The U.S. Strike on Venezuela and the Return of a Failed Latin America Policy

Early on January 3, 2026, the United States launched a direct military attack on Venezuela, striking targets in and around Caracas and carrying out a special operations raid that, according to U.S. officials, resulted in the capture of Venezuelan President Nicolás Maduro and his wife, Cilia Flores.

According to reporting from AP News, CBS, Reuters, and PBS, U.S. forces flew both out of the country, with the Trump administration saying they will face criminal charges in New York. apnews.com | cbsnews.com | reuters.com | pbs.org

President Donald Trump framed the operation as a decisive blow against “narco-terrorism,” echoing long-standing indictments brought by U.S. prosecutors years earlier. He also suggested the United States would oversee a transition of power — language that sounds less like law enforcement and more like occupation.

This moment matters not just because of what happened, but because of what it exposes: the widening gap between how the U.S. claims to apply the law and how it actually uses power.

The “Narco-Terrorism” Justification Falls Apart on Contact

The administration’s stated rationale is familiar. Maduro, U.S. officials argue, is not a legitimate head of state but a criminal — a narco-terrorist whose removal is an extension of justice, not war.

We’ve seen this argument before, and we’ve already called out its hypocrisy — see Trump’s Pardon of Juan Orlando Hernández Exposes the Truth Behind America’s “Narco-Terror” Narrative

If indictments were a legitimate basis for military invasion, the United States would be endorsing a world where powerful countries can kidnap foreign leaders by force whenever prosecutors file charges. That isn’t international law. It’s might-makes-right, dressed up in courtroom language.

Maduro has been under U.S. indictment since 2020. Nothing about those charges suddenly changed this week. What did change was the political willingness to use overwhelming force — and then retroactively justify it as law enforcement.

This is not how extradition works.
This is not how sovereignty works.
And it certainly isn’t how the U.S. treats allies accused of serious crimes.

A Clear Break with International Law — and Recent U.S. Practice

Under the U.N. Charter, the use of force against another country is prohibited except in cases of self-defense or with Security Council authorization. Neither condition has been publicly claimed here.

That’s why global reaction has been swift and largely critical.

Brazil called the strikes a violation of Venezuelan sovereignty. China, France, Mexico, and others issued condemnations or grave warnings. Even governments deeply critical of Maduro’s rule expressed alarm at the precedent being set. axios.com | time.com

The last time the U.S. openly invaded a Latin American country to seize its leader was Panama in 1989. That operation was widely criticized then — and it’s still cited today as an example of American overreach.

The fact that this administration appears comfortable reviving that model should concern anyone who believes international rules are meant to apply universally, not selectively.

Congress Was Cut Out — Again

Domestically, the legal footing is just as shaky.

There has been no new Authorization for Use of Military Force. No emergency congressional debate. No vote. Once again, the executive branch acted first and left Congress to argue afterward — a pattern we’ve documented repeatedly in past posts on emergency powers and executive overreach.

Calling this “counter-narcotics” does not magically erase the constitutional requirement for congressional authorization when U.S. forces are sent into combat.

If this action stands unchallenged, it further cements the idea that presidents can unilaterally launch wars — as long as they pick the right label.

Oil, Power, and the Parts Left Unsaid

The administration has also been unusually candid about one consequence of the attack: U.S. involvement in Venezuela’s oil sector.

Trump openly suggested that the U.S. would be “very strongly involved” in Venezuelan oil production going forward. theguardian.com

That statement alone undercuts the claim that this operation was narrowly about justice or drugs. You don’t seize a country’s energy infrastructure as a byproduct of a criminal arrest.

You do it when power — economic and geopolitical — is part of the objective.

A Return to a Discredited Hemispheric Playbook

What is happening in Venezuela is not a break from American foreign policy — it is a return to one of its worst chapters.

For much of the 20th century, the United States treated Latin America as a sphere of influence rather than a region of sovereign nations. When governments became inconvenient, they were labeled corrupt, dangerous, or illegitimate. When legal or diplomatic avenues failed, force filled the gap — often justified after the fact with claims of moral necessity.

In 1954, the CIA helped overthrow Guatemala’s elected government under the pretense of stopping communism, protecting U.S. corporate interests in the process. In Chile in 1973, U.S. backing helped clear the path for a military coup that replaced a democratic government with a dictatorship. In Panama in 1989, the U.S. invaded to arrest Manuel Noriega on drug charges, insisting it was law enforcement rather than war, despite heavy civilian casualties and long-term destabilization.

Each intervention was framed as exceptional. Each was described as unavoidable. And each was later recognized as a failure — morally, legally, or both.

The Venezuela operation fits that pattern cleanly.

Labeling Maduro a narco-terrorist does not meaningfully distinguish this action from earlier interventions that were justified with different language but the same underlying logic: U.S. power overrides sovereignty when the outcome is deemed important enough.

That logic corrodes the very international norms the United States claims to defend. It also reinforces a message Latin America has heard before — that elections, borders, and self-determination are conditional, subject to revocation when they conflict with U.S. interests.

History is clear about where this path leads. These interventions do not bring stability or democracy. They produce resentment, instability, and cycles of political violence that last long after American attention moves on.

If the United States is serious about a rules-based international order, it cannot resurrect the Monroe Doctrine mindset under modern branding and expect a different result. Venezuela is not an isolated incident. It is a reminder of how easily old habits return when power goes unchecked.