'Donroe Doctrine' shows again spheres of influence

The comparison between the Monroe Doctrine and what some observers have loosely labeled the "Donroe Doctrine" is rooted in United States President Donald Trump's rhetoric and policies toward Latin America.

The neologism "Donroe" is employed by critics to imply a revival — or perhaps a distortion — of US president James Monroe's 1823 doctrine, which proclaimed the Western Hemisphere closed to further European colonization.

Although rhetorically appealing, the analogy conceals more than it clarifies. The two doctrines arose in dramatically different historical settings and were shaped by fundamentally different assumptions about power, legitimacy and the structure of international order.

The original Monroe Doctrine was, above all, a statement against colonization. At the time, much of Latin America was emerging from Spanish and Portuguese imperial domination, and the US — still a fledgling republic — aimed to deter European powers from reestablishing control in the region.

Despite later reinterpretations, the Monroe Doctrine was not initially conceived as a blueprint for US military intervention or hemispheric dominance. Indeed, in 1823 the United States lacked both the naval strength and the military reach to enforce such a policy on its own.

Its credibility depended largely on the tacit backing of Great Britain, then the preeminent naval power, which had its own reasons for keeping competing European empires out of Latin America.

Only later — particularly during the presidency of Theodore Roosevelt in the early 20th century — did the Monroe Doctrine assume an overtly interventionist dimension.

The "Roosevelt Corollary" claimed the right of the United States to intervene unilaterally in Latin American nations in cases of "chronic wrongdoing". This represented a decisive transformation from anti-colonial principle to what came to be known as "gunboat diplomacy".

Roosevelt himself had served in the Spanish-American War of 1898, a conflict that showcased America's rising naval capabilities. While the war contributed to Cuba's liberation from Spanish rule, it also led to US control over overseas territories such as the Philippines, signaling the country's emergence as an imperial power.

Over the course of the 20th century, US interventions in Latin America grew both more frequent and more explicit. In 1954, the Eisenhower administration backed a covert effort to depose Guatemala's democratically elected president, Jacobo Arbenz.

The episode is widely cited as an early example of Cold War-era interventions justified in the name of "anti-communism".

Likewise, in 1983 the United States invaded the Caribbean island of Grenada amid internal upheaval following the assassination of socialist leader Maurice Bishop. Then US president Ronald Reagan defended the invasion — Operation Urgent Fury — by invoking regional security concerns and the protection of American medical students on the island.

It was the first major US combat action since the Vietnam War and underscored Washington's continuing readiness to deploy force within what it viewed as its sphere of influence.

The 1989 US invasion of Panama further reinforced this pattern. After being indicted in US courts on charges of racketeering and drug trafficking, Panamanian General Manuel Noriega was ousted during a US military intervention and transported to the United States to stand trial.

What links these episodes is not the Monroe Doctrine per se, but the enduring concept of spheres of influence.

The Western Hemisphere gradually came to be regarded as America's strategic backyard, even as European powers sustained their own imperial and post-imperial domains elsewhere.

That informal arrangement, however, has increasingly frayed in the 21st century. Repeated expressions of interest by the US administration in acquiring Greenland suggest a transactional and unilateral approach to international affairs that unsettles long-standing alliances.

Washington's posture toward Latin America — particularly Venezuela — reflects a comparable stance. The US administration pursued "maximum pressure" policies against the government of Venezuelan President Nicolas Maduro through sanctions, diplomatic isolation and the recognition of an opposition figure as "interim president". In Venezuela, the recent "abduction" of Maduro highlighted a stark departure from the defensive logic that originally underpinned the Monroe Doctrine.

Military adventurism may influence events in the short term, but it seldom produces durable peace or sustained prosperity.

The wars in Iraq and Afghanistan, whose combined costs reached into the trillions of dollars, demonstrate how interventions justified on grounds of "national security" can leave fractured institutions and lingering regional instability in their wake.

Today, the global legal and moral framework intended to constrain the use of force appears increasingly fragile.

When power displaces principle, insecurity expands rather than diminishes.

The lesson of history — from Monroe to Roosevelt, from Cold War interventions to contemporary power politics — is that dominance may compel compliance, but it does not generate legitimacy. Without legitimacy, peace remains elusive.

The author is a professor of social sciences at Zayed University in Abu Dhabi, UAE.

The views do not necessarily reflect those of China Daily or the institution he serves.