Majfud, Jorge. The Wild Frontier: 200 Years of Anglo-Saxon Fanaticism in Latin America, U.S. Edition, Humanus, 2025.
Jorge Majfud’s The Wild Frontier is a bold and fiercely intellectual account of U.S.-Latin American relations that challenges conventional historical narratives. Rather than offering a detached summary of past events, Majfud invites readers into a searing critique of the cultural, ideological, and political forces that have shaped—and often distorted—the relationship between the Anglo-Saxon North and the Latin American South. His central thesis is unapologetically critical: for over two centuries, the United States has projected an image of moral superiority while pursuing policies rooted in domination, exploitation, and racialized thinking.
Majfud’s approach is far from typical academic writing. The book reads more like an extended political essay or a philosophical reckoning, blending historical documentation with impassioned argument. He delves into major milestones in hemispheric history—beginning with the early 19th century doctrines that legitimized U.S. expansionism—and traces how these ideas have evolved but never disappeared. From the Monroe Doctrine to contemporary neoliberal economic interventions, Majfud makes a compelling case that the same logic of superiority, masked by noble rhetoric, has consistently driven foreign policy decisions in the region.
What truly distinguishes The Wild Frontier is the way it draws connections between past ideologies and current political realities. For example, Majfud explores how 19th-century notions of Manifest Destiny continue to echo in today’s border policies, economic sanctions, and international rhetoric around democracy and human rights. In his view, U.S. foreign policy is not just a series of isolated decisions but part of a larger cultural narrative that positions Anglo-Saxon civilization as a global moral compass—a notion he carefully deconstructs through historical examples and linguistic analysis.
Majfud is especially adept at analyzing the use of language as a political weapon. He argues that words like “freedom,” “development,” and “order” have been systematically used to conceal interventions that served elite interests rather than the common good. Through sharp rhetorical analysis, he shows how such terms gain moral weight while deflecting attention from the violence and dispossession they often accompany. In this sense, the book is not just about what happened, but how those events have been framed and remembered in ways that benefit dominant powers.
Alongside this critique, Majfud brings to life the resistance that has always existed in the shadows of empire. He revives the voices of key Latin American thinkers and activists—José Martí, Augusto Sandino, Eduardo Galeano, and others—who resisted imperial logic and offered alternative visions of regional identity and self-determination. These figures are not merely cited for contrast; they are given space to speak across time, their words highlighting the tension between imposed ideology and lived reality. By placing these voices in conversation with the dominant discourse, Majfud not only reclaims a suppressed intellectual tradition but also emphasizes the intellectual richness and political consciousness that has long defined Latin American resistance.
Another strength of the book is how it tackles the psychological dimension of imperialism. Majfud reflects on how entire societies can internalize myths about their own inferiority or dependency, especially when these myths are reinforced by educational systems, media narratives, and international institutions. This psychological colonization, he suggests, is just as destructive as military invasion or economic exploitation—perhaps even more so, because it can outlast the physical presence of an occupying force.
The translation by Elizabeth Horan deserves recognition as well. She manages to preserve the lyrical and combative tone of Majfud’s prose while making it accessible to English-speaking readers. The complexity of Majfud’s ideas is matched by the rhythm and texture of his language, and Horan’s translation ensures that none of that depth is lost in transition. The result is a book that is both intellectually rigorous and emotionally charged, offering a reading experience that is as moving as it is informative.
Though the book is dense with ideas and historical references, it is never dry. Majfud writes with urgency and conviction, inviting the reader not just to learn, but to reflect, question, and unlearn. The book challenges its audience to confront uncomfortable truths and to recognize how deeply history shapes our present assumptions—about progress, civilization, and justice. It is not a neutral or detached work; it is a call to awareness and, perhaps, a call to action.
For students, educators, and anyone interested in understanding the roots of Latin American political struggles and the role of U.S. foreign policy in shaping them, The Wild Frontier is an essential text. It does more than catalog a history of interventions—it reveals the ideas and ideologies that made such a history possible. Majfud’s work urges readers to rethink the moral narratives that often accompany power and to listen more closely to the voices that history has too often ignored.

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