At one minute past midnight Eastern time on Friday, July 24, new American import taxes came into force across 60 economies — from the European Union to Australia, from India to Russia. The trigger, at least on paper, was not trade imbalances or national security but something older and harder to argue against: the use of forced labour in global supply chains. By framing the tariffs around modern slavery rather than economic competition, the Trump administration chose a legal foundation that its critics admit will be far more difficult to challenge in court. The rates vary significantly by trading partner.

Countries such as Argentina, India, Pakistan and the United Kingdom, which have adopted or formally committed to restrictions on forced-labour imports, will face a baseline rate of 10%. The European Union, Japan, South Korea, Taiwan and Switzerland are subject to either 10% or 12.5%, depending on the product category. A third group — comprising China, most of the Middle East, much of Latin America, Australia, New Zealand and Russia — will pay the higher 12.

5% rate across the board. Certain strategically sensitive goods, including steel, aluminium, civilian aircraft and rare earth minerals, are exempt entirely. The legal architecture behind the tariffs matters as much as the rates themselves. The United States Trade Representative grounded the measures in Section 301 of the Trade Act of 1974, a statute with decades of court precedent behind it.

That choice was deliberate. In February, the US Supreme Court struck down the broader "Liberation Day" tariffs that President Trump had announced on 2 April 2025, ruling that the International Emergency Economic Powers Act of 1977 does not grant a president unilateral authority to impose tariffs.