By Brian Teucke
Anyone reading this can say that during their lifetime, the United States has launched some form of economic or military intervention abroad. We usually hear about these actions through headlines claiming the U.S. acted to “protect U.S. interests” or “spread democracy.” These narratives make it easy to assume the United States is a “global force for good.” As Christians, we may even interpret foreign policy decisions as a kind of international charity, similar to Christ’s care for “the least of these.” Yet when we step outside mainstream narratives and revisit history more critically, a far more troubling, and decidedly un-Christian, reality emerges.
That reality is American imperialism. We are often taught that imperialism belongs to the past (the Roman or British empires), but Merriam-Webster defines it as “the policy, practice, or advocacy of extending the power and dominion of a nation… by direct territorial acquisitions or by gaining indirect control over the political or economic life of other areas.” Applied to modern history, that definition becomes uncomfortably relevant. Ever hear of Cuba? How about Maduro? In nearly every hemisphere, the United States has exercised political, military, or economic dominance that fits Webster’s description.
The Presbyterian Church (U.S.A.) has addressed foreign intervention in language that directly challenges imperialism. The church has stated that intervention “must not cloak the pursuit of economic or narrow security interests” and “should advance the general welfare of all the inhabitants… and not become a tool by which powerful elites further cement their power.” In 2016, we renounced “violence as a means to further selfish national interests, to procure wealth, or to dominate others.”
The church has also reflected on its own global engagement, particularly in mission work. The Rev. Mienda Uriarte recently called Presbyterians to “de-center ourselves… away from thinking we are primary agents, benefactors and senders,” recognizing instead that we are partners in God’s mission.
Taken together, these teachings call us to reject domination cloaked as benevolence and to de-colonize our interactions with people in other countries so that our mission work doesn’t become the religious counterpart to US imperialism.
If Presbyterians in America are to live faithfully, we must unmask both the intent and impact of U.S. imperial policy. Is “defending U.S. interests” synonymous with serving the vulnerable? Do our interventions meet the church’s own moral criteria? Are we willing to stand in solidarity with those harmed by our government’s actions?
Reconciling U.S. foreign policy with PC(USA) commitments to peace is difficult. While the full impact of American imperialism cannot be summarized in a single Citizen article, even a cursory history provides sobering evidence.
Throughout the twentieth and twenty-first centuries, U.S. policy, through wars, covert regime change, sanctions, and dominance of global finance, has reshaped societies across the globe. The wars in Vietnam, Iraq, and Afghanistan alone cost trillions of dollars and resulted in hundreds of thousands, and by some estimates over a million, deaths, along with mass displacement and ecological destruction (Agent Orange, massive carbon emissions, and pollution left by military occupations). In Central and South America, U.S.-backed coups and counterinsurgency campaigns in Guatemala, Chile, Nicaragua, and El Salvador left tens of thousands dead, uprooted Indigenous and peasant communities, and replaced democratically elected governments with right-wing regimes. And for those who complain about migrants in this country, much of the migration northward over the past half-century cannot be understood apart from the destabilization and violence, precipitated by the US government, that helped drive that displacement.
A consistent thread in many of these interventions has been this country’s obsession with overturning popularly elected socialist governments. Whether in Guatemala in 1954, Chile in 1973, Nicaragua in the 1980s, or Cuba for more than six decades, U.S. policy has often treated experiments in socialism not as political alternatives to debate, but as threats to be dismantled. Human lives and ecosystems are sacrificed in defense of capitalism and its global expansion.
Presbyterians should also consider who benefits materially from US imperialism. Since 9/11 alone, the United States has spent more than $8 trillion on wars and related military operations, while annual defense budgets now exceed $800 billion. A significant share of that spending flows to private defense contractors whose profits rise alongside global instability, and these budgets routinely pass Congress with strong bipartisan support. In the end, weapons manufactures are handed massive profits by both Democrats and Republicans, while global working people suffer.
Well, what about sanctions? Sanctions just go after the bad actors in power, right? Wrong. Economic sanctions, often described as “targeted,” have inflicted broad harm. In countries such as Cuba and Venezuela, sanctions have restricted access to medicine, financial systems, fuel, and development, disproportionately affecting civilians. Though advertised as peaceful alternatives to war, sanctions function as economic warfare, pressuring entire populations in hopes of political change. Would it surprise you to learn that sanctions are another area in which Democrats and Republicans seamlessly work together?
Meanwhile, major media outlets describe interventions as efforts to promote “freedom,” “democracy,” or “national security.” Talking heads emphasize humanitarian rescue, deterrence, or counter-terrorism, softening the language of domination. These euphemisms obscure the material costs. They rarely mention how public spending is diverted from domestic needs and is instead spent on contributing to environmental damage, global instability, and human suffering.
As people of faith, we must reflect seriously on these realities. Who has benefited from U.S. imperial policy, and who has suffered? Has our world become safer or more peaceful as a result of repeated interventions? How has imperial blowback affected our own communities through refugee resettlement, strained budgets, or veterans living with lasting physical and psychological wounds?
Is any of this necessary?
We often hear the United States described as a “Christian nation.” For Presbyterians, the more pressing question is how closely our nation’s foreign policy resembles the teachings of Christ. If our theology renounces domination and calls us to uplift the “least of these,” then we must examine whether our government’s actions reflect those convictions or contradict them.
Brian Teucke is co-chair of Worth Uniting Cayuga and an elder at Westminster Presbyterian Church in Auburn.
Anyone reading this can say that during their lifetime, the United States has launched some form of economic or military intervention abroad. We usually hear about these actions through headlines claiming the U.S. acted to “protect U.S. interests” or “spread democracy.” These narratives make it easy to assume the United States is a “global force for good.” As Christians, we may even interpret foreign policy decisions as a kind of international charity, similar to Christ’s care for “the least of these.” Yet when we step outside mainstream narratives and revisit history more critically, a far more troubling, and decidedly un-Christian, reality emerges.
That reality is American imperialism. We are often taught that imperialism belongs to the past (the Roman or British empires), but Merriam-Webster defines it as “the policy, practice, or advocacy of extending the power and dominion of a nation… by direct territorial acquisitions or by gaining indirect control over the political or economic life of other areas.” Applied to modern history, that definition becomes uncomfortably relevant. Ever hear of Cuba? How about Maduro? In nearly every hemisphere, the United States has exercised political, military, or economic dominance that fits Webster’s description.
The Presbyterian Church (U.S.A.) has addressed foreign intervention in language that directly challenges imperialism. The church has stated that intervention “must not cloak the pursuit of economic or narrow security interests” and “should advance the general welfare of all the inhabitants… and not become a tool by which powerful elites further cement their power.” In 2016, we renounced “violence as a means to further selfish national interests, to procure wealth, or to dominate others.”
The church has also reflected on its own global engagement, particularly in mission work. The Rev. Mienda Uriarte recently called Presbyterians to “de-center ourselves… away from thinking we are primary agents, benefactors and senders,” recognizing instead that we are partners in God’s mission.
Taken together, these teachings call us to reject domination cloaked as benevolence and to de-colonize our interactions with people in other countries so that our mission work doesn’t become the religious counterpart to US imperialism.
If Presbyterians in America are to live faithfully, we must unmask both the intent and impact of U.S. imperial policy. Is “defending U.S. interests” synonymous with serving the vulnerable? Do our interventions meet the church’s own moral criteria? Are we willing to stand in solidarity with those harmed by our government’s actions?
Reconciling U.S. foreign policy with PC(USA) commitments to peace is difficult. While the full impact of American imperialism cannot be summarized in a single Citizen article, even a cursory history provides sobering evidence.
Throughout the twentieth and twenty-first centuries, U.S. policy, through wars, covert regime change, sanctions, and dominance of global finance, has reshaped societies across the globe. The wars in Vietnam, Iraq, and Afghanistan alone cost trillions of dollars and resulted in hundreds of thousands, and by some estimates over a million, deaths, along with mass displacement and ecological destruction (Agent Orange, massive carbon emissions, and pollution left by military occupations). In Central and South America, U.S.-backed coups and counterinsurgency campaigns in Guatemala, Chile, Nicaragua, and El Salvador left tens of thousands dead, uprooted Indigenous and peasant communities, and replaced democratically elected governments with right-wing regimes. And for those who complain about migrants in this country, much of the migration northward over the past half-century cannot be understood apart from the destabilization and violence, precipitated by the US government, that helped drive that displacement.
A consistent thread in many of these interventions has been this country’s obsession with overturning popularly elected socialist governments. Whether in Guatemala in 1954, Chile in 1973, Nicaragua in the 1980s, or Cuba for more than six decades, U.S. policy has often treated experiments in socialism not as political alternatives to debate, but as threats to be dismantled. Human lives and ecosystems are sacrificed in defense of capitalism and its global expansion.
Presbyterians should also consider who benefits materially from US imperialism. Since 9/11 alone, the United States has spent more than $8 trillion on wars and related military operations, while annual defense budgets now exceed $800 billion. A significant share of that spending flows to private defense contractors whose profits rise alongside global instability, and these budgets routinely pass Congress with strong bipartisan support. In the end, weapons manufactures are handed massive profits by both Democrats and Republicans, while global working people suffer.
Well, what about sanctions? Sanctions just go after the bad actors in power, right? Wrong. Economic sanctions, often described as “targeted,” have inflicted broad harm. In countries such as Cuba and Venezuela, sanctions have restricted access to medicine, financial systems, fuel, and development, disproportionately affecting civilians. Though advertised as peaceful alternatives to war, sanctions function as economic warfare, pressuring entire populations in hopes of political change. Would it surprise you to learn that sanctions are another area in which Democrats and Republicans seamlessly work together?
Meanwhile, major media outlets describe interventions as efforts to promote “freedom,” “democracy,” or “national security.” Talking heads emphasize humanitarian rescue, deterrence, or counter-terrorism, softening the language of domination. These euphemisms obscure the material costs. They rarely mention how public spending is diverted from domestic needs and is instead spent on contributing to environmental damage, global instability, and human suffering.
As people of faith, we must reflect seriously on these realities. Who has benefited from U.S. imperial policy, and who has suffered? Has our world become safer or more peaceful as a result of repeated interventions? How has imperial blowback affected our own communities through refugee resettlement, strained budgets, or veterans living with lasting physical and psychological wounds?
Is any of this necessary?
We often hear the United States described as a “Christian nation.” For Presbyterians, the more pressing question is how closely our nation’s foreign policy resembles the teachings of Christ. If our theology renounces domination and calls us to uplift the “least of these,” then we must examine whether our government’s actions reflect those convictions or contradict them.
Brian Teucke is co-chair of Worth Uniting Cayuga and an elder at Westminster Presbyterian Church in Auburn.
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