Greetings, Yves here. The Trump administration has exposed the United States’ imperialistic tendencies in an unabashed manner, not just towards its northern neighbor, Canada, but also towards countries throughout South America. However, the history of U.S. dominance and bullying across this region extends far beyond recent events.
By Medea Benjamin and Nicolas J. S. Davie, the authors of War In Ukraine: Making Sense of a Senseless Conflict, now in a revised, updated 2nd edition.
Medea Benjamin is the cofounder of CODEPINK for Peace and has authored several books, including Inside Iran: The Real History and Politics of the Islamic Republic of Iran.
Nicolas J. S. Davies is an independent journalist, a researcher for CODEPINK, and the author of Blood on Our Hands: The American Invasion and Destruction of Iraq.
Simon Bolivar, revered as the liberator of South America, famously remarked, “The United States appears to be destined by Providence to plague America with misery in the name of liberty.” Over the last 200 years, U.S. leaders have consistently lived up to this grim observation.
In the early 1800s, Bolivar championed the independence of Venezuela and five other nations from Spanish rule. Yet, the United States has persistently refused to genuinely recognize the autonomy of various countries in the region. Even in today’s context, Donald Trump has derogatorily labeled the Canadian prime minister, Mark Carney, as simply a “governor,” implying that Canada is merely another U.S. state.
The U.S.-backed dictators who are displacing democratically elected and socialist governments across Latin America today claim to do so in the name of liberty, echoing Bolivar’s warnings. However, this liberty is often a façade, allowing traditional elites to exploit and oppress their less privileged compatriots, whether as conquistadors for the Spanish Empire or, more contemporarily, as agents of the U.S. and multinational corporations.
Trump’s 2025 National Security Strategy (NSS) sought to “restore American preeminence in the Western hemisphere.” It revisited the Monroe Doctrine, called for “exclusive contracts for our companies,” and pledged to eliminate foreign nations that engage in infrastructure projects in the region.
The clearest manifestation of this renewed Monroe Doctrine came in the form of the U.S. invasion of Venezuela. On January 3, 2026, U.S. forces bombed locations in Venezuela, invaded Caracas, and captured President Nicolás Maduro along with his wife, Cilia Flores. Trump has audaciously declared the U.S. intent to “govern” Venezuela and boasted about securing the largest oil deal in history.
Venezuela isn’t alone in facing U.S. military aggression. The so-called “war on drugs” has become a pretext for expanding American military presence throughout the region. Since September 2025, the U.S. military has destroyed small vessels in the Caribbean and eastern Pacific, resulting in the deaths of at least 227 individuals without establishing their culpability. U.S. forces are now engaged in counternarcotics endeavors in Ecuador, with similar joint military operations being pursued in Colombia, Honduras, and beyond.
Military intervention is just one element of Washington’s influential apparatus. Trump has utilized intimidation and persuasion to encourage the election of ultra-right authoritarian leaders throughout Latin America who mirror his own ideology. Just before the midterm elections in Argentina in 2025, Trump offered Javier Milei’s far-right administration a crucial $20 billion currency aid package while warning that U.S. support would be contingent on Milei’s electoral success. Following the victory of Milei’s party, Trump proclaimed, “He had considerable assistance from us.”
From Colombia to Peru, Argentina, Chile, Ecuador, Honduras, Bolivia, and Panama, there has been a marked regression from the region’s progressive pink tide, which once promised a more autonomous and socially equitable Latin America. Presently, only Mexico and Brazil remain major countries led by leftist governments, and Brazil will face a crucial presidential election in October.
The progressive coalitions that gained power in Latin America successfully forged strong grassroots connections between indigenous and rural populations in marginalized areas and urban laborers, linking battles for identity, land, and sovereignty with the quest for economic justice. However, these alliances were fragile, as the entrenched power of oligarchies remained largely untouched. Elites were never willing to relinquish their wealth and influence without resistance.
This struggle is not exclusive to Latin America. In the United States, powerful interests are reacting vehemently to the ascent of democratic socialists, who propose real solutions to societal issues, prioritizing the needs of ordinary people over the enrichment of the wealthy, as dictated by the current neoliberal system. In Latin America and the Caribbean, the same conflict is unfolding, often with greater severity.
The right has adeptly exploited genuine concerns about crime, drug trafficking, economic distress, and, in some instances, immigration. Promises to eliminate violent crime through stringent crackdowns inspired by El Salvador’s Nayib Bukele resonate deeply with many voters.
Just as disillusioned Americans, facing economic uncertainty and unfulfilled promises from the Democrats, have turned to Donald Trump and Republicans as the only apparent alternative in a flawed two-party system, voters in Latin America are confronted with similarly restricted and intentionally misleading choices, often resulting in the election of right-wing administrations aligned with Trump.
This trend is reflected in the news media that shape these electoral decisions. Since the 1980s, broadcasting in Latin America has increasingly fallen under the control of a handful of large commercial conglomerates, predominantly linked to affluent, influential families. Unlike other parts of the world, Latin America lacks sufficient public broadcasting and community media to counteract the dominance of commercial outlets, though there is a nascent alternative media movement with platforms like TeleSur, Brasil do Fato, La Jornada, and Kawsachun News.
The United States similarly suffers from a limited corporate media landscape, but Latin American media is even more concentrated, aligning closely with oligarchic interests. The market concentration among Latin American media conglomerates is among the highest globally, with four transnational companies dominating 89% of broadcast media across six principal countries, while Carlos Slim, a Mexican billionaire, holds the largest media assets. The overwhelming influence of these media conglomerates hampers any efforts toward democratic reform or socialism.
Another significant challenge for progressive movements is direct U.S. intervention. As grassroots organizations in Latin America unite for structural change, the U.S. invests heavily in right-wing political movements to undermine them.
The National Endowment for Democracy (NED), funded by the U.S., has allocated billions to interfere with political processes worldwide, especially to bolster opposition to governments resistant to U.S. directives. Allan Weinstein, a key figure behind the NED’s establishment, stated in 1991, “Much of what we do today was once conducted covertly by the CIA.”
The NED’s 2025 budget for Latin America and the Caribbean reached $36.7 million. Nonetheless, it directs most of its funding to regions where U.S. influence is weakest, notably investing heavily in countries like Cuba, Venezuela, and Nicaragua, and globally in nations like China and Russia.
In countries where the U.S. has stronger ties to existing ruling classes and compliant media, it safeguards and promotes its interests through ideologically aligned NGOs. Some of these receive direct U.S. funding, while others depend on resources from corporate sponsors and foundations.
One influential entity in Latin America is the Atlas Network, an extensive international organization that unites corporate stakeholders, conservative donors, and extreme right-wing groups to coordinate activities. While the Atlas Network does not receive direct funding from the U.S. government, it benefits from financial support to numerous NGOs and foundations it collaborates with to forge right-wing coalitions and parties.
The Atlas Network was established in San Francisco in 1981 by Sir Antony Fisher, a British entrepreneur with connections to Margaret Thatcher, Milton Friedman, and F.A. Hayek, who all reportedly endorsed Fisher’s initiative. Operating discreetly as “a think tank that constructs think tanks,” it trains partners on tactics for “winning the battle for hearts and minds,” boasting annual revenue of $28 million and collaboration with over 500 affiliate organizations in nearly 100 countries.
Historically, Atlas has been closely linked to influential corporate interests. In the 1990s, it was notably aligned with the tobacco industry; the UK’s Tobacco Control Research Group noted Atlas’s role in opposing tobacco control regulations throughout Latin America. Furthermore, the organization has longstanding affiliations with ExxonMobil and the Charles Koch Foundation.
Recently, the Atlas Network has been associated with Donald Trump, the Brexit campaign in the UK, and protest movements against leftist administrations in Latin America.
Atlas and its affiliates have even created fake online profiles to amplify the #SOSCuba campaign on Twitter during the 2021 protests in Cuba, orchestrated trolling campaigns during the 2019 coup in Bolivia, and influenced elections in Ecuador and Peru. Additionally, Atlas collaborated with the now imprisoned Argentine operator Fernando Cemedo to orchestrate protests by “Gen Z” against the Scheinbaum government in Mexico in November 2025.
In Brazil, as agribusiness continues to threaten the Amazon rainforest, climate science denial remains a focal point of Atlas’s initiatives. The Atlas Network sponsors the annual Liberty Forum, which unites right-wing factions with the agribusiness sector to strategize and communicate their agendas in Brazil. Atlas’s primary collaborator for the Liberty Forum is the libertarian Institute for Business Studies, which maintains close ties to imprisoned former president Jair Bolsonaro, with his son, Flavio, challenging President Lula in the upcoming election.
Another notable American ideological influence in Latin America is evangelical Protestant Christianity, which has surged from 4% of the population half a century ago to between 20% and 25% today. Like in the United States, evangelical Christianity serves as both a religious and political force, prompting movements against abortion, homosexuality, and liberal education while often endorsing state violence in the name of law and order.
The proliferation of evangelical Christianity in Latin America was part of a calculated Cold War strategy initiated by the U.S. Information Agency in 1954 to combat communism and counter the rising influence of liberation theology among Catholics.
By the 1980s, Guatemala had its first evangelical president, Efrain Rios Montt, who assumed power in a 1982 coup, subsequently overseeing a U.S.-backed genocide against the Mayan indigenous population, specifically targeting the Ixil community. Ríos Montt’s evangelical beliefs helped him forge essential alliances with U.S. evangelicals, who funded his regime and lobbied Congress for military aid despite mounting evidence of atrocities.
Remarkably, evangelical Christianity has continued to spread in Guatemala since the civil war’s conclusion in the 1990s, even among the Ixil survivors. This faith has taken root in the region, despite the community grappling with the memory of a genocide executed by an evangelical leader.
During a visit to Guatemala, Nicolas encountered a family in Ixil mourning a father who was beheaded by an army death squad, allegedly for aiding the Guerrilla Army of the Poor. His widow joined a weaving collective of genocide survivors, tirelessly producing intricate geometric designs for which Ixil women are renowned. Yet, despite this dark past, many Ixil families, like hers, found solace in evangelical Christianity in the years following the genocide.
The resurgence of right-wing factions in Latin America and the Caribbean is tragic, but the resilience of indigenous and working-class communities deserves our support and solidarity.
The predominantly indigenous population of Bolivia has survived two right-wing coups in under a decade, realizing that their voices matter. When they unite to say “No,” they can halt labor, block roads, and disrupt the systems that enrich the ruling class. They merit our backing.
The people of Cuba face their most significant challenges since their revolution, coping with an increasingly stringent U.S. blockade that deprives them of essential resources, including fuel, electricity, medical care, and food. Many have succumbed to preventable causes due to U.S. policies. Over the past 68 years, American politicians from both parties have sought unsuccessfully to undermine this resilient model of a nation that, prior to this intensified blockade, provided superior healthcare than the United States. They, too, deserve our solidarity.
As Brazil heads to the polls, countless citizens are standing firm against Trump’s coercion, manipulation by the Atlas Network, hypocritical evangelical rhetoric, and the arrogance and greed displayed by Bolsonaro and his inner circle. They, too, warrant our support.
In countries like Argentina, Chile, Colombia, and Honduras, courageous individuals are already resisting the austerity measures and abuses of newly empowered right-wing leaders, a struggle they have undertaken time and time again. They all merit our support.
The right’s hold over power in much of Latin America is fragile. Recent presidential elections in Colombia and Peru were tightly contested, with many new right-wing administrations grappling with sharply divided parliaments and potent opposition movements. A fresh wave of progressive leaders could emerge across the region in less than four years.
For those of us in the United States, our responsibility is to prevent our government from further interfering. While Simon Bolivar has been correct about U.S. actions for the past two centuries, we are not destined to repeat these patterns forever. The U.S. has the power—and the obligation—to cease exploiting and undermining its neighboring countries.
