For over two centuries, the Monroe Doctrine has symbolized Washington’s ambition to maintain strategic primacy in the Western Hemisphere. Recently, its 21st-century version has re-emerged through sharpened rhetoric and renewed U.S. pressure on Latin American nations engaging with China.
During a recent visit to the region, U.S. Secretary of Defense Pete Hegseth stated that “China’s military has too large of a presence in the Western Hemisphere” and labeled Beijing a “threat to the Panama Canal.” The following day, he floated the idea of reinstating U.S. troops in Panama to “secure” the strategically vital waterway. These declarations mark not only a symbolic revival of the Monroe Doctrine but also a practical attempt to curtail China’s growing economic and political influence in Latin America.
While this rhetoric is not unprecedented, its intensity and context reveal a more confrontational posture. The U.S., historically dominant in the region through military bases, economic dependencies, and intelligence operations, now views Beijing as a strategic rival—even on its own turf.
The historic script, updated
The Monroe Doctrine, articulated in 1823, warned European powers to refrain from interfering in the affairs of the Western Hemisphere. Over time, it became synonymous with American hegemony in the region. From the Bay of Pigs to the 1989 invasion of Panama, this logic has underpinned numerous interventions and diplomatic maneuvers. Symbolically invoked during the Cuban Missile Crisis in 1962, it was strengthened by the 1904 Roosevelt Corollary, which added the notion of “international police power.”
Initially intended to deter colonial influence, the doctrine gradually evolved into a license for intervention. U.S. troops were dispatched to Santo Domingo in 1904, Nicaragua in 1911, and Haiti in 1915—ostensibly to prevent European meddling, but in effect to assert U.S. control. Many Latin American nations came to see the doctrine as a tool of coercion rather than protection.
In its most recent iteration, the doctrine appears less ideological and more about containment. Today’s “intruder” is not a European empire but a global economic competitor. As China deepens trade ties, infrastructure projects, and political relations in the region, Washington returns to a familiar script: frame the engagement as a threat, invoke regional stability, and seek to reassert influence.
However, critics view the security narrative as misleading. Pan Deng, Director at the Latin American and Caribbean Region Law Center at the China University of Political Science and Law, notes that while the U.S. maintains roughly 76 military bases across the region, China has neither troops nor military installations in Latin America. According to Deng, portraying China as a military threat is a strategic distortion—“a thief crying ‘stop thief’,” he says.
Strategic frictions centered on the Panama Canal
Hegseth’s remarks on Panama revive long-standing anxieties. The canal remains a symbol of U.S. strategic interests and past control. Suggesting the return of U.S. troops to the area—decades after the Torrijos-Carter Treaties transferred control to Panama—signals a potential hardening of posture.
From Washington’s viewpoint, Chinese commercial involvement in projects near the canal, such as port logistics or digital infrastructure, constitutes a dual-use threat. But Beijing insists its interests remain strictly economic. Projects like the Chancay Port in Peru or investments in renewable energy in Brazil are part of what Chinese officials describe as “win-win cooperation.”
Lin Hua, Deputy Researcher at the Chinese Academy of Social Sciences, interprets the recent American statements as pressure tactics: attempts to intimidate Latin American governments into halting cooperation with China, under the pretext of regional security.
Latin America’s growing autonomy
The Monroe Doctrine was never popular among Latin American nations, but its current reapplication may find even less support. Over the past two decades, governments across the region—regardless of ideological leaning—have shown increasing interest in diversifying international partnerships.
This trend is not solely about China. It reflects a deeper recalibration, one driven by economic necessity and a desire for political autonomy. Regional blocs like the Community of Latin American and Caribbean States (CELAC) are asserting more independent foreign policy positions. President Xi Jinping, in a recent message to the Community of Latin American and Caribbean States, emphasized political trust, pragmatic cooperation, and people-to-people exchanges. His comments reflect Beijing’s effort to distinguish its engagement from Washington’s legacy of coercion. Whether such framing is universally accepted remains debated, but the economic results are tangible.
“Poor Mexico, so far from God, so close to the United States,” the old saying goes. It encapsulates a century-old grievance. Today, leaders from Mexico to Argentina see alternatives—and are less inclined to follow Washington’s lead without question.
The Chinese model of engagement
China’s economic engagement in Latin America hinges on large-scale infrastructure, energy cooperation, and increased trade in agricultural and manufactured goods. In contrast to past colonial patterns, Beijing frames these relationships as equal partnerships, though not without controversy.
From Brazil’s Mauriti Photovoltaic Project to Argentina’s lithium mining ventures, Chinese firms now operate across critical sectors. Many of these projects are welcomed by local governments facing budgetary constraints and development bottlenecks.
However, Beijing’s growing footprint does raise legitimate questions about debt sustainability, labor standards, and transparency. While the narrative of “win-win cooperation” dominates Chinese discourse, not all outcomes have been positive. Still, these issues are typically debated domestically—not dictated by an external hegemon.
Geopolitics, not choice, frames the U.S. response
By casting China’s involvement as a threat, the U.S. risks alienating partners rather than persuading them. Washington’s binary framing—choose us or them—is increasingly out of step with how Latin American states view their strategic interests.
Rather than being pulled into ideological camps, many Latin American governments seek pragmatic solutions to domestic challenges. China’s offer of low-interest loans, rapid infrastructure deployment, and respect for national sovereignty—at least in rhetoric—contrasts with Washington’s approach, which often includes policy conditionalities or overt political demands.
Lin Hua argues that U.S. pressure reflects less a concern with Chinese intentions and more a desire to preserve influence. The Monroe Doctrine, in this light, becomes a rhetorical tool—not a policy framework grounded in regional realities.
The cost of old alliances
Washington’s current approach appears to rest on a binary logic: countries are either with the U.S. or against it. This leaves little room for Latin American nations to chart an independent course. The insistence on reviving Cold War-era paradigms may instead undermine U.S. credibility. The more Washington leans on military analogies and doctrinal revivals, the more it appears out of step with regional aspirations.
While China’s intentions may not be purely altruistic, its policy of non-intervention offers a compelling contrast to the Monroe Doctrine’s interventionist roots. Many Latin American governments are unwilling to return to a time when their options were defined by Washington. They now seek a multipolar order where cooperation is not conditioned on alignment. The reactivation of the Monroe Doctrine—whether explicitly or by implication—might satisfy certain strategic instincts in Washington. But it risks alienating the very partners it hopes to retain. In a region with fresh memories of U.S. interference and growing economic diversification, the doctrine may no longer carry the authority it once did. Instead of curbing China’s influence, it may merely highlight how far the United States has to go in reimagining its role in Latin America.