Trump’s coercive approach risks driving Latin America into China’s arms
Short-term wins should not be mistaken for long-term gains.
Yet the coercive approach that Trump and his advisors have adopted risks undermining, not strengthening, the U.S. position in Latin America. As the U.S. alienates its long-time friends, China is prepared to market itself as an alternative.
Like all great powers throughout history, China’s ambitions have grown with its wealth. Latin America, which Beijing merely nodded to in the 20th century, is a target of Chinese economic and political activity in the 21st. Trade between China and Latin American states has risen exponentially, from $18 billion in 2002, to $450 billion in 2022, with China replacing the United States as the top trading partner for some of the region’s largest economies. Investment too is on the rise. From rail lines in Mexico to dams in Ecuador, Chinese-backed conglomerates have bankrolled numerous infrastructure projects across the region.
Senior U.S. officials are increasingly concerned about these developments and their implications for U.S. security. On Feb. 13, Adm. Alvin Halsey, who leads U.S. Southern Command, testified that China’s increased presence “creates vulnerabilities and a potential ability to exploit global chokepoints” during conflict scenarios. His predecessor, Gen. Laura Richardson, was just as alarmed, commenting last year that China’s infrastructure projects could be converted for military use in the future.
Much of the commentary is overblown. While it’s indisputably true that Latin America is more contested today than it was even a decade ago, this isn’t saying much in a region where the United States until recently faced no competitors at all. China’s involvement in Latin America is neither as benevolent as Beijing indicates nor as nefarious as Washington describes. China’s big infrastructure initiatives are driven largely by self-interest: extracting raw materials and establishing a deeper imprint on global supply chains. Though Beijing surely relishes the angst that its involvement in Latin America causes in Washington, China is less interested in displacing the United States than filling gaps left by U.S. inattention.
Moreover, the United States continues to hold a position of superiority in its near-abroad. Washington remains the region’s security partner of choice. With the exceptions of short-lived military exercises and visits by senior Chinese military officials, the PLA is reluctant to establish anything more than a short-term presence in the area, in part because it still lacks the ability to sustain a large military mission so far from its shores. Latin American militaries also remain dependent on U.S. arms to function—the United States accounts for half of the region’s arms imports—and would find it difficult to diversify to other suppliers even if they wanted to.
The Trump administration’s preference for the stick, however, risks blowing up Washington’s advantages in the Western Hemisphere and sparking the very geopolitical competition that U.S. officials seek to prevent.
So far, Trump has treated America’s neighbors to the south as a metaphorical punching bag, relying on various types of coercion to browbeat countries into meeting his demands. The pressure has elicited some modest concessions. Panama, for example, was apparently so concerned about Trump’s threats to retake the Panama Canal that it agreed to withdraw early from China’s Belt and Road Initiative and forced CK Hutchison Holdings, the Hong Kong-based company, to sell two ports on either end of the waterway. After the U.S. president threatened to slap tariffs of 25 percent on Mexican exports to the United States, the Mexican government deployed an additional 10,000 troops to the U.S.-Mexico border and extradited 29 senior narcotraffickers to the U.S. for prosecution.
But short-term wins should not be mistaken for long-term gains. While sticks are sometimes necessary to accomplish core foreign-policy goals, they can backfire if sustained over time, especially in an increasingly multi-polar world where small countries have bargaining power.
There are several ways Latin American states could choose to retaliate. For example, they could eschew negotiations with Washington altogether or at least downgrade their urgency. While this would be painful for Latin America as a whole, it would impose costs on the United States too, complicating cooperation on the very issues, like immigration, anti-drug enforcement and trade, the Trump administration cares about most.
Over the longer term, Latin American states have more options. They might decide to hedge by expanding their relationships with China—to lessen U.S. leverage and afford themselves greater geopolitical flexibility. If Washington continues to insist on a one-dimensional strategy, the hedging could become outright balancing against the United States, giving competing power centers like China an open-door to exert even greater influence on America’s doorstep.
To forestall this undesirable outcome, rather than strong-arming Latin America into submission, the United States should lean on persuasion. If Washington doesn’t want Latin American countries turning to China for infrastructure development or tech modernization, then U.S. companies or government-backed initiatives will need to compete for these opportunities. Trump’s decision to cut more than 80 percent of programs at the U.S. Agency for International Development, which will reduce development and public investment in Latin America, will undermine these efforts and should be reconsidered. Generous U.S. security assistance may also strengthen ties but can’t replace real economic investment and political engagement.
What Latin American countries want most of all is to be partners in joint pursuits, not supplicants.
Daniel R. DePetris is a fellow at Defense Priorities and a syndicated foreign affairs columnist for the Chicago Tribune.
Jennifer Kavanagh is a senior fellow and director of military analysis at Defense Priorities and an adjunct professor at Georgetown University.
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