On January 20, 2025, Donald J. Trump took the oath of office for the second time, returning to the presidency after a dramatic and contentious election season. His supporters saw it as a triumphant comeback, a vindication of his vision for America, and a rejection of the political establishment that had opposed him at every turn. His critics, on the other hand, viewed it as a sign of deeper divisions in the country, an indicator that the populist and nationalist movements he championed had only grown stronger in the years since his first term. His speech, as expected, was filled with bold promises, patriotic fervor, and unapologetic rhetoric about restoring American greatness. But one of the most noticeable aspects of the speech, to an individual of Indigenous heritage, was the reiteration of the mythology surrounding westward expansion and the perceived settlement of the American continent.

This particular moment in Trump’s speech came when he spoke about the spirit of American perseverance, a theme that had been central to his previous campaigns. Seeking to inspire, in his mind, a sense of national pride, he described the early Euro-American settlers as those who traveled vast distances to build a new civilization, pushing westward through what he called “a rugged land of untamed wilderness.” He would then further imply that these same settlers had also gone on to have “won the Wild West.” To many who are knowledgeable with Indigenous Peoples’ place in American history, including myself, this statement directly contradicted the undeniable fact that Indigenous peoples had inhabited, built civilizations, flourished, and governed these lands for thousands of years before European settlers arrived. The idea presented by Trump that America had been an “untamed wilderness” before colonization and that the Wild West was “won” perpetuates the long-standing myths that Indigenous societies were primitive or nonexistent, an argument often used to justify their displacement and mistreatment throughout history.

The westward expansion of the United States was not simply a story of settlers forging a new life in uncharted territory. Instead, it was a process marked by violent conflicts, forced removals, broken treaties, and systematic efforts to dismantle Indigenous cultures. The notion of “winning” the West also implies a contest in which one side—the settlers—emerged victorious. However, for Indigenous nations, this so-called victory meant dispossession, suffering, and near destruction of their way of life. The ideology of Manifest Destiny—the belief that Americans were destined to expand across the continent—fueled the rapid seizure of Indigenous lands, often under the guise of legal agreements that were later violated. Even beyond physical conflict, U.S. policies aimed to erase Indigenous cultures through assimilation efforts. The establishment of boarding schools sought to strip Indigenous children of their languages, traditions, and identities, forcing them to adopt Euro-American ways of life. The Dawes Act of 1887 further dismantled communal land ownership among tribes, dividing Indigenous lands into individual plots and selling off “surplus” land to settlers. These efforts were not merely about territorial conquest but about reshaping Indigenous societies in ways that served the interests of the expanding United States.

This instance in his speech serves as another example of historical erasure, perpetuating a Eurocentric narrative that overlooks the profound and enduring presence of Indigenous civilizations. The historical evidence against his statement is simply overwhelming. One can point to the intricate societies that flourished long before European colonization—the sophisticated agricultural practices of the Mississippian peoples, the extensive trade networks of the Ancestral Puebloans, and the sophisticated governance systems of the Iroquois Confederacy, which even influenced the structure of the U.S. Constitution, among many other examples not mentioned here. Provided these examples and more, the term “untamed wilderness” is factually and utterly inaccurate and disregards the invaluable contributions of Indigenous nations who had diligently cared and have been stewards for the land for millennia. Trump’s words again echoed a long-standing tradition of American political rhetoric that portrayed the country’s expansion as a noble and inevitable march of progress, while simultaneously downplaying the displacement and suffering of those who had inhabited the land first.

Perhaps the more significant issue surrounding Trump’s speech highlights a broader and enduring debate about how American history is remembered and imparted to the American public. For many conservatives, the idea of Manifest Destiny and westward expansion is a source of national pride, a story of courage and resilience in the face of adversity. The perceived “conquering” of a continent is often praised and they view the settlers as heroes who tamed a wild land and built a great civilization on top of it. But for Indigenous peoples and their allies, this narrative ignores the violence and cultural destruction that accompanied that expansion. The displacement of Indigenous communities, the massacres at places like Sand Creek and Wounded Knee, and the systemic efforts to erase Indigenous cultures through boarding schools and assimilation policies are all part of the story that is often left out of the mainstream American narrative. Trump’s speech disregards and overrides the crucial role of Indigenous people in shaping the narrative of America. This once again highlights the political cowardice of those who refuse to acknowledge the intricate and contradictory aspects of the American historicity.

Such historical ignorance can have devastating consequences in the present. The Trump administration’s push for territorial expansion into Canada and Greenland, along with the renaming of historically significant regions of Mexico—such as the proposed shift from the Gulf of Mexico to the “Gulf of America”—also echoes the ideology of Manifest Destiny. Just as Indigenous nations were pushed aside in the name of progress and national interest, the modern pursuit of expansion disregards the sovereignty and historical identity of other nations, imposing an American-centric narrative on regions with deep-rooted histories of their own. The parallels are striking: both then and now, expansionism is framed as an inherent right rather than an aggressive overreach, ignoring the cultural, political, and human costs of such ambitions. If history is any guide, these actions risk repeating the consequences of American imperialism, increasing diplomatic tensions and reinforcing patterns of domination under the guise of American national interest.

As Trump’s second term begins, the elements of his inauguration speech erasing Indigenous participation is unlikely to fade quickly in the minds of those knowledgeable of American history. It’s evident that the ongoing debate about America’s past, its treatment of Indigenous peoples, and the way history is presented in public discourse is far from settled. But the debate over history is not just about the past; it shapes policy, identity, and the future of the nation. As the country moves forward under Trump’s leadership, the question remains: Will there be a political effort to acknowledge and address these historical wounds, or will willful ignorance of our true history as a nation continue to be perpetrated? A more comprehensive understanding of this history reveals that westward expansion was not a triumphant, unilateral victory but a multifaceted and frequently tragic process that profoundly transformed the lives of millions of Native Americans, and in essence, the settlers as well. If we are to narrate the history of America, it is crucial to include Indigenous people and acknowledge their enduring contributions to that story. Our inclusion in the American narrative is crucial to understanding the complete and intricate story of this nation, impacting both its past and future.

Miguel Douglas

Miguel Douglas is the executive director of American Indian Republic and is an enrolled member of the Puyallup Tribe of Indians. He has written extensively on Indian gaming and its effects on American Indian communities. He has received a Master’s Degree in Interdisciplinary Studies from the University of Washington.