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Donna Loring is a Penobscot Nation Tribal Elder. She formerly served as a Penobscot Nation tribal representative to the Maine Legislature and advisor to Gov. Angus King and Gov. Janet Mills.
What is happening? We didn’t see this coming, or did we?
The symbolism of Oval Office portraits under various administrations tells a story of power, expansion, and the justification of conquest. When President Donald Trump last month again placed Andrew Jackson’s portrait prominently in the White House, it was no coincidence.
Jackson, an architect of Indian Removal, represented a strongman vision of governance — one that prioritized territorial expansion at the cost of Indigenous lives. His legacy, built on the forced displacement of Native peoples, found resonance in Trump’s own policies, particularly his approach to territorial disputes and expansionist ambitions abroad. Behind them both looms the ever-present figure of George Washington, whose nation-building efforts also set the precedent for land acquisition through war, displacement, and treaties that overwhelmingly benefited the settlers over the Indigenous inhabitants leaving the Indigenous People with deep “soul wounds.”
The American experiment has long been haunted by the specter of expansionism — driven by an ideology that cloaks itself in righteousness while leaving a trail of displacement, destruction, and suffering. From Washington’s early campaigns against Native nations to Jackson’s Indian Removal policies and Trump’s territorial ambitions, a common thread emerges: a belief that land is there for the taking, that those who resist are obstacles rather than people, and that power justifies its own excesses.
Today, as the world watches proposals for Gaza post-war, we see these same patterns re-emerge. The language of security, prosperity, and destiny is once again being wielded as a weapon, justifying the forced removal of a people in the name of strategic gain.
George Washington, hailed as the father of the nation, set the precedent for American expansionism through military campaigns against Native nations and policies that prioritized settler interests. His administration oversaw treaties that pushed Indigenous peoples further west, laying the foundation for the doctrine of territorial expansion that would define American policy for centuries. Though framed as necessary for national security and development, these actions initiated a pattern of forced displacement that would be carried forward by his successors.
Jackson’s Indian Removal Act of 1830 was framed as a benevolent policy, one meant to protect Native American nations from encroaching settlers by relocating them westward. In reality, it was a calculated effort to erase Indigenous presence from valuable lands, paving the way for white expansion under the banner of Manifest Destiny. The Trail of Tears that followed was not just a logistical maneuver; it was an act of ethnic cleansing, carried out with cold bureaucratic precision, reinforced by military force, and justified by a narrative of progress.
Donald Trump’s vision for expansionism took a more economic and political form, rooted in nationalist rhetoric. His stance on Israel, and support for settlements in the West Bank, signaled an endorsement of expansionist policies that disregarded Palestinian sovereignty. The ideology of dominance — whether in America’s historical treatment of Native tribes or in Israel’s approach to occupied territories — relies on dehumanizing the displaced and erasing their history from the land they have called home for generations.
Now, Trump has put forth his proposal for a reconfigured Gaza into a beautiful resort by the sea, “a Riviera of the Middle East” in the wake of devastating war. This ludicrous idea is a reminder that the notion that a people can be forcibly removed, their land reshaped by an occupying force, and their resistance branded as illegitimate is not new.
It is the same logic that drove Washington to force Native nations into unfavorable treaties, Jackson to seize Cherokee land, Maine to make illegal treaties and Trump to promote unilateral power grabs. In each case, the displaced are expected to accept their fate as progress marches on.
The past reminds us that expansionism, when unchecked, leads only to cycles of resistance and repression. The wounds of forced removal do not fade — they fester and become “soul wounds.” For Native people, the loss of land was not just a loss of territory but a disconnection from identity, from ancestors, from the spiritual and cultural fabric that defined their existence.
It is said the Palestinians are the Indians of the Middle East. They face a similar wound, their struggle tied not only to land but to the right to exist as a people with dignity, history, and self-determination.
If history has taught us anything, it is that might does not make right. The forced displacement of any people, whether by decree, economic coercion, or military force, will always cause deep soul wounds lasting for generations.
We must not allow history to keep repeating itself. The American people and Congress have a moral responsibility to stand against this cycle of destruction and displacement both at home and abroad. It is not enough to observe and lament — we must act. We must demand an end to colonial policies that perpetuate territorial expansion and work toward a just resolution that respects the dignity and sovereignty of all people over the value of real estate. The time to stop this madness is now.