Who Really Writes History? The Winners, the Losers… or the Liars?

 “History is written by the victors.” It’s a familiar line that many people casually attribute to Winston Churchill. But there’s no evidence he ever said it. George Orwell, however, did—and he meant it as a warning.

In his As I Please column for the Tribune on February 4, 1944, Orwell used the phrase to describe how power shapes memory. Whoever wins—whether a war, an election, or even a public argument—gets to decide what “really” happened. And if the winners are totalitarians, they don’t just shape the story. They can rewrite the past itself.

That idea echoes through one of the most chilling lines in 1984:

“Who controls the past controls the future. Who controls the present controls the past.”

Orwell feared that authoritarian regimes don’t merely lie—they attack the very concept of objective truth. If dictators survive, their lies harden into “history.” If they fall, those lies evaporate. He pointed to Nazi radio reports of imaginary British air raids. Had Hitler won, those fictional raids would have become historical fact, dutifully recorded by future scholars.

So yes—history is written by the winners.

But is it really that simple?

When the Losers Pick Up the Pen

If history were only written by the victors, the 20th century would look very different. Some of the most destructive political myths in modern history were crafted not by triumphant powers, but by the defeated—losers rewriting their loss into a story of betrayal, nobility, or victimhood.

The Stab‑in‑the‑Back Myth: Germany, 1918

After World War I, Germany’s military leadership faced an inconvenient truth: they had lost the war. Rather than accept responsibility, they promoted the Dolchstoßlegende—the Stab‑in‑the‑Back Myth. According to this narrative, the German army was undefeated on the battlefield but sabotaged by Jews, socialists, and democratic politicians at home.

It was a lie. But it was a useful lie.

It destabilized the Weimar Republic, fueled antisemitism, and helped clear the path for the Nazi rise to power. A defeated military elite rewrote history—and millions paid the price.

The Lost Cause: America, 1865

The Confederacy lost the Civil War. Decisively. And yet, in the decades that followed, a new story emerged: the Confederacy hadn’t fought for slavery (despite its own documents saying exactly that), but for “states’ rights.” Slavery, in this retelling, was benign—sometimes even virtuous. The antebellum South became a romantic fantasy, complete with gallant generals and loyal enslaved people.

This myth—history written by the losers—reshaped American memory, culture, and politics for generations. Its echoes still reverberate today.

Truth as a Fragile Habit

Orwell believed that truth depends on a “liberal habit of mind”—a willingness to treat facts as something to be discovered, not manufactured. That habit requires a free press, open debate, and a public that values accuracy over comfort.

Without those, the idea of a “correct” version of history collapses. What remains is simply the version with the most power behind it. Sometimes that power belongs to the victors. Sometimes it belongs to the aggrieved, the resentful, or the defeated.

Either way, Orwell’s warning stands: If we stop believing that facts can be true whether we like them or not, then history becomes nothing more than a contest of narratives—and the loudest storyteller wins.

 

The Power of Reading

If you’ve ever felt calmer after a few pages of a good book, or sharper after sinking into a compelling story, you’re not imagining it. Reading has always been more than a hobby. It’s one of the most powerful tools we have for strengthening the mind, nurturing emotional well‑being, and building a more connected society. And the research is remarkably consistent: reading changes us—physically, cognitively, socially, and emotionally.

Why Reading Helps Us Live Longer

Let’s start with the headline: people who read live longer.

Studies by scientists at the Yale School of Health report show that spending just 30 minutes a day with a book is associated with a 20% reduction in mortality risk. Book readers live, on average, nearly two years longer than non‑readers. Even tiny doses of reading make a difference. Six minutes of reading can reduce stress by up to 68%, lowering heart rate and easing muscle tension more effectively than music or a walk.

And if you read before bed? Your brain gets the message that it’s time to wind down. Print books, in particular, help the mind shift into rest mode in a way that glowing screens simply don’t.

A Workout for the Brain

Think of reading as a gym membership for your mind.

Every chapter strengthens neural pathways, increases white matter, and keeps cognitive systems active and resilient. Regular readers show slower rates of cognitive decline and may reduce their risk of Alzheimer’s and dementia.

Books also demand something modern life rarely does: sustained attention. Following a plot, remembering characters, tracking themes—these are mental marathons. Over time, readers develop deeper focus and longer attention spans, counteracting the constant interruptions of digital life.

The Skills That Shape a Life

Books are extraordinary teachers.

Exposure to rich language naturally expands vocabulary and helps readers internalize the rhythms of effective writing. Complex narratives sharpen critical thinking by encouraging us to analyze motives, identify assumptions, and solve problems.

And the benefits don’t stop at the page. Early reading skills are strongly linked to higher socioeconomic status later in life. Adults who read regularly tend to earn more than those who don’t. Reading isn’t just enrichment—it’s an economic advantage.

Stories Build Empathy and Connection

One of reading’s most beautiful gifts is empathy.

Literary fiction, in particular, strengthens our ability to understand the thoughts and feelings of others. Through stories, we inhabit lives unlike our own, gaining insight into different cultures, struggles, and perspectives.

Books also reduce loneliness. Characters become companions. Narratives become mirrors and windows. And when we watch fictional heroes overcome adversity, we often find courage for our own challenges.

So… How Much Did Americans Read in 2025?

Despite all these benefits, America’s reading habits tell a complicated story.

According to YouGov’s 2025 data:

• 40% of Americans didn’t read a single book.
• 27% read 1–4 books.
• 13% read 5–9 books.
• 19% read 10 or more books.

The patterns behind the numbers are just as revealing:

• Education: People with more education read more books.
• Age: Adults 65+ read significantly more than younger Americans.
• Civic engagement: People who follow public affairs read more—regardless of political identity.

The deeper truth? Readers tend to be more connected to the world around them. They’re more informed, more engaged, and more resilient.

Why These Numbers Matter

These statistics aren’t just about books—they’re about the kind of society we’re building.

Reading strengthens the brain, supports emotional well‑being, deepens empathy, reduces loneliness, and contributes to longer, healthier lives. When 40% of Americans read no books in a year, it’s not a moral failing—it’s a missed opportunity for personal and collective flourishing.

The data offers an invitation: rediscover the transformative power of the written word.

How to Build a Reading Habit That Actually Sticks

A reading habit isn’t about willpower. It’s about designing your environment and routines so reading becomes the easiest choice in the room.

Optimize Your Environment

·        Make it obvious: Put a book on your pillow each morning. This acts as a visual cue to read before sleep.

·        Reduce friction: Always carry a book or e-reader so you can use "dead time"—like waiting for an appointment or commuting—to read a few pages.

·        Digital discipline: Move reading apps to your home screen; bury social media in folders.

Start Ridiculously Small

·        Two‑minute rule: Commit to reading just one page or for just two minutes a day. The goal is to master the art of showing up rather than the volume of reading.

·        Consistency beats intensity: Daily repetition rewires the brain.  Your brain responds better to small, daily repetition than infrequent marathon sessions. 

Use Habit Stacking

·        Attach reading to something you already do: "After I [current habit], I will [read one page]".  For example, read for five minutes after your morning coffee or right after you finish dinner.

Read What You Actually Enjoy

·        Ditch the “shoulds.”  Avoid books you feel you should read but find boring. Motivation vanishes when reading feels like a chore.

·        Give yourself permission to quit books that don’t spark interest. If a book isn't grabbing you, give yourself permission to stop and pick up something that excites you. 

Track and Celebrate Progress

·        Use apps like Goodreads or The StoryGraph to log your progress. Seeing a streak or a finished list provides a dopamine reward that reinforces the habit.

If reading is a superpower, it’s one that anyone can reclaim. A few pages a day can change your stress levels, your focus, your empathy, your sleep, and even your lifespan. And in a world overflowing with noise, reading remains one of the most reliable paths back to depth, clarity, and connection.

 

Why Millions of Americans Remain Unregistered to Vote

Back in September, I spent some time digging into the 2024 election data from the U.S. Federal Election Commission and the Census Bureau. What I found was sobering: as I wrote in Democracy by Default: When Silence Elects the President, more than a quarter of eligible Americans in 2024 were not registered to vote.

Not long after, a friend asked me a deceptively simple question: Why? Why do so many millions of eligible citizens remain outside the electorate? I told her I’d need to think about it. And I did.

The answer, as it turns out, isn’t a single reason but a web of them—structural, emotional, economic, and logistical. Understanding this landscape helps explain why registration remains a barrier for so many, even before they ever reach a ballot box.

Structural Barriers and Legal Complexities

Unlike many democracies where voter registration is automatic or government‑facilitated, the United States places the responsibility squarely on individuals. That “do‑it‑yourself” model is further complicated by state‑level rules that vary dramatically in both accessibility and restrictiveness.

• Burdensome Laws: Strict voter ID requirements, narrow registration windows, and early deadlines can discourage participation—especially among first‑time voters or anyone unfamiliar with the process.
• Inaccessibility and Cost: Essential documents like birth certificates or passports cost money and time to obtain. These hurdles fall hardest on low‑income communities and communities of color.
• Vulnerable Populations: Young adults, people with disabilities, and those experiencing homelessness often face unstable addresses, limited transportation, or difficulty accessing registration sites.
• Disinformation and Confusion: Misleading or contradictory information about eligibility and deadlines—sometimes spread deliberately—creates uncertainty that leads many to simply opt out.

Disengagement and Distrust

Even when the mechanics of registration are clear, emotional and psychological barriers can be just as powerful.

• Apathy and Cynicism: Many non‑registrants believe their vote won’t matter or that the political system is too broken to be worth engaging with.
• Lack of Representation: When people feel that no candidate or party speaks to their needs or values, disengagement becomes a rational response.
• Economic Pressures: For those juggling multiple jobs, caregiving responsibilities, or financial instability, political participation can feel like a luxury. As organizations like VoteRiders point out, survival often takes precedence over civic engagement.

Additional Factors

Even highly engaged citizens can fall through the cracks.

• Time and Convenience: Life gets busy. Work schedules, family obligations, transportation challenges, or simply missing a deadline can derail even the best intentions.
• Voter Suppression: Research from the Brennan Center for Justice highlights how voter roll purges, reduced voting hours, and restrictions on third‑party registration efforts disproportionately affect marginalized communities and depress participation.

Closing Reflection

The persistence of widespread non‑registration isn’t the result of one broken piece of the system. It’s the cumulative effect of legal hurdles, logistical challenges, economic pressures, and emotional disillusionment. When millions of eligible Americans remain unregistered, our democracy becomes less representative and less responsive.

Addressing this gap requires more than policy tweaks. It calls for a renewed commitment to civic inclusion, public trust, and the belief that every voice deserves a place in shaping our shared future.

The Future Orwell Feared Is the One We Built

Those of us of a certain age remember reading George Orwell’s dystopian novel Nineteen Eighty-Four in high school. I don't know if today’s students still encounter it in the classroom —but I do know it is one of the most frequently challenged and banned books in American schools and libraries. The reasons for banning are familiar: its political themes (anti-authoritarianism, totalitarianism), its social critiques (censorship, surveillance), and its sexual content. I am not a fan of banning books. The instinct to suppress a story is often a sign that the story hits too close to home. And Nineteen Eighty-Four hits close to home more often than we would like to admit.

Eric Arthur Blair (25 June 1903 – 21 January 1950),
an English novelist, poet, essayist, journalist,
and critic who wrote under the pen name of George Orwell. 

Orwell’s 1949 novel was not meant as prophecy, but as a warning—a reminder of how fragile truth can be, how easily power can distort reality, and how quickly freedom can erode when people stop paying attention. The parallels to our own moment are hard to ignore. From pervasive surveillance to the manipulation of language, from the rise of personality cults to the erosion of shared truth, Orwell’s themes echo through our politics, our technology, and even our daily habits.

Surveillance & Privacy

Governments and private corporations alike have access to information that would make Orwell's Thought Police envious. Orwell’s telescreens were crude compared to the devices we willingly carry in our pockets. Smartphones, smart speakers, fitness trackers, and social media platforms collect astonishing amounts of data—location, habits, preferences, even emotional patterns. Private companies now function as de facto surveillance states—collecting data, shaping behavior, and enforcing speech rules. Their power rivals that of governments, yet they operate with far less transparency. 

Information Control & “Fake News”

Orwell’s Ministry of Truth rewrote history daily. Today, we face misinformation, propaganda, and the deliberate twisting of facts at a scale Orwell could not have imagined. Entire narratives can be manufactured, amplified, and normalized within hours. Objective truth becomes slippery, contested, or dismissed altogether. Social media algorithms decide what we see, what we do not, and what we are nudged to believe. They amplify outrage, reward tribalism, and create echo chambers that distort our sense of the world.

Language & Thought Control

“Doublespeak” and "Newspeak" were designed to shrink the range of thought. Modern versions appear in political slogans, corporate euphemisms, and online discourse that rewards outrage over nuance. And while we do not have Orwell's “thoughtcrime,” we do have online shaming and the policing of ideas deemed unacceptable by whichever group holds cultural power in the moment.

Cults of Personality

Big Brother’s omnipresent face finds echoes in the fervent devotion surrounding certain political figures today. Loyalty becomes a test of identity. Criticism becomes betrayal. The individual becomes secondary to the myth.

Force & Fear

Orwell’s Party relied on force—intimidation, punishment, and the crushing of dissent. Modern parallels appear in the use of state power and even paramilitary-style groups, to silence critics, intimidate voters, or punish political opponents. Fear becomes a tool of governance.

Erosion of Truth

Orwell's Winston Smith struggles to hold onto reality mirroring our own battles against revisionist history, denial of scientific facts, and the constant reframing of events to suit political needs. When powerful entities redefine reality, the ground beneath us shifts. Political rhetoric increasingly prioritizes loyalty over truth. Simplified slogans replace complex ideas. Opponents are demonized. “Us vs. them” becomes the default setting.

Why Nineteen Eighty-Four Still Matters

Orwell did not give us a roadmap for despair—he gave us a warning. Nineteen Eighty-Four remains relevant not because we live in a carbon copy of Oceania, but because the forces Orwell described—surveillance, propaganda, fear, and the corrosion of truth—are perennial threats. They evolve with technology, politics, and culture, but their essence remains the same.  The antidote is the same now as it was then: critical thinking, vigilance, and a stubborn insistence on truth. And perhaps most importantly, the freedom to read, question, and challenge ideas, including the ones that make us uncomfortable. Banning books will not save us from authoritarianism. Reading them just might.

What We Lose When “Fascism” Becomes an All‑Purpose Insult

Every now and then, I find myself revisiting something I wrote and realizing it deserves a second look. That happened with a comment I made back in August, in Truth, Justice, and Wednesday Addams, about Americans going all in on our own homegrown fascist authoritarianism. The conversations that followed were illuminating—not because people necessarily disagreed, but because it became clear that for many, “fascism” has drifted into the realm of all‑purpose insult meant to inflame rather than remaining a defined political ideology. When someone responds by sending me a photo of a left‑leaning politician sporting a crudely drawn Hitler moustache, it is hard not to notice how far the word has wandered from its actual meaning. Fascism is, after all, a far‑right ideology. Using it as a catch‑all slur for anyone you dislike does not just muddy the waters; it obscures the very real dangers the term is meant to describe.

What follows is not an exhaustive treatise, but a reminder of what fascism entails, and why precision matters.

Anti‑Democratic at Its Core

Fascism begins with a rejection of the Enlightenment, the 18th‑century intellectual movement that gave us the philosophical scaffolding for modern democracy. The core commitments of Enlightenment political philosophy are familiar:

• Reason
• Natural rights, individual liberty, and equality
• Consent of the governed
• Constitutionalism, separation of powers, and checks and balances
• Pluralism

Fascism rejects all of these. It replaces the idea of shared power with a centralized, dictatorial state that seeks control over every aspect of public and private life. Democracy and its institutions are not something to be improved or reformed; they are something to be dismantled.

Ultranationalism

Fascism and ultranationalism reinforce one another in ways that are hard to untangle. Ultranationalism takes ordinary nationalism and pushes it past any sense of balance or mutual respect. Where healthy nationalism emphasizes shared identity and the protection of a nation’s sovereignty, ultranationalism elevates the nation’s interests—and its supposed superiority—above all others, even at the expense of basic human rights or global stability. It often embraces coercion and violence as legitimate tools of national advancement. Once this mindset takes hold, cooperation becomes weakness, and the rights of other nations or peoples are treated as irrelevant obstacles. Society is split into imagined hierarchies: those cast as impure, inferior, or dangerous, and those mythologized as bearers of a grand cultural destiny. 

The result is a politics that becomes needlessly destructive, both to those it targets and to the nation that embraces it.

The Lost “Golden Age”

In fascist ideology, the idea of a “Golden Age” functions as a powerful myth—an imagined past elevated to justify sweeping political upheaval and the consolidation of authoritarian rule. This idealized era is rarely rooted in historical reality; instead, it is selectively constructed to evoke pride, nostalgia, and a sense of lost greatness. By promising a return to this fabricated past, fascist leaders bind popular sentiment to the ambitions of the ruling elite.

At the same time, fascism depends on a counter‑narrative of decline. The nation is portrayed as perpetually endangered and victimized—undermined from within, besieged from without, and betrayed by enemies, real or invented. This manufactured atmosphere of crisis becomes the rationale for extreme actions, allowing extraordinary powers to be framed as necessary acts of national salvation.

And, of course, there must be enemies.

Scapegoats, Enemies, and the Politics of Blame

Fascist movements depend on the constant identification of enemies—both within and beyond the nation’s borders—to explain its alleged decline. These scapegoats can be ethnic or religious minorities, immigrants, political rivals, or any group that can be portrayed as fundamentally “other.” The strategy serves two key purposes: it forges unity through shared hostility and diverts attention from the regime’s own shortcomings.

While scapegoating is hardly new in political life, fascism transforms it from a tactic into a central organizing principle of governance.

Militarism and the Glorification of Violence

Fascism places military power, rigid order, and sanctioned violence at the heart of national identity and ambition. Armed force becomes both a tool and a symbol: it suppresses dissent at home, advances expansionist aims abroad, and reinforces the regime’s authority through paramilitary intimidation. The relentless buildup and celebration of military strength form the backbone of fascist governance, enabling aggressive foreign policy and tightening control over society.

Within this worldview, violence is not a regrettable necessity but a celebrated ideal. Fascist ideology frames war as a purifying force capable of restoring national vitality. Martial virtues—discipline, obedience, aggression—are elevated as moral goods. Violence is transformed from a means to an end into a defining feature of national greatness.

Suppressing Opposition and Controlling Truth

No fascist regime permits genuine dissent. Opposition parties, independent journalism, labor movements, and civil society groups are dismantled or crushed—frequently through intimidation or outright violence. The aim is never dialogue; it is absolute control. The leader’s word becomes the sole source of truth. Information is tightly managed, censorship wipes out competing accounts, and propaganda permeates every corner of public life.

Once the state claims authority over reality itself, resistance becomes not only perilous but almost unimaginable.

Economic Control Without Economic Equality

Fascism frequently casts itself as the sworn opponent of socialism and communism, and it leans heavily on anti‑leftist rhetoric to rally support. Yet fascist regimes also impose extensive state control over the economy—not to elevate workers, but to harness corporate power in service of the state’s ambitions. 

The outcome is neither genuine free‑market capitalism nor any form of socialism, but a hybrid system in which economic power is subordinated to political authority.

The Cult of Personality

Finally, fascism ultimately hinges on a leader raised to near‑mythic stature. Through orchestrated spectacle, constant propaganda, and unending repetition, this figure is cast as the nation’s sole redeemer—the one person capable of restoring greatness.

This cult of personality is not decorative; it is the structural core of the regime. The leader must seem flawless, irreplaceable, and monumental. Loyalty is not simply admired—it becomes an absolute requirement.

Why Precision Matters

When we use “fascism” as a casual insult, we flatten all this complexity into a caricature. We lose the ability to recognize the real thing when it appears—not as a cartoon villain with a tiny moustache, but as a political movement that presents itself as patriotic, restorative, and necessary.

Fascism rarely announces itself with jackboots on day one. It arrives wrapped in promises of national renewal, moral clarity, and protection from imagined threats. It thrives in confusion, in the blurring of definitions, in the erosion of shared meaning. If we want to defend democracy, we must be able to name what threatens it. And that begins with using our words carefully—not to score points, but to illuminate the truth.

 

Crisis, Power, and the Playbook of Democratic Backsliding

Few political metaphors carry as much historical weight—or as much cautionary power—as the phrase “Reichstag moment.” It is invoked when a leader uses a crisis to justify sweeping, extraordinary powers that erode democratic norms. To understand why the term resonates so strongly today, it helps to revisit the original event in 1933.

On the night of February 27, 1933, the Reichstag, Germany’s parliament building in Berlin, went up in flames. A young Dutch communist, Marinus van der Lubbe, was arrested at the scene, but historians still debate whether he acted alone, was manipulated, or was a scapegoat. Regardless of the fire’s true origins, the political consequences were immediate and devastating.

Adolf Hitler—just four weeks into his role as Chancellor—seized the moment with remarkable speed. The Nazis blamed the Communists claiming—without any evidence—that the fire was the opening act of a larger insurrection. This narrative—amplified through state-aligned media—created a climate of fear that the party exploited. The next day, President Paul von Hindenburg signed the Decree for the Protection of People and State, commonly known as the Reichstag Fire Decree. The Decree suspended key civil liberties guaranteed by the Weimar Constitution:

• Freedom of speech
• Freedom of the press
• Freedom of assembly
• Privacy of communications
• Protection from arbitrary arrest

Historian Richard J. Evans (The Coming of the Third Reich) notes that the decree “gave the Nazis a carte blanche to suppress all political opposition,” enabling mass arrests of Communists, Social Democrats, and any other critics of the regime.

On March 23, 1933, the Reichstag passed the Enabling Act (officially, Law to Remedy the Distress of the People and the Reich). Under intense intimidation—SA troops, Hitler's paramilitary force, surrounded the building—the Act granted Hitler’s cabinet the power to enact laws without parliamentary approval for four years. The Enabling Act effectively dismantled the Weimar Republic’s democratic framework. Historian Ian Kershaw (Hitler: A Biograph) describes it as “the legal foundation of Hitler’s dictatorship,” allowing the Nazis to outlaw rival parties, control the press, and centralize power.

Together, the Reichstag Fire Decree and the Enabling Act transformed a constitutional democracy into a totalitarian state in a matter of weeks.

The phrase “Reichstag moment” emerged later as historians and political theorists sought language to describe a recurring pattern of exploiting a crisis to justify authoritarian expansion. The term typically refers to:

• Crisis exploitation: using fear or chaos to justify extraordinary measures.
• Emergency powers: expanding executive authority beyond normal constitutional limits.
• Suppression of dissent: targeting political opponents, activists, or journalists
• Narrative control: framing the crisis as proof of internal enemies or subversive threats.

Political scientist Sheri Berman (The Collapse of the Weimar Republic and the Rise of National Socialism in Germany) has written that the Reichstag Fire illustrates how “democratic backsliding often begins with the manipulation of emergencies,” a theme echoed in comparative studies of authoritarian regimes.

The enduring power of the “Reichstag moment” lies in its clarity. It distills a complex historical process into a recognizable pattern:

1. A crisis occurs.
2. A leader frames it as an existential threat.
3. Emergency powers are invoked.
4. Rights are suspended.
5. Opposition is neutralized.
6. Democracy erodes—sometimes quickly, sometimes gradually.

The Reichstag Fire remains one of the most dramatic examples of this sequence, but the pattern is not confined to any one country or era. The “Reichstag moment” is not just a historical reference—it is a conceptual tool. It helps us recognize when leaders use crisis as a shortcut to unchecked power. By understanding the original event and the mechanisms of democratic breakdown, we become better equipped to identify similar patterns in contemporary political life. That is why historians and political analysts continue to invoke it: not to sensationalize, but to remind us that democratic institutions require vigilance.

The Monroe Doctrine Is Back—or Is It?

Suddenly, the Monroe Doctrine is everywhere again. A foreign‑policy statement from 1823 is being invoked in 2026 as if it cleanly maps onto today’s geopolitical landscape. The enthusiasm is striking—and worth unpacking.

Where It All Began: 1823 and the “Era of Good Feelings”

James Monroe

President James Monroe first outlined what would later be called the Monroe Doctrine in his annual message to Congress on December 2, 1823. The United States was still basking in the glow of the so‑called “Era of Good Feelings,” a moment of national pride following the War of 1812. Americans believed they had won a decisive victory. In reality, the war ended in a stalemate. Britain, exhausted by decades of conflict and focused on rebuilding after the Napoleonic Wars, simply agreed to peace. No borders shifted. No major policies changed.

Still, symbolic triumphs—Oliver Hazard Perry’s victory on Lake Erie and Andrew Jackson’s dramatic win at New Orleans (fought after the peace treaty had already been signed)—fed a powerful national myth that outpaced the facts.

A Hemisphere in Flux

Meanwhile, much of Central and South America had recently broken free from European colonial rule. These new nations were fragile, indebted, and vulnerable. U.S. leaders feared that instability or default might tempt European powers to return.

Monroe’s message was direct: any attempt by European nations to colonize or interfere in the Western Hemisphere would be considered a threat to U.S. peace and security. The doctrine was reactive—if Europe interfered, then the U.S. would respond.

At its heart, the Monroe Doctrine was meant to shield the sovereignty of newly independent nations. Monroe believed that keeping Europe out would benefit U.S. economic interests, but those interests were secondary, not central, to the doctrine’s purpose.

A Doctrine the U.S. Couldn’t Enforce

In practice, the Monroe Doctrine was more aspiration than enforceable policy. The United States lacked the military strength to back it up, and European powers knew it. Their disregard was obvious:

• 1833: Britain reclaimed the Falkland Islands.
• 1838–1850: France—and later France with Britain—blockaded Argentina’s Río de la Plata and Buenos Aires.
• 1861: While the U.S. was consumed by the Civil War, Spain reoccupied Santo Domingo and France invaded Mexico, installing a Habsburg emperor.

Only after the Civil War did the U.S. begin enforcing the doctrine more assertively, supporting Mexico’s resistance to French occupation. This marked the start of America’s rise as a hemispheric power—but decades of inconsistency had already damaged trust across Latin America.

Theodore Roosevelt Rewrites the Rules

In 1904, President Theodore Roosevelt dramatically reinterpreted the Monroe Doctrine. What had been a defensive warning became an offensive justification for intervention. The Roosevelt Corollary argued that if Latin American nations failed to maintain order or repay debts, European powers might intervene—so the United States should intervene first.

 President Theodore Roosevelt's
1905 diplomatic mission
to Asia, led by William Howard Taft,
secretly laid the groundwork for
future U.S. conflicts in the Pacific,
including World War II,
by making secret deals that
fueled Japanese imperialism

Roosevelt claimed an American “international police power” to address “chronic wrongdoing or impotence,” transforming the doctrine into a tool of U.S. imperialism. Examples include:

• Dominican Republic (1905–1924): U.S. control of customs houses, followed by occupation.
• Nicaragua (1912–1933): U.S. Marines intervened to crush a revolution and stayed for two decades.
• Haiti (1915–1934): U.S. forces occupied the country after the assassination of its president.

These interventions deepened resentment throughout Latin America.

FDR’s Good Neighbor Policy: A Different Vision

In 1933, President Franklin D. Roosevelt charted a new course by rejecting the Roosevelt Corollary and introducing the Good Neighbor Policy. FDR pledged non‑intervention, mutual respect, diplomatic engagement, and cultural exchange. This shift ended routine U.S. military occupations and opened the door to more cooperative hemispheric relations.

The timing proved crucial. During World War II, the Good Neighbor approach helped unify the Americas. Most Latin American nations aligned with the Allies, provided essential raw materials such as rubber, hosted strategic bases, and curtailed Axis influence. A region once wary of U.S. power became a network of indispensable partners.

The Cold War Ends the Good Neighbor Era

The Cold War quickly unraveled the Good Neighbor Policy. As anti‑communist containment became the overriding priority, earlier commitments to sovereignty and non‑interference faded. The United States resumed overt and covert interventions across Latin America:

• Guatemala (1954) – CIA‑backed overthrow of President Jacobo Árbenz.
• Cuba (1961–1962) – Bay of Pigs invasion and the Cuban Missile Crisis.
• Brazil (1964) – Support for a military coup against President João Goulart.
• Dominican Republic (1965) – Deployment of 22,000 Marines to suppress an uprising.
• Chile (1973) – Support for the coup that brought Augusto Pinochet to power.
• Operation Condor (1970s–1980s) – U.S. intelligence cooperation with South American dictatorships.
• Nicaragua (1981–1990) – Funding the Contras, leading to the Iran‑Contra scandal.
• Grenada (1983) – Invasion to remove a Marxist junta.
• Panama (1989) – Invasion to arrest General Manuel Noriega.

The hemisphere once again became a battleground for U.S. strategic priorities.

2025–2026: A New Corollary Emerges

In December 2025, the Trump administration introduced what it called the “Trump Corollary” to the Monroe Doctrine. The policy seeks to reassert U.S. primacy in the Western Hemisphere and claims the right to intervene to prevent “hostile foreign incursion or ownership of key assets”—and asserting that it “supersedes” the original Monroe Doctrine.

“To supersede” means “to take the place of”—and the term fits, because the Trump Corollary diverges sharply from Monroe’s original intent.  The Monroe Doctrine centered on protecting the sovereignty of Western Hemisphere nations. The Trump Corollary prioritizes “America First” national security interests over the territorial and political autonomy of neighboring states. It asserts that the U.S. no longer extends unconditional respect for the sovereignty of regional partners.  The Trump Corollary also explicitly links national security to U.S. access to the natural resources of Western Hemisphere nations, framing economic extraction as a condition of American security—an approach far removed from Monroe’s defensive posture.

Which Monroe Doctrine Are We Talking About?

The Monroe Doctrine has never been a fixed idea. It has been reinterpreted, stretched, and repurposed for two centuries—sometimes as a shield against European imperialism, sometimes as a justification for American intervention, and sometimes as a diplomatic olive branch. The 2026 revival raises an important question: are we witnessing a return to Monroe’s original vision, or the emergence of something entirely new?

History suggests that every generation remakes the doctrine to fit its own anxieties and ambitions. The real issue, then, is not whether the Monroe Doctrine is “back,” but which version of it policymakers are choosing to resurrect—and what that choice reveals about the future of the Western Hemisphere.