Reclaim or Rebuild?

Reclaim or Rebuild? Washington’s Uneven Push for Regional Realignment

By Víctor Ortiz

Researcher, Instituto de Estudios Nacionales, Universidad de Panamá

President Donald Trump greets Chinese President Xi Jinping before a bilateral meeting at the Gimhae International Airport terminal, Thursday, October 30, 2025 (Official White House Photo by Daniel Torok)

In his second term, US president Donald Trump placed the “reclaiming” of the Panama Canal among the central goals of his foreign policy. But this rhetoric cannot be read in isolation. It reflects a phenomenon that runs across all of Latin America, one in which the Canal occupies a central, though not exclusive, place. This raises two questions: Is Washington seeking to reclaim a hegemony it believes it has lost, or is it reacting to the perception that its hegemony has weakened? The distinction matters. In the first reading, this is simply a new edition of an old hemispheric discourse. In the second, a great power finds itself having to actively rebuild conditions it once took for granted, in the face of old and new threats: the fight against drug trafficking, illegal migration, and China’s growing influence in the region.

The concern did not begin with Trump. Under the Biden administration, then Southern Command chief Laura Richardson already had warned that US security depended on Latin America’s stability in the face of China’s growing presence, a power that had established itself as capable of contesting an area of control Washington had held almost unchallenged for two centuries — without regional economic dependence automatically translating into political subordination. One example: under President Juan Carlos Varela, Panama became the first country in the region to join the Belt and Road Initiative, in June 2017, and to break relations with Taiwan.

With Trump’s second administration, the shift was radical. Since December 2024 he has insisted that the United States give the Canal “to Panama, not to China,” and that the US was going to “take it back.” In February 2025, after meeting with Secretary of State Marco Rubio, President José Raúl Mulino announced that Panama would not renew its memorandum of understanding with China on the Belt and Road Initiative, without going so far as to break bilateral relations. Beijing, through its foreign ministry, called the move regrettable and accused Washington of resorting to pressure.

On April 8, 2025, Panama’s Minister of Public Security, Frank Ábrego, signed a memorandum with US Secretary of Defense Pete Hegseth that restored a rotational US military presence at the former American bases of Fort Sherman, Rodman and Howard in the former Canal Zone, and guaranteed priority transit for US warships through the Canal. Mulino insisted the agreement did not compromise Panamanian sovereignty; critics, however, argued that Washington had obtained, through a technical memorandum, a fraction of what Trump had openly demanded. Panama retains legal sovereignty over the canal zone, but that sovereignty now coexists with specific operational concessions — US military access to infrastructure outside the Canal itself, framed under the umbrella of protecting it and regional security.

The dispute has also extended to the ports of Balboa and Cristóbal, operated since 1997 by Panama Ports Company (PPC), a subsidiary of the Hong Kong-based CK Hutchison group. In March 2025, CK Hutchison agreed to sell its global port business, including the Panamanian terminals, to a consortium led by the US company BlackRock. But in January 2026, Panama’s Supreme Court declared the 1997 contract-law unconstitutional, ruling that it granted disproportionate benefits to PPC; the decision was published in the Official Gazette on February 23, 2026. The outcome, however, was not a transfer of the ports to the Panamanian state: PPC was left without legal standing, and temporary administration passed to APM Terminals, a subsidiary of Denmark’s Maersk group, while the state prepares a new international tender.

Beijing’s response did not stop at the diplomatic protest of February 2025. After the Supreme Court ruling, China warned that Panama “will pay a high political and economic price” if it did not reverse the annulment of the concession. That warning translated into action: China detained 96 Panamanian-flagged vessels in March 2026 and 136 in April, 6.4 times the previous year’s average, in what the United States described as economic retaliation aimed at punishing Panama.

This episode reveals something about the nature of the “reclaiming” narrative. On March 4, 2025, before Congress, Trump presented the sale from Hutchison to BlackRock as if it constituted, in itself, the recovery of the Canal, and days later said on television that he preferred to see the asset in BlackRock’s hands rather than a Chinese company’s. Panama’s president responded that no such “recovery” had taken place: the ports do not control the Canal, since the two are run under entirely separate arrangements, with the Canal itself administered by the Panama Canal Authority (ACP). The sequence is telling: a private transaction, in which the Panamanian state was not a negotiating party, was narrated by the White House as a geostrategic victory over China. And when Panama did intervene directly on the ports front, it did not do so to hand the asset to Washington, but to annul the concession and open it to a new tender.

The Panamanian case is only one instance within this broader regional realignment. Since September 2025, Washington has sustained a military campaign in international waters against vessels accused of drug-trafficking activity in the Caribbean and the eastern Pacific, known as Operation Southern Spear, under which boats are destroyed even though doing so violates the flag state’s rights under international maritime law. In parallel, in March 2026 the “Shield of the Americas” was founded, a security and intelligence coalition that Panama joined at its inaugural summit in Doral, Florida, alongside Argentina, Ecuador, El Salvador, the Dominican Republic and Trinidad and Tobago; Peru and Colombia joined later that year.

This alignment reflects a prior structural subordination: these countries’ economies remain dependent on US trade and credit, their security forces — with the exceptions of Cuba and Nicaragua — are trained and equipped by the United States, and their political elites and economic power groups depend on staying on good terms with Washington.

Panama’s membership in the Shield adds to the 2025 memorandum and the port dispute — it does not replace them. While other governments in the hemisphere are linking themselves to Washington almost exclusively through that multilateral coalition, Panama is accumulating commitments at both levels simultaneously, the collective and the bilateral, making it the one point in the region where both layers of pressure converge on the same territory.

The evidence gathered suggests that the two readings posed at the outset are not mutually exclusive. Regional subordination is real and visible, as shown by the shift toward Washington-aligned governments across much of the hemisphere. Yet this subordination can no longer be taken for granted; it must be actively produced, through instruments ranging from security coalitions and lethal military campaigns, as in the Venezuelan case, to the simultaneous accumulation of bilateral and multilateral commitments, as in the Panamanian case.

If US hegemony were as solid today as it was in the era of the Monroe Doctrine or the Cold War, a single framework — one doctrine — would be enough to produce alignment across the region. What we observe instead is a deployment of distinct instruments, adapted to each country’s specific circumstances, at a political and legal cost that a comfortably exercised hegemony would not have to pay: allegations of possible war crimes in the naval campaign against drug trafficking, Panama’s judicial resistance that ended up annulling the concession despite US pressure, and China’s retaliation through the systematic detention of Panamanian vessels. That cost, repeated case by case, is the best evidence that Washington does not exercise the control it claims to have, but is rebuilding it — unevenly, country by country. Finally, it is worth asking whether this order will hold up regardless of who occupies the White House, as part of a consensus driven by the US national-security apparatus, one that Richardson had already flagged before Trump.

Panama: A Central American Singapore?

By Tom Long*

Singapore (left) and Panama City (right) / William Cho and Jim Nix / Flickr / Creative Commons

Singapore (left) and Panama City (right) / William Cho and Jim Nix / Flickr / Creative Commons

As a transportation hub, logistics center, and regional financial player, Panama has long been painted by investment bankers and Panamanian politicians as a potential “Singapore of Latin America,” but that vision still seems a way off.  In some respects, Panama’s story has been quite impressive.  For a decade, it has boasted GDP growth far beyond the regional average, even surpassing 10 percent in some recent years.  Unlike many of its neighbors, its dollar-based economy relies on services, not exports of commodities or low-value-added light manufacturing.  Since the 1989-1990 U.S. invasion to unseat General Manuel Noriega, the total size of the Panamanian economy has quadrupled in constant dollars.  It is also different from Singapore in important ways.  Singapore’s approach to planning and public housing might be helpful in Panama City, which has suffered traffic, environmental degradation, and inadequate housing for the poor as a consequence of poorly planned growth.

In other important ways, however, the Panama-Singapore comparison is less apt.

  • Singapore is a city, with nearly two million more people than Panama has spread across 100 times the landmass. Urban-rural divides are wide in Panama, with poor delivery of health and education services outside the cities, exacerbating inequality.  A Singapore-style strategy in Panama would leave the countryside behind – and indigenous and Afro-Caribbean populations would benefit much less.
  • Differences between the two countries in governance – for better and worse – are profound. The Panamanian people are much freer under the country’s democracy than they would be under a single-party-dominated system like Singapore’s.  In other ways, though, Panama’s governance leaves much to be desired.  Corruption is a massive problem, and watchdog groups highlight weakness in the rule of law, judicial independence, and press freedom.  Projects to expand the Panama Canal and build a capital city subway are over budget and behind schedule, and have suffered from strikes, contract disputes, and questionable bidding practices.  While it may seem easy to blame the corruption on former President Martinelli, who faces criminal charges, the problem has much deeper roots.
  • The two countries have very different policies toward education. Singapore invested, and continues to invest, heavily in world-class universities.  Panama lacks these, weakening its ability to compete globally in industries where innovation is key.  While Panama’s primary education has improved, its research and development lags.
  • A final difference is where the countries find themselves in their political and economic evolution. Singapore became independent 50 years ago, but it has been only a quarter century since Panama ended its kleptocratic, military rule.  It has been just 15 since the United States officially turned control of the canal over to Panamanian authorities.  The roots of its problems cannot be easily or quickly extirpated.

Panama’s boosters often use the comparison to highlight the areas in which Panama excels – economic growth, unique geography, and infrastructure crucial to global shipping and air transit.  The comparison might be more helpful in highlighting areas where Panama needs to improve.  These include dedicating resources to higher education and R&D, addressing inequality, rooting out corruption, and enhancing political and bureaucratic accountability.  Singaporean scholar Alan Chong argues that Singapore’s attempt to present itself as a model, global city is in part a foreign policy strategy of “virtual enlargement.”  The city-state’s wealth, reputation, and active role in international organizations allow it to “punch above its weight” in Southeast Asia and beyond.  Some chapters of Panama’s recent economic story might be the envy of neighbors with their own canal dreams, but the country will need to focus on governance and accountability if even its logistics-hub strategy is in fact going to deliver shared welfare at home and enhanced influence abroad – let alone become a Latin American equivalent of an Asian Tiger.

March 2, 2015

* Dr. Long is a visiting professor in International Relations at the Centro de Investigación y Docencia Económicas in Mexico City.  He is the author of Latin America Confronts the United States: Asymmetry and Influence, which is forthcoming with Cambridge University Press.

Panamanian President Martinelli Examined

Photo by: Congreso de la Republic del Perú via http://www.flickr.com/photos/congresoperu/4923731107/

 

Wall Street Journal columnist Mary Anastasia O’Grady on June 20 published a commentary about right-leaning Panamanian President Ricardo Martinelli that had a tone and edge that she usually reserves for leaders she suspects of being communists, populists or nationalists.  Entitled Panama’s Democracy Goes South, Ms. O’Grady documented “the warnings from a growing chorus of Panamanians that [he] is moving the country toward authoritarianism.”

Martinelli – blessed by the Obama Administration last year with a Free Trade Agreement in part based on an evaluation of Panama’s democratic institutions – is “tearing down institutions,” stacking the Supreme Court, and apparently steering government lucre to build a parliamentary coalition that made the national assembly into a rubberstamp of his agenda.  O’Grady points out that this amounts to “the erosion of Panamanian pluralism” and compares him with Venezuelan President Chávez.

This portrayal of Martinelli’s leadership is not unique – it is well documented – but official Washington’s embrace of it would be.  The authoritarian tendencies of some ALBA presidents have been well publicized and, at times, exaggerated, but rightwingers with similar tendencies often get a pass.  In this context, such comments in the Wall Street Journal are significant.  For now, no regional institution and no major democracy, including the United States, has threatened sanctions against Martinelli.  Last week, the State Department announced that some assistance to Nicaragua will be suspended because of poor progress toward achieving transparency in government budgets – precisely one of the areas where Panama has experienced egregious backsliding.  Sanctions against Martinelli, however, seem remote.  Latin American leaders at times have bridled at the double-standards of external criticism more than at the sanctions themselves.  O’Grady’s commentary challenges the State Department to send a message to the region that its “democracy promotion” agenda applies to conservatives as well as those it often categorizes as on the Left.