On December 2, 2025, the White House marked the 202nd anniversary of President James Monroe’s 1823 declaration by unveiling a new “Trump Corollary” to the Monroe Doctrine, a move that has reignited debate over America’s role in Latin America and the wider Western Hemisphere. The announcement, part of the broader “America 250” initiative commemorating the nation’s approaching semiquincentennial, was followed days later by the release of the Trump administration’s 2025 National Security Strategy—a document that leaves little doubt about the White House’s intention to reassert U.S. dominance in the region.
According to El País, the new strategy declares a return to the Monroe Doctrine’s core tenet: “America for the Americans,” reestablishing the United States as the preeminent power in the Western Hemisphere. The document, published on December 8, 2025, is clear in its ambitions. “This ‘Trump Corollary’ to the Monroe Doctrine is a common-sense and potent restoration of American power and priorities,” the strategy states, signaling a dramatic pivot in U.S. foreign policy after years of what the administration describes as neglect.
At its heart, the Trump Corollary asserts, “That the American people—not foreign nations nor globalist institutions—will always control their own destiny in our hemisphere.” However, as The Atlantic points out, this muscular declaration is also notably vague, offering little detail about the practical steps the United States intends to take to enforce this vision. The corollary invokes the non-colonization clause of Monroe’s original doctrine but stops short of outlining specific enforcement mechanisms.
The administration’s National Security Strategy, however, fills in some of those blanks with a series of concrete objectives. The Americas are now the top U.S. foreign policy priority, with border security described as “the primary element of national security.” The document also makes no secret of its intention to counter China’s growing influence in Latin America, particularly in infrastructure development and control of strategic assets.
To achieve these aims, the strategy calls for a two-pronged approach: expanding alliances with regional partners and increasing U.S. military presence. The plan is to “enlist and expand” alliances—either by strengthening existing ties or attracting new partners by “bolstering our own nation’s appeal as the Hemisphere’s economic and security partner of choice.” Ideologically aligned allies are promised cooperation and rewards, especially in advancing U.S. objectives such as controlling immigration, stopping drug flows, and bolstering regional stability. Yet, the document also acknowledges the need to work with governments that may not share all U.S. principles but have overlapping interests.
Perhaps the most striking element of the new strategy is its emphasis on military realignment. The U.S. Navy and Coast Guard are set for an expanded presence, particularly in the Caribbean, where deployments have been growing since August 2025. The strategy calls for “establishing or expanding access in strategically important locations” and mentions “targeted deployments,” including, “where necessary, the use of lethal force.” As The Atlantic reports, U.S. forces have already been massing in the region, and drones have killed more than 80 people in strikes on boats allegedly carrying narcotics—a sign that the administration’s rhetoric may soon translate into real operational intervention.
The situation in Venezuela looms large over these developments. President Nicolás Maduro remains firmly in power, and the Trump administration’s strategy leaves open the possibility of further action. “After years of neglect, the United States will reassert and enforce the Monroe Doctrine to restore American preeminence in the Western Hemisphere,” the strategy proclaims. With tensions high and U.S. forces nearby, the prospect of conflict seems all too real.
But the strategy is not limited to military might. It also embraces “commercial diplomacy,” seeking to identify and secure strategic resources—such as rare earths and critical minerals—reinforce supply chains, and strengthen local economies to favor U.S. commerce and investment. The Trump administration is explicit about its desire to push out foreign companies, particularly those from China, that have gained a foothold in regional infrastructure and strategic assets. “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 states.
The history of the Monroe Doctrine, as The Atlantic reminds readers, is one of repeated reinterpretation and political theater. The doctrine was originally a warning to European powers against colonization in the Americas, issued at a time when the United States was far from a global superpower. Over the years, however, successive administrations have attached new corollaries—most famously Theodore Roosevelt’s in 1904, which justified U.S. intervention in the Caribbean and Central America to prevent European meddling.
The Trump Corollary, critics argue, is both a reflection of domestic political imperatives and a response to real geopolitical shifts. The announcement, according to historian Jay Sexton in The Atlantic, “should first be read in relation to domestic political theater.” Invoking the Monroe Doctrine has long been a way for U.S. politicians to claim the nationalist high ground, often in election years. The Trump administration’s move is seen by some as an attempt to shore up support among key constituencies, such as Cuban Americans in Florida, while also trolling political opponents who have condemned the doctrine as a symbol of imperialism.
Yet, as Sexton notes, there are real risks. The doctrine’s history is littered with examples of unintended consequences and unpopular wars. President James K. Polk’s invocation of the Monroe Doctrine in the 1840s led to the Mexican-American War, which proved deeply divisive and set the stage for future conflict. Theodore Roosevelt’s corollary resulted in a series of U.S. interventions—sometimes called the “forever wars” of their time—that became increasingly unpopular at home.
Today, the stakes are just as high. The Trump administration’s strategy rewards political allies—Argentina and El Salvador get positive mentions—while targeting ideological foes like Venezuela and focusing on halting the flow of drugs and migrants. The administration touts achievements such as asserting privilege over the Panama Canal and restoring “American maritime dominance.” Yet, as The Atlantic cautions, the public’s enthusiasm for patriotic doctrines does not always translate into support for costly and protracted military adventures.
Whether the Trump Corollary marks a fleeting moment of political theater or the beginning of a more consequential and risky shift in U.S. policy will depend on the administration’s ability to maintain focus, absorb geopolitical blowback, and withstand domestic political pain. The coming months will reveal whether this new doctrine is merely another chapter in the long and winding story of the Monroe Doctrine—or something far more significant for the future of the Americas.
