Ernest R. May’s The Making of the Monroe Doctrine (1975) is a classic in historical interpretation, exploring not merely the famous and enduring foreign policy proclamation of 1823 but the domestic political crucible from which it emerged. Across 300-some well-researched pages, May reframes the Monroe Doctrine not as an inevitable ideological pronouncement, but rather as a calculated tool of domestic maneuvering and presidential politics, molded by the peculiarities of its moment. What at first appears to be a gleaming declaration of hemispheric sovereignty emerges as a clever product of presidential campaigning.
May identifies three conventional hypotheses underpinning interpretations of the Doctrine’s origins: the role of individual policymakers’ conceptions of “national interest,” international pressures, and domestic politics. While the first two set the context, it is the third – domestic political jockeying – that May insists is “the real key” to understanding how the Monroe Doctrine took shape.
May’s central thesis is disarmingly simple: the Monroe Doctrine cannot be understood apart from the fierce domestic contest unfolding in 1823 and 1824. With the presidential election looming in an unusual era lacking organized parties or formal nomination processes, foreign policy became a strategic weapon in the candidates’ struggle for advantage. In this sense, The Making of the Monroe Doctrine is less about geopolitics or ideology than about the rough-and-tumble of American domestic politics.
By 1823, James Monroe’s presidency was winding down and the 1824 election was already taking shape. With the Federalists discredited after the Hartford Convention of 1814 and effectively defunct, the once-unified Democratic-Republican Party had splintered into rival regional and factional camps. What distinguishes May’s study is its granular reconstruction of the domestic political landscape. The leading contenders to succeed Monroe were Secretary of State John Quincy Adams, Treasury Secretary William H. Crawford, War Secretary John C. Calhoun, Speaker of the House Henry Clay, and war hero–turned–Senator Andrew Jackson. Each sought to cast himself as Monroe’s rightful heir, using foreign policy as a stage to project statesmanship and distinguish himself from his rivals.
Meanwhile, across the country there was popular sympathy for the independence movements in Latin America. Americans saw the revolutions in Spanish America as parallel to their own in 1776. However, enthusiasm was uneven. Merchants in New England worried about stability and trade; Westerners and Southerners were more excited by the idea of a hemisphere free from European control. A candidate could tap into this public sentiment by sounding bold and protective of the hemisphere – without actually committing the U.S. to costly wars. Thus, the Monroe Doctrine becomes not an ethereal policy pronouncement, but the outcome of political theater staged nearly a year before election day.
The author supports this thesis by demonstrating the striking absence of influential public interest groups or press campaigns pushing for a doctrine. With interest groups effectively sidelined, the power to shape foreign policy lay directly in the hands of presidential aspirants and their circle – making the Doctrine both a shield and a weapon in domestic political combat. May does not entirely dismiss the international dimension. He provides a careful overview of European politics – especially the roles of Great Britain, France, and Russia – as framing forces. But even here, foreign policy serves as background, not the driver. The Doctrine becomes a performance staged against a backdrop of European rivalry, rather than in response to it.
The foreign policy chessboard that emerged was a three way contest between Adams, Crawford and Clay. John Quincy Adams saw a chance to cast himself as the guardian of U.S. independence and hemispheric autonomy. He wanted to seize the initiative before Britain could set the terms by offering a joint Anglo-American declaration. His basic position was that it was better for the U.S. to act alone, boldly, rather than appear subordinate to Britain, which strengthened his image as a principled nationalist, not just a stereotypically cautious New Englander beholden to British trade interests.
Treasury Secretary Crawford had strong ties to Southern interests and was more circumspect. He didn’t want to antagonize European powers unnecessarily and risk trade. For him, too bold a stance could undercut his appeal as a moderate, pragmatic choice in the upcoming presidential election.
Speaker Clay, the young, brash and outspoken War Hawk from Kentucky, had stridently advocated for the recognition of the new Latin American republics. He positioned himself as the friend of revolution and liberty, hoping to attract Western and younger voters. He wanted the U.S. to embrace its role as protector of republicanism abroad – which sounded inspiring on the stump.
Finally, Andrew “Old Hickory” Jackson was a political wild card and duelist from the backwoods of Tennessee. Though less engaged in the policy details, he stood to benefit from anything that reinforced his image as a strong, decisive leader willing to defend American honor.
By formulating a unilateral declaration – “the American continents are henceforth not to be considered as subjects for future colonization by any European powers” – Monroe and Adams created a dramatic, headline-worthy statement. For Monroe, it secured his legacy as the president who safeguarded the republic against Old World encroachments. For Adams, it showed statesmanship that looked both principled and practical, bolstering his image as presidential timber. For the broader field, it forced everyone to stake out a position on America’s role in the hemisphere, which mattered because foreign policy was one of the few areas where the federal government was visibly active in people’s lives.
May’s thesis reorients our understanding of the Monroe Doctrine. It prompts us to ask: Was the Doctrine truly a doctrine of continental policy, or primarily a political instrument? May persuasively argues for the latter. In doing so, he forces us to confront the extent to which America’s defining foreign policies are in fact shaped within chambers of domestic influence – not just by global necessity, but by local ambition.
The Making of the Monroe Doctrine is an incisive piece of historiography that transforms our understanding of one of the most quoted policies in American history. The author does not rewrite the Doctrine’s content; rather, he uncovers its political DNA. He pulls the curtain back to reveal the actors, struggles, and ambitions that produced the proclamation. It demonstrates the power of a domestic lens, reminding us that nationalist foreign policy can be as much about internal maneuvering as external threats. It is thorough and unafraid to challenge conventional wisdom.
In the end, May argues that the Monroe Doctrine was less about deterring Europe – Britain’s navy already served that purpose – than about shaping the domestic political battlefield of 1824. For Monroe’s administration, it was a nationalist triumph to showcase; for Adams, a chance to claim authorship of a bold principle and set himself apart from rivals. For others, it posed a dilemma: endorse the Doctrine and appear derivative, or oppose it and risk seeming timid in the face of European threats. In short, the Doctrine was political theater. In the fractured one-party climate of the so-called Era of Good Feelings, it compelled every leading contender to embrace a sweeping, uncompromising foreign policy stance. By declaring the Western Hemisphere off-limits to Europe, they were not primarily addressing an immediate diplomatic crisis but crafting a resonant nationalist message – one that boosted electoral ambitions in 1824 and left a lasting rhetorical legacy in American foreign policy.
In the broader sweep of U.S. foreign policy, the Monroe Doctrine endures long past its origins. Through the Roosevelt Corollary (i.e. the United States had the right to intervene in Latin American nations’ affairs to preserve stability and order if they were unable to do so themselves), the Cold War, and even Trump era rhetoric invoking hemispheric dominance against Chinese encroachment in Panama and Latin America, its language and logic have remained alive, resonant – and often repurposed. May’s analysis does not minimize that; instead, it deepens our appreciation of what those words were, politically, when they were spoken.
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