On Monday, I had the privilege of testifying before the Texas Senate in favor of two bold legislative measures: Senate Bill 1717 (SB 1717) and Senate Joint Resolution 63 (SJR 63), both introduced by Republican Sen. Mayes Middleton of Galveston. These bills strike “Gulf of Mexico” from Texas statutes and the Texas Constitution, replacing it with “Gulf of America.”
It’s a practical and patriotic move. Texas, with its rugged independence and 367 miles of coastline, is the perfect state to lead the charge. Add to this Sen. Donna Campbell’s SB 1410, and you’ve got a Lone Star trifecta of common sense.
Let’s start with the why. The “Gulf of Mexico” is a dusty relic of Spanish colonialism, a name slapped on maps by conquistadors like Hernán Cortés after they toppled the Aztecs in 1521. Sure, it stuck — Giovanni Battista Ramusio etched it into cartographic history by 1554 — but that was half a millennium ago. Since then, the United States, and Texas in particular, has transformed this watery expanse into an economic juggernaut. Why should we keep a moniker tied to a faded empire when America’s imprint is what matters now?
President Donald J. Trump got it right on Jan. 20, when he signed Executive Order 14172, rechristening the U.S. Continental Shelf portion of this gulf as the “Gulf of America.” In his Feb. 9 proclamation for the first “Gulf of America Day,” Trump nailed it: “This area has long been an integral asset to our once burgeoning Nation and has remained an indelible part of America.” He’s not wrong. From the moment Texas joined the Union in 1845, this gulf has been less about Mexico’s past and more about America’s future. Texas aligning its laws with this federal push isn’t just symbolic — it’s a recognition of reality.
The numbers back it up. The Gulf of America is an economic powerhouse, and the U.S. dominates it. In 2023, trade through Gulf Coast ports like Houston, New Orleans, and Mobile clocked in at $550 billion. Think oil, petrochemicals, and manufactured goods. Compare that to Mexico’s east coast ports — Altamira, Tampico, Tuxpan, Coatzacoalcos — which together generated $157.5 billion in trade. That’s right: U.S. Gulf trade is 3.5 times bigger. The Gulf isn’t Mexico’s lifeline — it’s America’s.
Then there’s the Exclusive Economic Zone (EEZ), where nations stake their claims under international law. The U.S. controls 268,341 square miles of the Gulf, or 45 percent of its total area. Mexico edges us out slightly with 285,716 square miles (48 percent), while Cuba trails at 31,394 square miles. The rest? Unclaimed “doughnut holes” in international waters. Point is, no one controls an absolute majority, but America’s stake is massive, and Texas, with its sprawling coast, anchors that claim. Calling it the “Gulf of America” isn’t arrogance; it’s arithmetic.
History offers precedent aplenty. Nations rename geography all the time to reflect power and identity. The Falklands are the Malvinas to Argentina. The Persian Gulf morphs into the Arabian Gulf depending on who’s talking. South Korea pushes “East Sea” over Japan’s “Sea of Japan.” Even the English Channel becomes “La Manche” across the channel. With over 100 such dual-name disputes worldwide, Texas tweaking “Gulf of Mexico” to “Gulf of America” to conform with federal orders is hardly radical. It’s routine.
SB 1717 and SJR 63 are straightforward. The bill swaps out the old name in Texas statutes, launching the “Gulf of America Statutory Language Initiative” to ensure every new law reflects the change. The resolution tees up a constitutional amendment for voters on Nov. 4, 2025.
Together, they’re a one-two punch to modernize Texas law and sync it with Trump’s vision.
Critics will cry foul, citing “tradition.” Let them. Tradition didn’t stop us from taming the frontier or drilling the oil that powers the world. The Gulf of America isn’t just a body of water; it’s a testament to American ingenuity, Texas tenacity, and the free market’s triumph.
This isn’t about erasing history; it’s about writing the next chapter. The Gulf of America reflects who we are today: a nation that commands its destiny, not one shackled to a 16th-century map. Let’s rename this gulf for the country, and the state, that made it great. America’s waiting.
