Following President Donald Trump’s inauguration last month, several news outlets have reported on his foreign policy discussions, some of which include territorial expansion. Critically examining Trump’s intentions shows how they carefully weave into the scars of American hegemony the country still bears today.
President Trump has incurred diplomatic tensions with Canadian Prime Minister Justin Trudeau after Trump expressed interest in establishing Canada as the 51st state. He has drawn pointed remarks from the Danish Prime Minister Mette Frederiksen after advocating for the purchase of Greenland from the Kingdom of Denmark. Recently, he has met with Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu to discuss potential ownership of the Gaza Strip and the resettlement of Palestinians following the Israel-Hamas ceasefire deal.
Trump’s determination to expand the United States’ jurisdiction — seemingly by any means necessary — is disturbingly similar to the notions of Manifest Destiny, which left an indelible, tender mark on the epoch of American expansionism. In a recent speech at the National Prayer Breakfast, Trump promised that “God has a special plan and a glorious mission for America. And that plan is going to happen. It’s going to happen.” Trump’s desire to govern what John L. O’Sullivan — a diplomat who coined the original “Manifest Destiny” term — called the “boundless continent” with religious principles is not new, but the depiction of America as a divine land that demands expansion is uncommon by today’s standards. For example, Brumidi’s mural, the “Study for the Apotheosis of Washington,” sits in the rotunda of the United States Capitol building and details the same justification for expansion that Trump employs today, despite having been commissioned nearly 200 years ago. The Smithsonian American Art Museum offers an insightful interpretation of the mural:
“George Washington [sits] in the center of the dome, having ascended to the heavens, looking down upon the visitor […]. Brumidi presents George Washington as Zeus, chief among the Greek gods, flanked by thirteen female figures representing the original thirteen colonies. […] Allegories pairing Greek gods and goddesses [demonstrate] American prowess and ingenuity.”
Trump’s expressions of territorial expansion resonate with historical patterns of American imperialism, mirroring earlier ambitions to dominate North America and beyond. In the United States alone, the annexation of Texas and the Mexican-American War serve as a relative case study for Trump’s approach to territorial acquisition. Much like Trump’s desire to subsume Canada and Greenland, this conflict was brought on by the belief that neighboring territories were inherently part of the American project. The Treaty of Guadalupe Hidalgo, which resulted in Mexico ceding 55% of its territory (e.g., present-day California, Arizona, New Mexico and much southwestern territory), was viewed as a doctrinal fulfillment of the American providence despite the losses it demanded. Trump’s coercive tariffs on Canadian goods could be perceived as a similar tactic; Trump seems to believe the U.S. is “owed” more land, and it seems his administration is willing to cede economic prosperity to acquire it, regardless of the harm his policies might incur on the American people.
Unfortunately, there are abundant historical cases of American imperialism that mirror Trump’s ambitions. The annexation of Puerto Rico, Guam and the Philippines following the Spanish-American War of 1898 is a prime example. This war was distinctively marked by the notion of benevolent paternalism, which entailed that America was not just entitled to acquire foreign territories but also to “purify” them from incivility. Although President Trump’s comments about the acquisition of territories like Greenland and Canada are simply offers to purchase territories rather than annex them by force, his justifications for expansion seem strikingly similar to those of past American expansionists, who many people today, including myself, consider to be critically misguided.
Even beyond American expansionism, Trump also appears to revive the “divine mission” and nationalistic identity of the United States as a domineering global power. In doing so, he has effectively marked the path backward for the United States as a respectable multilateral superpower. Though his proposals of acquiring territories by economic means seem less aggressive than historical case studies like the Mexican-American War, the subliminal sense of ownership that he and his administration share is alarmingly familiar.
Overall, I believe that Trump’s expansive ambitions signal the need for a diligent and considerate reexamination of American foreign policy. Specifically, it is my belief that the American people ought to distance themselves from the mural of the United States as an avaricious and greedy state. Rather than a paternal body that “purifies” or “deserves” other states, we ought to view the U.S. simply as another body in a web of mutual benefit. If we lodge ourselves into the center of that web, it may very well collapse under the burdens of our territorial appetite.
