While Donald Trump rambles on regarding his aspirations to seize Greenland, the Panama Canal, Gaza and even Canada, one territory that certainly flies under the radar is our tiny island home of Bermuda. This oversight is not borne out of America’s sympathy, but rather because of Washington’s recognition of Bermuda as an already subservient, integrated satellite whose tax laws conveniently house its biggest corporations.

Past the colonial fiction of the Union Jack under which we are still branded, the reality remains that a hostile umbilical cord dangerously subverts Bermuda to American dominance. Now, as the Iran war waged on and oil prices surged past $100 a barrel, Bermuda finally began to feel the punishing impacts of its absolute lack of economic diversification. Ultimately, our geopolitical submission to America leads us to passively absorb a financial shock that could otherwise be mitigated by looking south to our Caribbean neighbours.

The Americanisation of Bermuda has become a normalisation rather than a political debate; it is simply accepted as a part of everyday life. Even our currency is pegged 1:1 to the US dollar, giving us virtually no independent monetary shield against global inflation.

For an island whose massive international insurance sector is inextricably designed to protect and hedge American corporate capital, we find ourselves systematically entrenched in this standard of American dominance over our economy and supply chains. When the United States engages in imperialistic warfare, our passive complicity leads to our passive withering.

Recent developments in the Middle East — such as closures in the Strait of Hormuz — mean that American oil refineries face increasingly spiking raw material costs. When Bermuda imports 100 per cent of its fuel, the vast majority of which is sourced from the USA, we are faced with a crushing blow not only to our monthly electric bills but also our ability to reliably put food on the table.

As we relentlessly purchase petroleum products off the American East Coast, we face skyrocketing Fuel Adjustment Rates on our monthly electric costs, which leave us trapped in a reactive economic loop: we are essentially paying a premium for American processing while standing on the front lines of a macroeconomic conflict happening thousands of miles away.

Yet, this crippling and encompassing dependence is entirely artificial. While we blindly look to the US to dictate our supply chains, an historic energy revolution is unfolding right in our regional backyard. The Caribbean is no longer a network of tourism-dependent islands; it is rapidly transforming into an economic and energy powerhouse.

To our south, Guyana has become one of the world's fastest-growing economies, with offshore crude production surging past 900,000 barrels per day. Simultaneously, Trinidad & Tobago is moving to revive its massive 140,000-barrel-per-day Pointe-à-Pierre refinery, while engaging with Guyana to utilise its oil as refinable fuel.

The convergence of Guyanese extraction and Trinidadian refining capacity presents a compelling alternative to Bermuda's status quo. Rather than idly absorbing the inflated costs of the US supply chain as it suffers from imperial overreach, Bermuda now possesses the opportunity to leverage regional alliances and source fuel directly from within the Caribbean basin. Looking forward, transitioning our energy supply lines towards a Guyana-Trinidad axis would not only buffer Bermuda against Middle Eastern shipping blockades, it would also keep capital within our own geographic region. Furthermore, forging these trade agreements would add profound, practical and political weight to our national discussions regarding a closer relationship with Caricom.

There are flickering rumours of a potential peace deal in the Middle East, but regardless of its realisation or outcome, one thing remains abundantly clear: in this unpredictable age, it is far too precarious and naive to submit entirely to American dominance.

True sovereignty is not defined by the flag we fly or the political statements we make; it is defined by where we buy our food and how we power our homes. As long as Bermuda remains completely dependent on the US war machine for its daily survival, our cost of living will remain hostage to foreign conflicts and American market whims.

To safeguard our future, we must break our status quo conformity, look past the horizon of the East Coast, and recognise that our long-term resilience lies in building sustainable economic bridges with our cordial Caribbean neighbours. Otherwise, we risk sacrificing not just our economic stability but our very national identity: Bermuda is not an American state, but a Bermudian people.

• Christopher Madeiros is a student at Saltus Grammar School