The year of the ‘Donroe Doctrine’
As
President Donald Trump’s second term heads toward its second year, his
doctrine for the Western Hemisphere, once seen as impractical, is taking
real shape.
(Illustration
by Zachary Balcoff/The Washington Post; Matt McClain, Sarah L.
Voisin/The Washington Post; Ariana Cubillos/AP; iStock)
In the early days of 2025, the New York Post splashed President Donald Trump, smirking before an annotated classroom map of the Western Hemisphere, across a front page
spanned by the headline: “The Donroe Doctrine.” On the map, Trump had
laid claim to Canada as the “51st state,” recast Greenland as “our
land,” rebranded the Gulf of Mexico as the “Gulf of America” and
reasserted U.S. control over the Panama Canal.
The tabloid was gesturing
to the precedent established in 1823 by President James Monroe, who
proclaimed the young American republic’s opposition to future European
interference and colonization in its hemisphere — what is known as the
Monroe Doctrine.
Before his return to office, Trump’s ambitions for the region seemed perplexing, even quixotic. His bullying of Canada triggered a backlash that doomed conservatives north of the border
in parliamentary elections they had expected to win. His expansionist
desire for Greenland put relations with Denmark, which maintains
sovereignty over the Arctic territory, in a tricky spot for no obvious
benefit, and prefigured a year of tensions with the European Union.
But to the south, the Donroe Doctrine has come into clearer focus. In the Caribbean, the biggest U.S. military deployment
in decades casts a shadow across Venezuela and the autocratic regime of
President Nicolás Maduro. U.S. forces have targeted alleged drug
cartels operating in the region amid the growing suspicion among
analysts that Trump’s White House is bent on a regime-changing mission.
Elsewhere, Trump has exerted an overweening influence,
putting his thumb on the scales of domestic politics across Latin
America by backing particular candidates in elections from Honduras to
Chile, while finding controversial reasons to sanction left-wing governments. He doled out
a $20 billion bailout for Argentina that preceded victories in midterm
elections for the party and allies of President Javier Milei, a
libertarian firebrand and Trump ally. Parallel to the first year of
Trump’s second term, a wave of right-wing politicians in Trump’s mold have come to the fore in the region.
In
its National Security Strategy released a few weeks ago, the White
House invoked the Monroe Doctrine by name, as well as the Roosevelt
Corollary — the latter an addition
to the former put forward in 1904 by President Theodore Roosevelt, who
said the United States would not only ward against European meddling in
the hemisphere but act as a kind of “international police power” to
intervene in countries beset by incompetent governance, instability or
debt. The corollary justified U.S. military interventions and
occupations in the early 20th century in countries such as Haiti, Cuba and Nicaragua.
This
year, the White House spelled out what it calls the “Trump Corollary,”
reasserting Washington’s primacy in the neighborhood and warning against
the designs of outside powers, namely China. “We will deny
non-Hemispheric competitors the ability to position forces or other
threatening capabilities, or to own or control strategically vital
assets, in our Hemisphere,” the document said.
Christopher
Sabatini, a senior fellow for Latin America at Chatham House, a leading
British think tank, described the Trump corollary as “a baldly partisan
effort to remake the region” in the guise of Trumpism, offering
inducements to leaders who are not just “sympathetic to the U.S., but
Trump personally.”
It
also marks a departure in spirit and purpose from previous Republican
and Democratic administrations. “This isn’t about supporting democracy,
free markets, or tying together the region in a network of free trade
agreements,” Sabatini told me. “It’s about ownership — very much similar
ways to [Russian President Vladimir] Putin views his near abroad.”
It
may help the Trump administration that Latin America’s evolving
politics, shaped by widespread concerns over gang violence and cartel
control, seem more in line with a Trump agenda. “Today’s Latin America
is a region where the tone and substance of some political events would
not seem out of place in Texas or Nebraska; where mainstream political
leaders speak glowingly of fiscal discipline and police crackdowns; and
where demands for social justice seem to have been superseded, at least
for now, by invective against narcoterrorists and socialist dictators,”
Brian Winter, editor in chief of Americas Quarterly, wrote in a recent essay for Foreign Affairs.
Trump’s
Latin America policy is a “logical extension of everything MAGA,”
Sabatini said, pointing to the ways in which the White House has melded
domestic grandstanding over immigration and narco-trafficking with its
turn back to the hemisphere, away from the Biden administration’s
attempts to focus U.S. strategy on the challenge of China. News reports,
including a recent piece in the New York Times,
cite evidence that influential Trump adviser Stephen Miller sees a
conflict over Venezuela as a pretext to summon an 18th-century act that
could allow for mass deportations of Venezuelans in the United States.
“This
is much more sellable to the America First base than the stuff in the
Middle East,” Trump ally and former adviser Stephen K. Bannon recently told the Wall Street Journal,
referring to the contours of the Donroe Doctrine. “Monroe 2.0 was not
in the lexicon. And now people have gone back and they’re saying, ‘Yeah,
definitely, I agree with that. Love that.’”
Trump
can play the pragmatic peacemaker and transactional dealmaker
elsewhere, but “wants to tell the story that the real threats to the
United States come from an ‘invasion’ of immigrants and drugs,” Stephen
Wertheim, senior fellow at the Carnegie Endowment for International
Peace, told me.
“He
has imported some of pathologies of the war on terror to the United
States’ own hemisphere,” Wertheim said. “Trump’s brutal deportation
policies, blatant election meddling, lawless boat strikes and creeping
regime-change moves against Venezuela amount to a new, highly coercive
and militarized approach to the Americas.”
One
of the ironies of the Donroe Doctrine is that Latin America sees the
least amount of terrorism in the world, suggested Jorge Heine, a veteran
Chilean diplomat. But the White House is mustering a security argument
to reassert a right to dominance in a region that has struggled to
recover the economic dynamism of more than a decade ago.
“It’s
very legitimate for the U.S. to say we would like to keep our primacy,”
Heine told me. “But the way to do that is by competing,” by helping
“build better ports, dams and so on” and taking a more proactive stake
in the development of Latin America. China, the biggest trading partner
of most countries in South America, has done that and even many
governments aligned with Trump will not be able to shift away from
Chinese influence.
“The
notion that you can hark back to 1823 is totally unrealistic. This is
not something you can unspool from one day to the next,” said Heine, who
is the author of the new book “The Non-Aligned World: Striking Out in
an Era of Great Power Competition.” “The horse has left the barn. You
can’t get China out of Latin America.”
Instead,
Trump’s more crude approach risks alienating many in the region in the
long term. “What this ‘strategy’ does make clear is that the only war
that the Trump administration wants to fight is a culture war,” wrote Kori Schake,
a former official in the George W. Bush administration. “And it sees
the United States’ adversaries as partners in that war, but it does not
see how much U.S. power relies on the voluntary assistance of other
countries.”