Though by far not the last annexation or intervention in the history of American imperium, the current state of affairs has echoes in the major territorial acquisition by the United States: faced with an increasingly polarised world vying for newly accessible sea routes and scarce natural resources, America sets its sites on a strategically located island under the control of the Kingdom of Denmark over reasons of national security and economic interests, with threats of taking it by force after Copenhagen refused the offer. Denmark eventually makes the trade, finalised in 1917, with the Danish West Indies becoming the US Virgin Islands, US president Woodrow Wilson (previously) keen to maintain a foothold in the Caribbean, for fear it be invaded by Germany and used as a base to stop shipping in the then recently opened Panama Canal. A century later, Trump is revisiting the idea with proclamations that, “for purposes of national security and freedom throughout the world, the United States of America feels that ownership and control of Greenland is an absolute necessity,” not ruling out economic pressure and the use of force to take it militarily. Not discounting the doctrine of settled borders or the incoming president is lobbing threats at fellow members of the NATO alliance, return to an age of empire negates America’s argument for aid to Ukraine—or Taiwan or how its enablers should put their foot down over Israeli incursions in Palestine—and privileges the same pretext of national security (for access to the Black Sea) that Russia used for its invasion over state sovereignty, and boosts the chances of it happening to America itself. This is what one gets for re-electing a not very smart or terribly successful real estate developer. None of the indigenous populations deserve to be made pawns in this redux of the Great Game and would likely not get a voice in the matter, but Russia could take back Alaska, using the same arguments and resort to the fallback of whataboutism, and claim the US is underusing the peninsula’s potential—or for the remnants of the British Empire, like las Islas Malvinas,
Diego Garcia or Gibraltar. More from Vox contributor Joshua Keating at the link above.
Sunday, 12 January 2025
let’s play twister, let’s play risk (12. 170)
Wednesday, 7 July 2021
quasi-guerre
On this day in 1798, the United States Congress re-established the new country’s naval and marine forces and authorised the use of deadly force against France, by proxy for the most part in colonies in the Caribbean, which America had agreed to help protect from the British and the Dutch in perpetuity in gratitude for French assistance in securing independence. Against the backdrop of France’s own revolution, there was theoretical public support for the republican cause and political reform for their ally domestically but practically, America preferred to maintain a neutral stance that would allow the northern industrial states to continue trade with Britain which would otherwise be subject to embargo (see also) and the southern agricultural states did not care for the message that France was sending with ending the institution of chattel slavery. Negotiations fell apart—in what’s known as the XYZ Affair—and the US stopped payments on loans to France that had been used to finance their revolt and French privateers began to seize merchant vessels in American waters in retaliation. With minimal casualties but considerable American resources expropriated and lasting loss of export revenue, there was a cessation to the violence with the Convention of 1800 (the Treaty of Mortefontaine) status quo ante bellum.