CANADA REJECTS F-35s AFTER U.S. AIRSPACE WARNING — SWEDEN’S GRIPEN EMERGES AS SHOCK WINNER
Canada’s fighter jet replacement program has erupted into a geopolitical flashpoint after Ottawa signaled it may scale back its planned purchase of U.S.-made F-35s, triggering an unusually blunt warning from Washington. What was once framed as a routine defense procurement review has now become a debate about sovereignty, leverage, and the true cost of alliance politics. At the center of the storm is a growing Canadian willingness to pivot toward Sweden’s Saab Gripen, a move that could reshape North American defense dynamics.

The controversy intensified in early 2026 when the U.S. ambassador to Canada reportedly warned that failing to proceed with the full purchase of 88 F-35 jets could result in increased American fighter activity inside Canadian airspace. While framed as coordination under NORAD, the message was widely interpreted as pressure. The implication was clear: access to Canadian skies was being linked to compliance with a specific U.S. defense contract, transforming a procurement decision into a test of political alignment.
Cost overruns played a decisive role in Ottawa’s reassessment. Canada originally agreed in 2022 to buy 88 F-35s for roughly 19 billion Canadian dollars, but a government audit later revealed projected costs had ballooned to 27.7 billion—a 46 percent increase. Rather than cancel outright, Canada chose to keep the first 16 jets on order while placing the remaining 72 under review, opening the door to alternatives that had previously been sidelined.
That opening was quickly seized by Sweden’s Saab. The company proposed supplying 72 Gripen E fighter jets along with advanced surveillance aircraft, with final assembly, maintenance, and long-term support based in Canada. Saab projected more than 12,000 domestic jobs tied to real production facilities, a sharp contrast to the F-35 program’s globally dispersed supply chain. Public opinion followed the economics, with polls showing strong Canadian support for the Swedish option based on cost control, job creation, and industrial sovereignty.
Washington responded by questioning the Gripen’s suitability, despite its NATO compatibility and proven performance in harsh climates. Analysts noted that concerns over interoperability rested less on technical limits and more on political control, since integration ultimately depends on U.S. permission. Critics argued this revealed a deeper issue: defense dependence enforced not through competition, but through pressure. In that light, the Gripen became more than an aircraft—it became a symbol of strategic autonomy.
Most observers now expect a compromise outcome, with Canada maintaining a small F-35 fleet for interoperability while shifting the bulk of its future purchases to Saab. Regardless of the final decision, the damage is already done. The episode has sent a clear signal to middle powers worldwide: alliance with Washington increasingly comes with conditions. Canada’s response—calm, methodical, and sovereignty-focused—may prove influential as other nations quietly reassess how much dependence they are willing to accept.