China's Shadow: Can the Americas Resist Beijing's Grip?

When Deputy Secretary of State Christopher Landau picked up the phone to call Canadian Deputy Foreign Minister David Morrison on April 9, 2025, the stakes couldn’t have been higher. The Western Hemisphere teeters on the edge of chaos, battered by fentanyl flooding communities, unchecked migration tearing at borders, and Haiti’s descent into a gang-ravaged nightmare. Their conversation wasn’t just diplomatic small talk; it was a desperate bid to stitch together a unified response to threats that don’t respect lines on a map.

Landau and Morrison framed their dialogue around a noble goal: a safe, secure, and prosperous region. Yet beneath the polished rhetoric lies a raw truth. Decades of neglect, half-measures, and finger-pointing have left both nations scrambling to catch up with crises that demand far more than bilateral chats. The U.S. and Canada, long bound by geography and friendship, now face a pivotal moment to redefine their partnership, not with platitudes, but with action that puts people first.

This isn’t about clinging to outdated notions of national pride or flexing muscle for the sake of it. It’s about recognizing that the fentanyl killing our kids, the families fleeing violence, and the gangs choking Haiti aren’t isolated problems. They’re interconnected failures of a system that’s too often prioritized profit and power over human lives. The path forward requires a fearless commitment to justice, equity, and cooperation, not the timid steps of the past.

Let’s start with fentanyl. Over 27,000 pounds of it were seized at U.S. borders in 2024, a number that could wipe out every American several times over. Mexico’s cartels churn it out with ruthless efficiency, fueled by precursor chemicals from China, while overdoses rip through towns from Ohio to Ontario. Advocates for public health have screamed for years about the need for treatment over punishment, yet policymakers in Washington fixate on border walls and busts, as if that’s enough to stop a plague born of despair.

Then there’s migration. Border apprehensions hit a stunning low of 300 per day in February 2025, down 94% from a year earlier, thanks to draconian executive orders. Supporters of enforcement cheer this as victory, but it’s a hollow one. Smugglers adapt faster than bureaucrats, and the root causes—violence, poverty, instability—fester unchecked in Latin America. The U.S. and Canada can’t just build higher fences; they need to invest in the region’s people, not punish them for seeking safety.

Critics argue tougher borders deter trafficking and illegal crossings. They’re wrong. History proves it: the 1986 Immigration Reform and Control Act legalized millions but did nothing to stem the tide, because it ignored why people move. Today’s crackdowns repeat that mistake, trading long-term solutions for short-term optics. Meanwhile, families die in deserts, and fentanyl keeps flowing. It’s a failure of imagination and compassion, plain and simple.

Across the hemisphere, China’s influence creeps like ivy over a crumbling wall. Beijing controls ports, energy grids, and land from Panama to Peru, locking Latin America into economic dependence. Chile sends nearly 40% of its exports to China, a stark reminder of how deep those roots run. U.S. officials fret about military outposts near the Panama Canal, but their response—scolding and sanctions—feels like yelling at the tide to turn back.

Landau and Morrison rightly flagged this as a threat, but their focus on countering ‘malign influence’ misses the bigger picture. China’s not just playing geopolitics; it’s filling a vacuum left by decades of U.S. disengagement. Since the Cold War, Beijing’s shifted from ideology to infrastructure, building roads and relationships while Washington dithered. The answer isn’t more chest-thumping; it’s outmatching China with investment that lifts people up, not locks them into debt.

Some insist China’s moves are benign, a ‘South-South’ lifeline free of strings. That’s nonsense. Dual-use ports and space stations aren’t charity; they’re leverage. The U.S. and Canada have a chance to offer something better—trade that respects sovereignty, aid that builds resilience. Anything less cedes the hemisphere to a power that’s proven it cares more about control than community.

Nowhere is the need for bold action clearer than Haiti. Gangs control 85% of Port-au-Prince, killing 1,500 in 2025 alone and displacing nearly 80,000. The government’s a shell, its police outgunned and underfunded. A UN-backed mission with Kenyan boots on the ground stumbles along, delayed by red tape while Haitians die. Landau and Morrison called it ‘grave,’ but that word barely scratches the surface of a crisis rooted in centuries of exploitation.

Haiti’s not a lost cause; it’s a test. The U.S. and Canada can’t keep outsourcing responsibility to under-resourced missions or pointing fingers at history—French colonialism, U.S. occupations, UN scandals. People there need security, yes, but also jobs, schools, hope. Advocates for humanitarian intervention argue for a Marshall Plan-style rebuild; skeptics call it naive. They’re the naive ones, thinking band-aid fixes will stop a hemorrhage.

The U.S.-Canada friendship Landau and Morrison toasted isn’t enough on its own. It’s a foundation, sure, but one cracking under the weight of fentanyl, migration, China’s reach, and Haiti’s collapse. Both nations have the tools—money, expertise, goodwill—to lead, but they’ve got to ditch the old playbook. That means funding treatment over incarceration, building stability in Latin America, outpacing China with real aid, and saving Haiti before it’s too late.

This isn’t about politics or posturing. It’s about lives lost to overdoses, families torn apart by borders, nations slipping into Beijing’s orbit, and a neighbor drowning in violence. The Western Hemisphere’s future hangs in the balance, and the U.S. and Canada can either rise together or fall apart. History won’t forgive hesitation. Neither should we.