Trump Revives the Monroe Doctrine, But Latin America Chooses Chinese Ports, Railways, and Yuan Loans
If there has been talk in Washington in recent months about “reviving” the Monroe Doctrine, it is worth reminding that this has already been invoked before, and even during the last administration, it was stated that “the Monroe Doctrine is alive and well.” Today, in Trump’s new term, that phrase sounds more like empire nostalgia than a real policy for a region that is rapidly reorganizing into a multipolar mosaic. Latin America is no longer a peripheral region waiting for instructions from Washington; it is calculating, choosing, and negotiating—with China, the U.S., the EU, and its own neighbors.
To recap, the Monroe Doctrine was a U.S. foreign policy statement from 1823 in which Washington warned European powers not to interfere in the affairs of the Western Hemisphere. It was formally presented as a defense against colonialism but soon became the ideological foundation for U.S. interventionism in Latin America, justifying military interventions, covert operations, and regime changes throughout the 19th and 20th centuries.
The fundamental misconception of the “new Monroeism” is the belief that pressure can replace offers. Washington resorts to tariffs, sanctions, and political conditionality, while Beijing—despite its contradictions—offers ports, railways, networks, and credit lines. It is no coincidence that China is today the largest trading partner for most South American countries, with total Chinese-Latin American trade reaching around $515 billion in 2024, along with the announcement of nearly $10 billion in new loans at the China-CELAC summit in Beijing in May of this year. This is economic gravity, not ideology. In contrast, the U.S. strategy most often speaks the language of “security,” while the real challenges—such as infrastructure, financing, and exports—remain poorly addressed.
An example that exposes the cracks in the doctrine is Argentina. Javier Milei built his campaign on harsh anti-China rhetoric, but in practice, Buenos Aires in April 2025 extended its activated currency swap with China for $5 billion—because it was necessary to stabilize reserves and pay for imports. In parallel, Argentina negotiated a new Extended Fund Facility (EFF) arrangement with the IMF. But in the 2025 calculation, those $5 billion from the Chinese swap are listed alongside Washington’s tranches, not instead of them. Let’s emphasize the key reality here: ideological declarations are one thing, liquidity and maturity dates are another.
- A currency swap is a financial arrangement between two parties—usually central banks—in which a certain amount of currencies is exchanged with the obligation to reverse the exchange after a specified period at a pre-agreed exchange rate. In practice, this means that the Chinese central bank and the Argentine central bank might exchange yuan for Argentine pesos, allowing Argentina access to Chinese currency for import payments or servicing debt to Chinese partners. After the agreed period, the currencies are returned with possible interest or fees. These arrangements help strengthen liquidity, stabilize exchange rates, facilitate trade, and reduce dependence on a third currency (like the U.S. dollar) in bilateral transactions.
Peru is another litmus test. The mega-port of Chancay, opened in November 2024 with a symbolic video connection between Xi and President Dina Boluarte, is not just a “Chinese project”; it is a hub that redirects South America’s Pacific trade flows directly toward Asia. Ahead of and during this process, Lima intensified contacts with Chinese state and private giants, from COSCO to BYD. Anyone who wants to challenge Chinese presence must offer a better port, a faster railway, and cheaper credit—something Washington currently does not have.
Even governments rhetorically aligned with the U.S. choose what benefits them. In El Salvador, President Bukele received Chinese “gifts”—a new national library in the city center, and the construction of a national stadium with strong Chinese financing. There is no “embrace of the Chinese model,” but rather realpolitik: those who build, also talk.
Panama is the only case where U.S. pressure truly materialized—but even there, the story is far from a “clear victory.” After Trump personally fueled the narrative of Chinese influence over the Panama Canal, Panamanian authorities initiated reviews of concessions with the Chinese-linked company CK Hutchison. Then came the announcement of the sale of the global portfolio of ports, including terminals along the canal, to a consortium led by BlackRock. But Beijing, using regulatory leverage over the Hong Kong group, pushed COSCO as a conditional partner. Meanwhile, legal disputes and political tensions escalated in Panama. The outcome? Uncertain—and far from a scenario that can be replicated in Brazil, Mexico, or Peru.
The U.S. idea of a “sphere of influence” often refers to the “logic” that a great power must dominate its own backyard. But if this applies to the U.S. in the Caribbean, why shouldn’t it apply to China in East Asia? The double standard is not incidental rhetoric, it is a structural feature of an order where “defense” is defined by the flag. In Latin America, however, the game is played elsewhere: in tariffs, supply chains, minerals, and increasingly in the green transition.
Here we see another crack in “Monroe Doctrine 2.0.” The region is shifting its energy and mobility through specific deliveries of equipment and technology, where Chinese companies—led by BYD—have a huge advantage. The fleet of electric buses in Latin America grew to over six thousand vehicles by the end of 2024, with the largest fleets in Santiago and Bogotá, and further growth expected in Brazil and Mexico. Chile reached record levels of wind and solar energy on a monthly basis in 2024, with renewable sources making up around two-thirds of its total electricity production—heavily supported by Chinese equipment. Anyone who wants to “push China out” must offer hundreds of megawatts, thousands of buses, and reliable charging networks—tomorrow, not in 2035.
Even Mexico, the industrial heart of the continent, is not following the U.S. scenario. After a wave of new tariffs and threats to “close loopholes” in the USMCA, Chinese plans for deep automotive integration via Mexico faltered—delays, investor caution, and even a Chinese regulatory brake on BYD’s factory in Mexico. But this speaks more to American protectionism than to a “return of influence.” If Washington wants to block Chinese electric cars in the North American market, it is paying the price with slowed investments and disrupted supply chains. Latin America then reasonably looks for other channels for export and technology.
- *The USMCA (United States-Mexico-Canada Agreement) is a trade agreement between the U.S., Mexico, and Canada that replaced NAFTA in 2020. It regulates trade, investment, labor standards, and intellectual property protection between the three countries, aiming to modernize and balance regional economic cooperation.
At the same time, the region’s political architecture is not heading toward “bloc” discipline. At the fourth China-CELAC Ministerial Meeting in May 2025, the Beijing Declaration and a joint Action Plan for 2025-2027 were adopted, and new credit lines in yuan were announced. BRICS has expanded and gained new geopolitical weight (although Argentina, under Milei, has withdrawn), while Latin American governments continue to choose “by project,” not “by flag.” Additionally, Chinese sovereign lending has been lower in recent years compared to its “golden age,” but it has adapted through FDI, trade, and local financial arrangements—which is more practical for many governments than ideological declarations.
The “revival” of the Monroe Doctrine does not turn back time. It merely exposes the fact that the U.S. no longer has the instruments with which it once dominated the hemisphere—and especially does not have a credible positive offer. Where Washington resists with tariffs and conditions, Beijing comes with cranes and loans. Where the U.S. offers military cooperation and seminars, China offers terminals, networks, and batteries. If it wants to remain a serious player in Latin America, Washington must sketch something measurable—concrete projects, long-term financing without politicization, and joint industrial plans. Neighborhoods are not conquered with doctrines from 1823, but with tenders from 2025—and for now, China is writing them much more legibly.
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