Territorial Expansion—and Its Naysayers—Are as Old as America

The last time the United States expanded its territory—gaining the Northern Marianas and some other Pacific islands—President Donald Trump was just a year old. The fact that so much time has passed makes it easy for critics to dismiss Trump’s recent statements about Greenland and the Panama Canal as outlandish. Looking at the full scope of our 248-year history as a country, however, it is clear that territorial expansion has been an integral and celebrated part of the American story. While it may not be well known, America’s plans for growth in the past—just as today—produced no small amount of protest from the critics. 

Take America’s first great expansion, the 1803 Louisiana Purchase, for example. Striking a deal with Napoleon for only about $502 per square mile in today’s dollars, President Thomas Jefferson bought an expanse of wilderness that nearly doubled the size of the country. The Federalists, always eager to oppose Jefferson, acted out of character with their expansive view of the executive branch and argued that the constitution did not give the president the express right to acquire new territory. Fisher Ames, a former Federalist congressman from Massachusetts, complained, “We are to give money of which we have too little for land of which we already have too much.” Alexander Hamilton speculated that the massive territory would likely re unsettled for centuries to come. 

In the 1840s, Whigs like then-congressman Abraham Lincoln saw the Mexican–American War—which eventually won the nation territory comprising all or part of eight of today’s 50 states—as an unnecessary act of land-grabbing aggression. They argued the war served as a pretext on the part of southerners like President James Polk to add new slave states in the southwest. As John Quincy Adams put it, it was a ploy to find “bigger pens to cram with slaves.” In 1847, the Whig-controlled House denounced Polk for the war in a censure vote.

The most memorable instance of opposition comes from the 1867 purchase of Alaska from Russia, an initiative of Lincoln’s secretary of state, William Seward. Russia, which had little control over the territory and needed to pay off its Crimean War debts, was eager to sell to anyone but its rival Great Britain. It even considered a deal with tiny Liechtenstein. Some senators, unaware of Alaska’s bounties of gold and oil, regarded the expenditure of $153.5 million in today’s dollars as “reckless and wasteful.” Politicians and journalists famously ridiculed it as “Seward’s folly,” a frivolous purchase of what they called “empty tundra,” a “polar bear garden,” and an “icebox.”

The turn-of-the-century acquisition of Hawaii and spoils of the Spanish–American War like Puerto Rico and the Philippines spurred a significant anti-imperialist movement. It gained major backers like the three-time presidential nominee William Jennings Bryan and the writer Mark Twain. The latter suggested the US begin flying a flag with skulls and crossbones in place of the stars. Anti-imperialists warned that owning colonies would lead the U.S. to eventually abandon the principles of self-government laid out in the Declaration of Independence.

If Trump manages to purchase Greenland, it would not be the first time the United States acquired land from Denmark. During the First World War, the United States became very concerned that Germany would invade Denmark and use the Danish West Indies – now the U.S. Virgin Islands – as a base to launch submarine attacks. The 1917 deal costing $660 million in today’s dollars was only struck after the United States, frustrated by neutral Denmark’s resistance, suggested it would be willing to take matters into its own hands and occupy the islands. Ninety-nine percent of the islands’ population supported the sale. Support was high in the U.S., as well. When William Seward had floated the idea of purchasing the islands in 1867, though, it failed to receive the support the Alaska plan did. The Senate rejected it despite the fact that Denmark had approved. Some critics argued it was a frivolous adventure at a time when America needed to attend to the more serious issues of Reconstruction. Like the turn-of-the-century anti-imperialists, others saw acquiring a colony to be contrary to the spirit of the American Revolution.

As Americans begin to discuss territorial growth in a serious way for the first time in nearly a century, it is worth remembering the great good that expansion has brought us throughout history. California, Alaska, the Mississippi River, and the Rocky Mountains are cherished, integral parts of America. It is hard to imagine America in the 21st century without them. The idea of relinquishing them is unthinkable.

This is not to say that the critiques didn’t—or don’t—have some merit. The Mexican–American War produced thorny questions about slave states that set the stage for the Civil War. The occupation of the Philippines is not generally considered a bright spot in American history. Should the new administration pursue new lands, it ought to do so in a just and well-calculated manner. But even for those who believe that Trump’s plans are likely to fail, the possibility should at least spark some excitement. Growth is in our DNA as Americans, from voyages to new continents to journeys into the Wild West to moon landings.

In today’s media landscape, the critics have the loudest voices. Should Trump succeed, though, they will likely soon become footnotes for the history nerds.