Even before officially taking office, Donald Trump has claimed his first victim on the international stage: Justin Trudeau.

True, the Canadian prime minister was an easy target: he was already weakened by a number of scandals and controversial domestic and foreign policy decisions, by the exit from the parliamentary majority of the New Democratic Party under Jagmeet Singh in early September, and, most importantly, by the resignation of the deputy prime minister and treasury minister, Chrystia Freeland, on December 16.

International politics influenced both of the latter two decisions. In September 2023, Trudeau had accused the Indian government of involvement in the assassination on Canadian soil of Sikh independence leader Hardeep Singh Nijjar, considered a “terrorist” by New Delhi. The Sikh community accounts for 2 percent of Canada’s population, and within it thrives the movement for independence in Khalistan, the historic region straddling Punjab, Haryana, Himachal Pradesh, Kashmir and Rajasthan, ruled by Sikhs until the British arrived in India. Violently attacked by New Delhi, Trudeau had distanced himself from the Khalistan movement, accelerating Jagmeet Singh’s exit from the majority.

Chrystia Freeland’s resignation, on the other hand, is linked directly to Donald Trump’s threatening attitude, and in particular to Trudeau’s reaction, which she deemed overly timid. The president-elect’s vow in late November to levy an additional 25 percent tariff on all imports from the country (a threat extended to Mexico and China), as well as his talk about Canada as the 51st U.S. state, seemed at first facetious but became increasingly serious and insistent. Simultaneously came the threats of annexing the Panama Canal Zone and Greenland, peacefully, if possible, but by military force if the demand was not graciously granted.

Many have likened the intentions, language and motivations of the not-yet U.S. president to Xi Jinping’s regarding Taiwan and Vladimir Putin’s regarding Ukraine. Yet, no one seriously thinks the consequences could be the same because, as it is said, the United States is the United States, where there is a system of checks and balances, and where the president does not have the same latitude of power as the leaders of authoritarian countries such as China and Russia. One might add another distinguishing feature: the United States is a status quo power, while China and Russia are “revisionist” powers. In the slang of international politics, a “status quo” power is said to be one that would like to preserve existing political balances, evidently because they benefit it; and a “revisionist” power is one that would like to upset them, because they handicap it. The problem is that the United States, challenged by its own relative decline, is less and less convinced that it benefits from the status quo, and so it too slips more and more toward “revisionist” behavior. The Chinese believe this: “The United States,” said Foreign Minister Wang Yi in June 2022, “is the main source of disruption to the current world order.”

Officially, Washington still upholds the status quo, complacently referred to as the “liberal international order,” and turns the accusations of “disruption” against China and Russia. Well, one of the clearest pieces of evidence of the success of that now-declining “order” is the immutability of borders. Between 1945 and 2014 there were certainly some violations (particularly involving India and Israel), but no major dislocations, as had happened throughout the nineteenth century and then, especially, after World War I. The Pandora’s box of border changes had become a taboo precisely because everyone knew from experience the catastrophes that would ensue if it were to be opened. When the “bipolar order” guaranteed by the United States and the Soviet Union lost one of its two pillars, Iraq and Serbia believed the old habit to strengthen themselves by conquering others’ territory was again allowed. As we know, they were dead wrong. But we are talking about the 1990s, when the United States still had the strength to enforce at least the most important of its rules – including, precisely, the immutability of borders – despite the demise of the Soviet sparring partner.
Russia’s 2014 and 2022 invasions of Ukraine, along with China’s brazen bullying in the South China Sea, and finally the Gaza War – turned Gaza-West Bank-Lebanon-Syria war – showed that even this cornerstone of the old “world order” was failing – to the point that, today, the United States itself is calling it into question.

Once again, it would be unwise to put everything on the shoulders of Donald Trump and his rambling logorrhea. One should always keep in mind that Trump is the product of the American crisis, not its producer; he has emerged precisely because he is the mirror of a country that has lost many of its reference points, particularly its main reference point: success. For some time now, American successes have become increasingly rare, especially on the world stage. As voters massively demonstrated in November, Trump represents today’s America, which cannot be confused with yesterday’s America, simply because yesterday’s America no longer exists.

Yet, the temptation of historical comparisons remains. Indeed, Trump’s interest in Canada, Panama and Greenland has prompted some to speak of a “return to the Monroe Doctrine,” referring to President James Monroe’s 1823 proclamation that, in essence, America (understood as a continent) belonged to Americans (understood as the United States). While Monroe never explicitly made such a declaration (and in any case, his desire to keep Europeans out of the Western Hemisphere could become reality only with the help of the British fleet), the rusty and declining United States of 2025 is not the young and dynamic United States of 1823. Back then, extending dominance over the entire continent meant increasing US power; today, to actually hole up on that same continent would mean giving up on the rest of the world and thus losing what remains of the country’s power. And whereas in 1823 the British willingly lent themselves to Monroe’s game because they shared an interest in keeping the French, Spanish and Portuguese out of the American continent, today it would be hard to find anyone who would lend themselves to Trump’s game – if game there is, of course.

Besides, the United States is no longer that “island” imagined in 1787 by Alexander Hamilton and described a hundred years later, in 1890, by Admiral Alfred Mahan: the American republic, Mahan explained, was like an island because it was defended to the west and east by two oceans, and to the north and south by two countries – Canada and Mexico – too weak to pose a threat, but strong enough to serve as buffer states.

While not a perfect comparison (as historical comparisons rarely are), it might be better to recall Germany’s attempt in 1917 to push Mexico into war with the United States by promising it the return of territories lost to the US in 1846-1848 should the Central Empires prevail. In that case, Mexico was no longer an asset to the United States, as Mahan had written, but a threat; and indeed, Berlin’s clumsy maneuver helped precipitate Washington’s entry into World War I.

In 1917, the United States risked losing its “island” status; today it is gone for good. Not only have the oceans become narrower by virtue of new military technologies, but not even the northern and southern borders are as secure as they once were. Not because of the flow of immigrants or fentanyl, but because the international political clout of the United States has diminished, and with it the country’s ability to hold the rest of the continent in its sphere of influence.

For now, of course, both Canada and Mexico remain strictly linked to the American big brother. But how long will this last? South of Mexico, the continent is sliding more and more toward China: as a just-released (January 7) Council on Foreign Relations paper points out, “China currently ranks as South America’s top trading partner and the second largest for Latin America as a whole, after the United States.” In 2024 alone, the CFR continues, Beijing has signed free trade agreements with Chile, Costa Rica, Ecuador, Nicaragua and Peru, and so far, twenty-two countries in the region have joined the Belt and Road Initiative, China’s major foreign investment program, with Colombia on the waiting list.

For Washington, keeping control of this growing movement of “alien” goods and capital to the old Latin American “backyard” becomes increasingly crucial; hence, the growing focus on the Panama Canal – whose construction, according to Alfred Mahan, obliged the United States, as an inevitable consequence, to conquer the oceans.

A not-too-distant tomorrow may bring up the possibility that Mexico and Canada, too, will surrender before the attraction of Chinese capital and goods, or that Mexico and Canada, too, will succumb to the temptation to join the chorus of those countries that, playing the “Global South” card, want to signal to Washington that they are no longer willing to passively submit to US imperial arrogance. And this Washington could not tolerate, just as it did not tolerate German interference in 1917.

In any case, Trump is sowing hostility among his neighbors; and the whimsical stunt of wanting to rename the Gulf of Mexico as the “Gulf of America” gratuitously throws salt in the wounds. As happens whenever one needlessly creates enemies, all this threatening – right, left, and center – could have just the opposite of the intended effect, by accelerating Canada and Mexico’s slide toward new shores, as far as possible from the heavy breath of the United States breathing down on their necks.

The Economist of January 2 puts forward the idea that Canada “join the European Union.” Beyond the “serious” motives for doing so (lots of raw materials and a low population on the one side, large population and scarce raw materials on the other), one can view it as a jest in response to another jest – that is, unless London’s pro-European circles want to offer Ottawa a lifeline, however flimsy, so as not to leave Canada alone when the alternative is between getting eaten by Beijing and getting eaten by Washington.

And, why not? To play the same card against Washington when, in the not so distant future, Washington will no longer be able to react as it did in 1917.