Donald Trump’s approach to foreign policy can be summed up in two words: America First. This brand of policy, reminiscent of the Monroe Doctrine, shows a clear distinction in how the former president handles issues in the Western Hemisphere versus the rest of the globe. When it comes to nations like Mexico or Central American countries, Trump believes in a strong American presence. Outside of that, he acts as a cautious balance between safeguarding U.S. interests and recognizing the local dynamics. It’s a dance that has left many scratching their heads, but one thing is clear: it’s a world away from the previous administration’s feeble attempts at globalism.
Historically, the Monroe Doctrine established that America had its own backyard to manage, while the old world was left to fend for itself. During the early days of the republic, America didn’t have the military or economic clout to interfere globally. Fast forward through land purchases and wars against Mexico, and the U.S. became more assertive on the international stage—especially after World War II and the Cold War thrust America into a position of unrivaled power. With the Soviet Union dissolved, the U.S. took the mantle of the world’s leading superpower, outdoing others not just economically, but militarily. If there was ever any doubt about American dominance, China’s reluctance to engage in a major conflict for decades proves that point.
5/37 The Monroe Doctrine is simply that the US treats the Americas as its backyard, and will not tolerate foreign powers establishing beachheads on its property. This started all the way back in 1823 when President No. 5 James Monroe declared that no new European colonies would… pic.twitter.com/VtiUIB5xub
— John Carter (@martianwyrdlord) February 18, 2025
The state of the world today presents a tricky conundrum. The Cold War mentality urged the U.S. to assert its influence broadly to counter communism. Fast-forward to now, and the same pressures haunt the approach to China—though an updated strategy appears to be forming under Trump. His recent move regarding the Panama Canal is a prime example of reasserting American influence right in the face of potential rivals.
Meanwhile, Trump is exploring deals to acquire Ukraine’s rare earth minerals, a necessary step to bring the U.S. back to the forefront in the global market and combat China’s grip on these valuable resources. Simultaneously, there’s chatter about securing similar deals in the Democratic Republic of the Congo as it grapples with Rwandan aggression. It seems that while the West has been busy squabbling, China has been quietly consolidating its power in essential industries, using American reluctance as a golden opportunity.
So where does this leave the U.S.? For years, there has been a cry from the American public for Europe to pull its weight—especially after a long history of protecting European interests at the expense of American lives and resources. The idea of a shared burden is hardly novel, but it has become increasingly apparent that Europe enjoys the comforts of freedom without fully investing in its own defense. Trump’s strategy seems to rest on the notion that America can focus on its sphere while coaxing allies to look after their own neighborhoods.
In an increasingly multipolar world, concepts of power are evolving. As the void of singular American leadership becomes clearer, the argument takes shape: why should the U.S. be the world’s policeman when many nations refuse to uphold their responsibilities? The era of America as the global chief has left many navigating a new normal, where the roles—splitting between the U.S., China, and Russia—could very well redefine global dynamics. The question remains: will Europe step up, or will it continue to lean on American might while waving its flags for socialism? America’s patience is wearing thin, and the call for a more balanced responsibility on the global stage is growing louder than ever.