JUST IN: PORTUGAL DUMPS F-35, PICKS CANADIAN-BUILT GRIPEN AS TRUMP’S PRESSURE BACKFIRES ACROSS NATO
Portugal has delivered a shockwave through NATO. In a decision with far-reaching political and strategic consequences, Lisbon has halted its planned purchase of the American-made F-35 and pivoted toward the Canadian-built Gripen E fighter. What once looked like a routine modernization of Portugal’s aging F-16 fleet has become a defining moment for alliance politics—triggered not by technology, but by trust. Officials in Lisbon assessed rising political pressure from Washington and concluded that dependence on U.S.-controlled defense ecosystems now carries unacceptable risk.

For years, the F-35, produced by Lockheed Martin, appeared to be the frontrunner to replace Portugal’s Cold War–era fighters. That trajectory changed after the return of Donald Trump to the White House and a sharp escalation in rhetoric toward Canada, including public threats tied to defense procurement and alliance cooperation. Portuguese defense planners viewed those signals as a precedent: if pressure could be applied to Ottawa, it could be applied to Lisbon. In modern air combat, political reliability matters as much as performance.
At the center of the reassessment was the reality that the F-35 is not just an aircraft, but a U.S.-controlled ecosystem—dependent on American supply chains, software updates, mission data files, and export approvals. In stable times, that interdependence works. In volatile times, it becomes exposure. According to reporting in the Portuguese press, the Ministry of Defense explicitly cited American political volatility as a material risk. The concern was not anti-American sentiment, but sovereignty: access to spare parts and software should never hinge on diplomatic alignment.

Portugal’s answer was the Gripen E, developed by Saab and assembled in Canada, with production centered in Montreal. The choice carries both practical and symbolic weight. A Canadian-built platform offers NATO interoperability without U.S. export control dominance, allowing Portugal to sustain, train, and upgrade its fleet through European and allied channels. Discussions involve 18 to 24 aircraft, with deliveries aligned to F-16 retirements between 2029 and 2032 and program costs estimated between €2.5 and €3 billion.
Cost reinforced the decision. The Gripen’s operating costs—often cited at a fraction of the F-35’s—translate into billions in long-term savings that can be redirected toward training, munitions, and broader defense modernization. Just as important, Portuguese technicians can maintain the aircraft domestically, pilots train within national command structures, and software updates are not routed through U.S.-managed approval pipelines. In an era where software defines combat capability, control over updates equals strategic autonomy.
The precedent is what truly matters. Portugal is not a marginal player—it is a founding member of NATO. When such a country walks away from the F-35 and explicitly factors political coercion directed at another ally into its decision, every defense ministry in Europe takes note. Spain, Italy, Germany, and others now have a live case study showing that alliance compatibility does not require total dependence on American platforms. For Canada, the decision validates its growing role as a defense-industrial hub. For Washington, it delivers an uncomfortable lesson: pressure meant to enforce compliance can just as easily accelerate diversification. Portugal didn’t just cancel a jet order—it reshaped the conversation about power, trust, and sovereignty inside NATO.