Khawar Abbas Shah
Donald Trump positioned himself in American politics as an unconventional, intervention-averse leader, openly critical of what he called the “forever wars.”
His mantra, “America First,” suggested that the United States should prioritize domestic concerns rather than polic-ing the world. Trump repeatedly claimed that he had ended eight wars during his tenure and even hinted at deserving a Nobel Peace Prize. To many Americans, this painted a vision of a restrained, peace-oriented presidency.
However, Trump’s actions toward Venezuela starkly contradicted this image. His attempts to forcibly remove President Nicolás Maduro revealed the gap between rhetoric and reality. Framing the campaign as a fight against drugs and criminal migration, Trump masked an ag-gressive policy that violated international law. The attempted overthrow of a sovereign leader would, if done by any other nation, likely be labeled terrorism or state-sponsored aggression. Yet when the US pursues similar operations, they are conveniently framed as legitimate en-forcement actions.
Critics have argued that Trump’s Venezuela policy mirrored the opportunism of previous in-terventions. Beyond the stated goal of combating drugs, Venezuela’s vast oil reserves may have motivated U.S. actions, raising suspicions of economic self-interest. Trump’s reliance on coercion reflects patterns seen in other international conflicts, such as Russia’s actions in Ukraine or China’s military posturing near Taiwan, suggesting that U.S. precedent could em-bolden similar interventions worldwide.
Since returning to office, Trump has authorized military actions that contradict his earlier peace rhetoric. Bombings in Yemen, airstrikes in Nigeria, Somalia, Iraq and Syria and relaxed rules of engagement have resulted in civilian deaths. His administration’s policies in Israel and Palestine have facilitated large-scale displacement and loss of life. Meanwhile, claims about Venezuelan involvement in drug trafficking or threats to the U.S. have lacked concrete evidence. Maduro has neither been directly linked to major drug operations nor posed an immediate threat to U.S. security. International law allows the use of force only in response to direct attacks or imminent danger—conditions absent in Venezuela.
Trump also misrepresented historical and geopolitical facts. Allegations that Venezuela “stole” US oil ignore the nationalization of the country’s petroleum industry in 1976, a sover-eign right exercised by many nations. Similarly, blaming Venezuela for the fentanyl crisis misdirected attention from the actual supply routes, which largely involve Mexico and chemical precursors from China. Such distortions reveal a pattern of opportunistic politics, aimed at externalizing domestic frustrations rather than addressing real threats.
The potential consequences of US intervention in Venezuela are severe. Removing Maduro could create a power vacuum, spark civil unrest and drive the nation toward civil war. History in Latin America demonstrates that US-led interventions rarely produce democracy; more often, they result in chaos, authoritarianism and bloodshed.
Ultimately, Trump’s Venezuela strategy exposes the hollowness of his “end the forever wars” rhetoric. Despite promises of restraint, his administration relied on arbitrary interpretations of law and prioritized US interests over international norms. The issue is not the character of Venezuela’s leader but the principle of respecting sovereignty. Granting powerful nations the right to depose leaders of weaker states risks turning global governance into a system gov-erned by force. Trump’s Venezuela policy is a cautionary example of this dangerous trajec-tory, with consequences that may extend far beyond the region.
—The writer, based in Rawalpindi, is a journalist and columnist.
