Donald Trump’s rise to political prominence was fueled in part by his rejection of the foreign policy orthodoxy that had dominated Washington for decades. For much of the post-Cold War period, American foreign policy was shaped by an interventionist mindset associated with neoconservative thinking. Administrations from both parties embraced ambitious projects that ranged from democracy-promotion and humanitarian interventions to nation-building efforts in distant regions. These initiatives often carried enormous financial and human costs while producing results that many Americans viewed as uncertain or unsatisfactory. Trump distinguished himself by openly criticizing this tradition, arguing that the United States had spent trillions of dollars on wars and global commitments that did little to improve the lives of American citizens.
The message resonated strongly with voters who had grown skeptical of grand ideological projects abroad. Trump’s “America First” doctrine promised a more restrained and pragmatic approach to international affairs, one that would measure foreign policy decisions according to whether they directly advanced American interests. In theory, this framework implied that the United States would avoid costly interventions while concentrating its diplomatic and economic resources on areas where strategic gains were tangible and measurable. The idea was not to abandon global leadership altogether, but to redefine leadership in a way that placed the prosperity and security of Americans at the center of decision-making.
Yet while the underlying philosophy of America First appealed to a broad segment of the electorate, the application of that doctrine has sometimes appeared inconsistent in certain regions. Latin America and the Caribbean represent a particularly revealing case because the policies pursued there do not always clearly indicate how the interests of Americans are being served. If the administration wishes to maintain credibility as a champion of pragmatic foreign policy, it must develop a more coherent strategy toward a region that is increasingly becoming a theater of geopolitical competition.
Over the past decade, the Western Hemisphere has attracted growing attention from China, which has significantly expanded its economic footprint across Latin America and the Caribbean. Beijing’s engagement has largely taken the form of large-scale lending, infrastructure development, and commercial partnerships designed to integrate regional economies into Chinese financial and industrial networks. Between 2013 and 2021, China funneled more than $145 billion in loans to countries in the region, primarily through major state-backed financial institutions such as the Export-Import Bank of China and the China Development Bank. Over half of these funds were offered as non-concessional loans, indicating that Beijing was not merely engaging in development assistance but pursuing commercially-oriented financing arrangements that nevertheless carried clear geopolitical implications.
China’s growing role in the region has understandably attracted the attention of American policymakers. The Western Hemisphere has historically been regarded as an area where the United States enjoys unique strategic influence, and any significant external presence inevitably raises concerns in Washington. The Trump administration has therefore attempted to counter Beijing’s expansion by warning governments in Latin America and the Caribbean about the potential risks associated with Chinese investment and partnerships. In principle, this objective is consistent with the broader America First framework, which seeks to protect American strategic advantages in an increasingly-competitive international system.
However, the manner in which some of these efforts have been pursued raises important questions about their long-term effectiveness. A prominent example involves the pressure exerted by Washington on Caribbean governments to terminate their medical cooperation programs with Cuba. For years, several Caribbean states have relied on Cuban medical personnel to supplement their healthcare systems, particularly in areas where domestic capacity is limited. American officials argued that these programs amounted to a form of labor exploitation in which the Cuban government captured a large share of doctors’ earnings while also using overseas placements as opportunities for intelligence gathering.
While such concerns may have merit, diplomacy rarely succeeds when it relies solely on discouraging existing arrangements without offering viable alternatives. Caribbean governments were effectively told that they should dismantle programs that provided tangible benefits to their healthcare systems, yet the United States did not present a clear replacement that would address the resulting gap. From the perspective of smaller states, this approach creates an obvious dilemma. If a long-standing program is eliminated but no substitute emerges, the practical consequences fall on local populations rather than on the policymakers who issued the recommendation.
The issue is not whether the United States should provide direct financial assistance or large-scale development aid to replace these programs. Supporters of the America First philosophy often argue that American taxpayers should not bear the burden of funding social programs in other countries, and there is a legitimate debate about the appropriate scope of foreign aid. The problem arises when existing arrangements are discouraged without establishing alternative forms of engagement that can maintain constructive relationships.
If the United States wishes to reduce the influence of rival powers in the region, it must demonstrate that partnership with Washington produces meaningful opportunities. These opportunities need not involve large financial transfers. Instead, they could take the form of research collaborations, scientific partnerships, educational exchanges, and limited technology transfer agreements that link American institutions with their counterparts across the Caribbean and Latin America. Such initiatives would strengthen American influence in ways that are relatively inexpensive while simultaneously providing tangible benefits to partner countries.
Admittedly, the economic and technological structure of many Latin American and Caribbean economies presents limitations. Beyond issues such as illegal immigration, drug trafficking, and other illicit activities that affect American domestic security, the region does not possess the level of technological sophistication found in advanced industrial economies. Innovation capacity remains limited in many countries, and research infrastructure is often underdeveloped. As a result, the United States is unlikely to pursue the kind of deep technological integration it has explored with highly-developed partners such as Singapore and Germany.
For example, Washington has considered initiatives that emphasize collaboration in cutting-edge sectors such as artificial intelligence through frameworks such as the Technology Prosperity Deal it forged with South Korea in 2025. Such arrangements are feasible with technologically-advanced allies because they possess the scientific base, industrial ecosystems, and regulatory frameworks necessary to sustain high-level research collaboration. Most Latin American and Caribbean economies simply lack that infrastructure at present, which means that partnerships in these fields would likely remain limited in scope.
Nevertheless, the absence of advanced technological capacity does not mean that the region lacks strategic importance. In many cases, early-stage partnerships can shape the trajectory of future development. If the United States withdraws from meaningful engagement, other powers will inevitably step in to fill the gap. China has already exercised a willingness to invest in infrastructure, telecommunications networks, ports, and energy systems across the region. These projects create long-term economic relationships that can gradually shift geopolitical alignments.
The implications extend beyond finance. Should China deepen its involvement in digital infrastructure and technological development within Latin America and the Caribbean, it could gradually embed Chinese systems and standards throughout these economies. Telecommunications networks, data centers, cloud-computing platforms, and digital services are not merely commercial assets; they also carry strategic significance in an era where information and connectivity play central roles in economic and national security.
At present, American policymakers are unlikely to view countries such as Jamaica or Trinidad and Tobago as significant platforms for Chinese intelligence operations. These nations do not possess advanced technological ecosystems capable of generating sensitive industrial data on a large scale. However, technological capacity is not static. If Chinese firms build and operate critical digital infrastructure in these countries, they may create new channels through which data flows can be monitored or accessed.
This possibility raises concerns about indirect pathways for industrial espionage. If Beijing establishes a strong technological presence across the Caribbean and Latin America, it could leverage these networks to gather information or monitor communications that intersect with American businesses and institutions operating in the region. The strategic risk lies not in the current capabilities of these countries but in the infrastructure that external partners may construct within them.
For this reason, a policy that focuses primarily on telling regional governments what they should avoid doing is unlikely to succeed. Smaller nations operate within a pragmatic framework in which economic opportunities and development prospects carry significant weight. When one partner imposes restrictions or discourages cooperation without offering credible alternatives, governments will naturally seek relationships with actors willing to provide tangible benefits.
China has recognized this dynamic and has approached the region with a transactional model that emphasizes infrastructure financing and investment. Although these arrangements are often motivated by Beijing’s strategic interests, they nonetheless present concrete opportunities that local leaders can use to advance development goals. By contrast, a strategy centered primarily on warnings about external influence risks appearing abstract and unpersuasive.
If the Trump administration wishes to preserve American influence in the Western Hemisphere, it must think more carefully about how the America First doctrine is translated into regional policy. Protecting national interests does not require large-scale aid programs or costly interventionist projects, but it does require a willingness to cultivate partnerships that align the interests of neighboring countries with those of the United States.
