When the U.S. expanded westward, it created territories instead of integrating lands into states. This allowed greater control but denied full rights to inhabitants.

Territories operated under federal authority, bypassing democratic norms. Settlers faced legal and political disenfranchisement. Indigenous populations were displaced without their consent or representation in these territories.

In reality, this setup created a colonial-like governance system, blurring the difference between a liberating republic and an imperial power.

This reinforced the U.S. habit of dominating new lands by sidestepping the inclusion of new populations into its democratic framework.

Consequences include inherited conflict, systemic inequalities, and displacement, especially for Indigenous people. It also laid the groundwork for how future U.S. territories would be governed.

Even in modern times, territorial arrangements like those in Puerto Rico mirror this approach. People live under federal law but are denied full democratic representation (Chapter 1).

This legacy of territories shapes the debate over U.S. expansionism, reflecting the tension between liberty and control in American history.

Understanding this colonial-style governance highlights why the U.S.’s view of expansion differs fundamentally from its myths of freedom.

The U.S. expansion into overseas territories created a contradiction: spreading democratic values while denying democracy to millions living in those territories.

People in places like the Philippines, Puerto Rico, and Guam lived under American rule but lacked the rights and representation given to mainland citizens.

This issue is significant because it exposed a fundamental hypocrisy—how can a nation champion liberty while behaving like a colonial power?

This contradiction undermined U.S. credibility and increased local resentment, sometimes fueling resistance and distrust of American intentions.

Immerwahr argues that the U.S. must grapple with this legacy. Recognizing these territories and their people as full participants in its story is critical.

The solution might involve granting greater autonomy, representation, or independence to these regions, depending on their communities' wishes.

Ignoring this issue perpetuates inequality and weakens America’s moral standing as a global advocate of freedom and democracy.

This unresolved tension highlights an identity crisis: does the U.S. prioritize being a democracy or dominating geopolitically? Both paths seem at odds (Chapter 4).

World War II reshaped American strategy. Instead of conquering land, the U.S. exerted control through logistics and military bases.

Thousands of bases worldwide allowed the U.S. to project power efficiently. Supply routes became as vital as territorial acquisitions.

This demonstrated a new model of empire-lite—extensive influence without formal colonial rule, unlike previous European empires.

After seeing the costs and resistance tied to direct colonization, the U.S. shifted to infrastructure as a means of control.

Politically, this marked a departure from traditional imperial strategies, signaling the dawn of economic and logistical dominance.

However, this also interwove local economies with American military interests, significantly affecting the nations hosting these bases.

This hybrid approach empowered the U.S. to assume a leading global role while reducing conflicts arising from formal colonization (Chapter 8).

The consequences persist today, as this network of influence remains a major tool in modern geopolitics, enabling interventions without physical occupation.

Becoming an empire forced Americans to see their nation differently. No longer just a continental entity, it now stretched across the globe.

New terms like "The Greater United States" emerged to represent this expanded reach, reflecting both pride and unease among citizens.

This change was profound because it clashed with America’s self-perception as an anti-imperial republic, rooted in equality and independence.

The experience of governing distant populations opened debates about who qualifies as American and what rights should be extended globally.

Immerwahr suggests maps should reflect this reality by including U.S. territories prominently, forcing citizens to confront the empire's extent.

Failing to do so sustains a myth that America is purely a union of equal states, erasing the roles of overlooked territories.

This lack of acknowledgment perpetuates ignorance about the responsibilities stemming from imperialism, limiting progress toward fairness.

A more honest representation of America’s geography could bridge understanding and emphasize the shared histories of all its regions (Chapter 3).

Imperialism shaped the U.S., affecting its territories and identity long after major conquests ended. Recognizing this history is essential.

Immerwahr advises individuals to educate themselves on the roles of places like Guam, Puerto Rico, and the Philippines in America’s story.

This includes understanding how federal policies impacted these regions and their ongoing struggles for equality, autonomy, or independence.

Learning this history provides perspective on the complexities of U.S. power and how its global actions affect marginalized communities.

By embracing this reality, citizens can advocate for fair policies toward territories, ensuring their voices and needs are heard.

This awareness could foster cohesion, dispelling myths of a purely mainland identity and emphasizing shared responsibilities.

Failing to confront this imperial legacy sustains inequality and limits the democratic principles America aspires to embody.

The war revealed the U.S.’s reliance on military territories like Hawaii and Alaska, turning them into key outposts and defensive hubs.

Infrastructure like the Alaska Highway showcased the strategic investments made to protect American interests during global conflict (Chapter 7).

This militarization profoundly impacted local economies, creating wartime booms but also eroding personal freedoms through surveillance and militarized zones.

It fueled the idea of America as a planetary entity whose actions extended far beyond its mainland borders.

The territories highlighted America’s strategic depth, showing how distant regions played pivotal roles in ensuring national security.

They also became central to the narrative of American sacrifice and resilience, contributing to mythologies of global leadership.

This shift supported the emergence of the U.S. as a superpower that could act across continents without traditional colonial ambitions.

However, it also entrenched inequalities within these territories, a legacy of complex power dynamics that endures today.

Imperial ambitions often prioritize power over justice, leading to colonial struggles and enduring inequalities. The U.S. is no exception.

Immerwahr emphasizes the importance of acknowledging colonial mistakes and using them as lessons to guide present and future policies.

This means ensuring representation, respecting the rights of smaller territories, and avoiding governance models rooted in exploitation.

Understanding these patterns helps prevent repeating historical injustices in military, economic, or geopolitical strategies.

Applying these lessons could foster fairer treatment of territories and guide ethical decision-making in global affairs.

Ignoring these lessons risks perpetuating the very inequalities and resistance that plagued earlier imperial endeavors.

Learning from history helps the U.S. balance its role as a power with its ideals of democracy and equality.