Canada’s plan to anchor its future air power in the American-made F-35 Lightning II is facing renewed turbulence as political tensions with Washington threaten to reshape one of the country’s largest-ever military procurements. What began as a long-delayed effort to modernize the aging fleet of CF-18 Hornets has evolved into a broader debate about sovereignty, industrial autonomy, and the long-term reliability of the United States as Canada’s primary defense partner.
The government has already committed to an initial batch of aircraft under its total order of 88 jets for the Royal Canadian Air Force (RCAF). Yet rapidly growing political friction—fueled by trade disputes, tariff threats, and rhetoric from the administration of President Donald Trump—has opened space for renewed scrutiny of the deal. Into that space has stepped Sweden’s Saab JAS 39 Gripen E, a lighter and less technologically ambitious aircraft that now carries new geopolitical weight.
At the heart of the debate is the question of strategic dependence. The F-35 program was designed not merely as a fighter acquisition, but as a multinational ecosystem. Participating nations share production responsibilities, logistics networks, and software frameworks. The result is a deeply integrated alliance structure—but one that also concentrates control.
One of the most controversial aspects of the F-35 is its reliance on centralized logistics and software systems. The aircraft depends on cloud-based sustainment networks such as ALIS, now replaced by ODIN, which are hosted on U.S. servers. Critics argue that in a severe political dispute, Washington could theoretically restrict access to mission data or sustainment updates. While such a scenario would be unprecedented between NATO allies, recent trade tensions have prompted some Canadian policymakers to consider worst-case contingencies.
By contrast, Saab has emphasized that the Gripen E offers full sovereign control over mission data and source codes. The Swedish company has proposed establishing a Canadian Production Centre that would assemble aircraft domestically and grant Ottawa greater authority over upgrades and software modifications. For a country that once produced the legendary Avro CF-105 Arrow before its abrupt cancellation in 1959, the symbolism of rebuilding a national fighter production line carries emotional and strategic resonance.
The geopolitical calculus shifted further in early 2025 when the Trump administration launched a sweeping trade war that included tariffs on Canadian imports. Aerospace, one of Canada’s most valuable export sectors, became entangled in the dispute. Trump’s subsequent threats to “decertify” Canadian-made aircraft in retaliation for regulatory disagreements rattled policymakers in Ottawa.
Canada’s aerospace industry is the world’s fifth largest, anchored by firms such as Bombardier and hundreds of high-tech suppliers in Ontario and Quebec. Under the F-35 framework, Canadian companies secured contracts to manufacture components for the global fleet. However, final assembly of the aircraft occurs in the United States, limiting domestic industrial gains.
Saab’s counterproposal includes constructing Gripen jets in Canada, potentially generating over 12,000 domestic jobs and reestablishing sovereign manufacturing capacity. Regional sustainment hubs in Ontario and Quebec would provide long-term economic dividends, supporters argue.
For advocates of autonomy, the choice is no longer solely about performance metrics—it is about insulation from American domestic politics. Relying entirely on the U.S. defense industrial base, they argue, risks placing Canada’s air force at the mercy of shifting administrations.
Technologically, the F-35A remains in a class of its own. As a fifth-generation stealth aircraft, it combines low observable design, advanced sensor fusion, and network-centric warfare capabilities unmatched by most 4.5-generation fighters. In Canada’s official evaluation process, the F-35 reportedly scored 95 percent in operational capability compared with roughly 33 percent for the Gripen E.
The F-35’s stealth characteristics allow it to penetrate contested airspace and strike heavily defended targets. Its sensor suite integrates radar, infrared search and track, electronic warfare systems, and data links into a single fused picture for the pilot. In high-end combat scenarios against peer adversaries, this information advantage could prove decisive.
Yet critics highlight the aircraft’s high operating costs and infrastructure demands. The F-35 requires secure, climate-controlled hangars to preserve its stealth coatings. Maintenance often involves specialized equipment and larger crews. Historically, availability rates for the F-35A have fluctuated between 35 and 55 percent, though improvements are ongoing.
The Gripen E, by contrast, was designed around Sweden’s doctrine of dispersed operations. It can take off from short stretches of highway, frozen lakes, or austere runways as short as 800 meters. Refueling and rearming can be accomplished in roughly 15 minutes by a small team. Availability rates typically range between 70 and 80 percent.
For a nation tasked with defending vast Arctic territories, the ability to deploy aircraft from remote Forward Operating Locations carries significant appeal. The Gripen’s ruggedization and simplified maintenance model—often described as an “IKEA manual” approach—reduce logistical burdens in extreme climates.
Arctic Operations and Infrastructure
Canada’s northern geography presents unique operational challenges. Long distances between bases, extreme cold, and limited infrastructure complicate rapid response. The Gripen’s ability to operate in sub-zero temperatures and from improvised runways aligns closely with Sweden’s own Arctic-like conditions.
In contrast, the F-35A typically requires longer, well-prepared runways—often cited at 8,000 feet—for optimal operations. While the aircraft can operate from shorter strips under certain conditions, its sustainment ecosystem favors centralized bases.
The tradeoff becomes one of survivability versus stealth. The F-35’s low observability could allow it to detect and neutralize threats before being targeted. The Gripen, lacking stealth, compensates with advanced electronic warfare systems such as the Arexis suite, which focuses on jamming and deceiving enemy radars.
The Missile Equation: Meteor Versus AMRAAM
A particularly sharp point of comparison lies in long-range air-to-air missiles. The Gripen E is fully integrated with the European-made Meteor missile, which uses a solid-fueled ramjet engine. Unlike traditional “boost and glide” missiles, Meteor can throttle its engine during flight, preserving energy for the terminal phase. Its “No Escape Zone” is often described as significantly larger than that of conventional missiles.
The F-35, meanwhile, currently relies on the AIM-120 AMRAAM. While the latest AIM-120D variant offers improved range—reportedly exceeding 160 kilometers—its energy profile diminishes during the glide phase. As of early 2026, the Meteor is not yet operational on the F-35 platform, with full integration expected later in the decade under the Block 4 upgrade.
For Canada, this means the Gripen could field Meteor immediately, whereas the F-35 fleet would depend on AMRAAM during its initial years of service.
Infrastructure Costs and Sustainment
When the F-35 was conceived, its architects envisioned economies of scale. A single aircraft type across multiple services would simplify logistics. However, its classified systems and stealth maintenance requirements have driven up infrastructure costs.
The Gripen’s modular design allows rapid engine swaps and field-level maintenance without specialized hangars. A smaller ground crew can sustain operations, reducing personnel requirements in remote deployments.
Supporters argue that this flexibility enhances resilience. Dispersed Gripen squadrons operating from highways are harder to target than centralized stealth fleets dependent on large bases.
Beyond immediate procurement decisions lies a longer-term strategic vision. Saab has proposed that Canada not only build Gripens domestically but also align with the Global Combat Air Programme (GCAP), a sixth-generation fighter initiative led by the United Kingdom, Japan, and Italy.
Joining GCAP as a Tier 1 partner would grant Canadian firms early access to next-generation technologies, including advanced sensors, propulsion systems, and artificial intelligence-driven mission systems. Advocates argue this would keep intellectual property within Canada and prevent the “brain drain” that followed the Arrow’s cancellation.
Partnership with the UK and Japan could also diversify Canada’s defense relationships, hedging against American isolationism while preserving NATO alignment.
Canada’s original 2022 F-35 acquisition plan was valued at 19 billion Canadian dollars. Subsequent cost increases and sustainment projections have added billions more. Reports suggest the program has exceeded initial estimates by as much as $8 billion.
Ottawa has reportedly continued paying for long-lead components for additional aircraft to maintain its place in the production queue, even as a broader review unfolds. Canceling or reducing the order could entail financial penalties and diplomatic repercussions.
However, Canada’s aerospace base is sufficiently diversified to absorb shifts. Civil aviation, unmanned systems, and European defense contracts offer alternative growth pathways.
The debate over fighters has revived memories of the Arrow, once hailed as the most advanced interceptor in the world. Its abrupt termination in 1959 remains a deeply emotional chapter in Canadian history, symbolizing lost industrial ambition.
Choosing the Gripen—and potentially joining GCAP—would signal a pivot from integration to autonomy. It would not mean abandoning the United States as a defense partner, but it would represent a recalibration.
The F-35 remains technologically superior, particularly in stealth and sensor fusion. In direct combat scenarios against peer adversaries, it offers unmatched situational awareness and survivability. For many defense analysts, that capability outweighs concerns about political risk.
Yet politics can reshape procurement realities. The Trump administration’s tariff policies and rhetoric have introduced uncertainty into what was once considered an unassailable alliance.
Canada now stands at a crossroads between two strategic philosophies. One path reinforces deep integration with the United States through the F-35 program, accepting dependence in exchange for cutting-edge capability. The other emphasizes sovereignty, industrial revival, and diversified partnerships through the Gripen and potential GCAP membership.
Both aircraft can defend Canadian airspace. The F-35 does so with stealth dominance and networked warfare. The Gripen does so with flexibility, electronic warfare, and industrial autonomy.
Ultimately, the decision will reflect more than performance metrics. It will reveal how Canada defines its sovereignty in an era of shifting alliances and unpredictable geopolitics.
