Defence Secretary Pete Hegseth ended in confusion after the Pentagon initially denied it happened.
Still, Monday’s meeting ended on a high note. Albanese walked away with renewed U.S. commitment to Aukus and a new investment deal to boost Australia’s critical minerals industry — part of a wider effort to reduce China’s dominance in that sector.
Trump, meanwhile, was uncharacteristically gracious, praising the partnership — although not without a jab at Australia’s ambassador and former prime minister Kevin Rudd, telling him bluntly, “I don’t like you either.”
The tariffs remain a sore point, but some industries, like beef, are thriving amid global trade disruptions. And while Aukus faced a brief scare, the review’s conclusion has reassured Canberra — for now.
Yet underneath the diplomatic smiles, skepticism lingers. Polls show Trump remains unpopular in Australia, and fewer Australians trust the U.S. as a dependable ally. For the first time, political distance from Washington isn’t seen as a liability — it’s a talking point.
“Half the country still thinks we need America more than ever,” says Jared Mondschein from the United States Studies Centre. “But the other half is quietly wondering what comes after America.”
Part of that hesitation comes from China. Just days before Albanese’s visit, a near-miss between Chinese and Australian fighter jets reminded everyone how tense the region has become. Beijing’s growing military presence has made Canberra nervous — but also aware that its security choices are narrowing.
“There’s a view that Australia can’t defend itself alone,” Roggeveen says. “So most think the only option is to cling even tighter to the U.S.”
For many in Asia, that’s the same calculation — a gamble on Trump’s unpredictability over Xi Jinping’s certainty.
For now, the U.S.–Australia alliance survives — bruised, complicated, but still standing. The smiles in Washington this week may have masked the strain, but one truth is clear: the relationship that once ran on trust now runs on calculation.
