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FEW infrastructures embody the intersection of geopolitics, engineering, and human cost quite like the Panama Canal. Forged by imperial ambition and upheld through relentless exploitation, the canal’s history serves as a reminder of sovereignty traded for strategic advantage. From its tumultuous construction under American control to its eventual reclamation by Panama, the canal’s legacy weaves a narrative of endurance and defiance. Today, Donald Trump’s hyperbolic threats to ‘reclaim’ the canal, laced with conspiracy theories about Chinese influence, evoke echoes of an imperialist past.

Before the Panama Canal, ships navigating between the Atlantic and Pacific Oceans faced the daunting task of rounding Cape Horn — a perilous journey spanning thousands of miles. The French attempted to cut through Panama in the 1880s but failed spectacularly, undone by engineering challenges and diseases such as malaria and yellow fever. This episode, immortalised in David McCullough’s The Path Between the Seas, paved the way for the United States. Under President Theodore Roosevelt, the canal’s completion in 1914 marked an engineering triumph. However, it is critical to eschew romanticising this achievement. The canal’s construction claimed about 5,600 lives, mostly Black labourers from the Caribbean who endured gruelling conditions and rampant disease. These workers were, quite literally, the backbone of this global conduit. The sacrifice recalls the brutal exploitation portrayed in There Will Be Blood, where labour fuels the ambitions of the powerful. In Panama’s case, the canal symbolised US global trade dominance.

The geopolitical implications of the canal were equally transformative. In 1903, Panama was carved out of Colombia, with significant US assistance in a rebellion that ensured control over the strategic land. Roosevelt’s declaration — ‘I took the Canal Zone and let Congress debate’ — epitomised unabashed imperialism. This backdrop lends context to Trump’s bluster, echoing the same arrogance that underpinned the canal’s origins.

By the mid-20th century, Panama’s dissatisfaction with US control culminated in protests and violence. The 1964 riots, which claimed 21 Panamanian lives, mirrored broader conflicts where American intervention clashed with Latin American sovereignty. The eventual 1977 treaty brokered by President Jimmy Carter to return the canal to Panama marked a significant milestone. Critics, including Ronald Reagan, decried this move as a ‘giveaway,’ rhetoric that Trump mirrors today, which reflects America’s deep-seated narrative of entitlement.

In recent years, Trump has reignited debate over the canal with his characteristic blend of hyperbole and misinformation. Complaining about ‘extremely high’ tolls charged by the Panama Canal Authority, Trump casts the US as a victim of exploitation. His grievances, however, fail to account for basic economics. As Panamanian President José Raúl Mulino succinctly noted, the tolls are not arbitrary but reflect the canal’s immense operational costs and its vital role in global trade.

Trump’s second accusation — that China is covertly taking over the canal—adds a conspiratorial twist. While it’s true that Panama’s alignment with Beijing after severing ties with Taiwan in 2017 has expanded Chinese influence in the region, there’s no evidence to suggest direct control over the canal. This claim fits neatly into Trump’s broader strategy of portraying China as the antagonist in his narrative of American victimhood.

It’s almost too perfect a plotline for House of Cards: a demagogue stirs nationalistic fervour by concocting external threats, distracting from domestic failures. Trump’s rhetoric — charging Panama with betrayal despite America’s supposed ‘extraordinary generosity’ — ignores the brutal history of US exploitation in the region.

One must revisit the 1989 US invasion of Panama to fully appreciate the absurdity of Trump’s claims. Dubbed ‘Operation Just Cause,’ this military action — ostensibly to depose dictator Manuel Noriega — left neighbourhoods like El Chorillo in ruins. Civilians were killed, and the invasion’s human cost bore unsettling similarities to the collateral damage depicted in war films like Full Metal Jacket. The US didn’t just remove Noriega; it left a legacy of destruction that belied any notion of ‘generosity.’

For Panamanians, the canal is more than an economic lifeline; it is a symbol of hard-won sovereignty. Streets in Panama City bear names like Martyrs’ Avenue, commemorating those who resisted American dominance. President José Raúl Mulino’s declaration that Panama’s sovereignty is ‘not negotiable’ reflects this sentiment.

The real challenges facing the canal today stem not from geopolitical intrigue but from climate change. It’s a scenario reminiscent of Don’t Look Up, where humanity’s inability to address systemic challenges exacerbates crises. Severe droughts have lowered water levels, prompting restrictions on shipping and increased tolls. The canal’s 2016 expansion, designed for larger vessels, now grapples with unforeseen environmental constraints — a stark reminder of humanity’s failure to address systemic crises.

Trump’s threats to ‘take back’ the Panama Canal evoke the hubris of an emperor demanding tribute from a province. It’s the kind of plot twist you’d expect in Veep, with its caricature of inept politicians navigating global crises with comical incompetence. Trump’s claim of Chinese soldiers manning the canal is as absurd as The Simpsons’ infamous ‘steamed hams’ scene — a convoluted tale that falls apart under the slightest scrutiny.

What’s particularly striking is the juxtaposition of Trump’s supposed concern for American taxpayers with his own business history in Panama. His Trump Ocean Club — linked to drug trafficking and financial improprieties — is a symbol of how wealth often flourishes in the shadow of corruption. Yet, Trump’s moral outrage over tolls rings hollow in light of his personal entanglements.

For Panama, the canal represents not just economic lifeblood but national pride. President Mulino’s declaration that Panama’s sovereignty is ‘not negotiable’ reflects a hard-earned independence. While Trump’s rhetoric may appeal to his base, it’s unlikely to resonate with Panamanians who remember the long shadow of US intervention.

The Panama Canal’s history serves as a cautionary tale about the costs of imperialism and the necessity of respecting sovereignty. It is a story that should prompt introspection, not empty bravado. Rather than threatening Panama, the United States would be better served addressing the global challenges — such as climate change — that threaten the canal’s future.

As for Trump, his threats reflect more about his performative nationalism than any true concern for America’s interests. The canal’s story is one of resilience and resistance, a reminder that even the mightiest powers cannot forever dictate the course of history.Ìý

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H M Nazmul Alam is a lecturer in English and Modern Languages at the International University of Business, Agriculture and Technology.