- Prof Dr Nishant A. Irudayadason
Professor of Philosophy and Ethics
Pontifical Athenaeum Jnana Deepa
Pune 411014
On 3 January 2026, United States forces executed Operation Absolute Resolve, capturing Venezuelan President Nicolás Maduro and his wife, Cilia Flores, in Caracas. President Donald Trump announced the raid from Mar-a-Lago, calling it a strike against a narco-state fuelling drug trafficking and instability. American strikes targeted northern infrastructure, including airbases and the legislative palace, killing at least 24 Venezuelan personnel and 32 Cuban advisers, per official reports. Maduro, long indicted in the US for narcoterrorism since 2020, was transferred to New York, where he proclaimed himself a prisoner of war. Trump declared that the US would administer Venezuela pending an orderly transition, although the specifics are absent. This marks the boldest US intervention in Latin America since Panama in 1989, following months of escalation—naval blockades, tanker seizures, and drone operations. Geopolitically, it signals Washington’s renewed assertion of influence in its hemisphere, against Venezuela’s economic ruin, mass exodus, and ties to Russia, China, and Iran. The action, however, probes the boundaries of sovereignty, where criminal indictments underpin military incursions, threatening post-1945 norms of non-intervention.
The confrontation stems from fractured US-Venezuela ties, worsened under Maduro since 2013. Chávez’s Bolivarian project had challenged American dominance by building alliances through oil wealth. Sanctions devastated the economy: oil output fell from 2.5 million barrels per day in 2016 to below 800,000 by 2025, triggering hyperinflation and displacing over 7 million people. The contested 2024 election, marred by allegations of fraud, led Washington to support opposition figure Edmundo González, mirroring its recognition of Guaidó in 2019. Accusations of Maduro’s drug links, with a $15 million bounty, spurred military buildup—B-52 patrols, 15,000 troops deployed nearby, vessel interdictions. Caracas countered with Russian missiles, Iranian drones, and Chinese financing, decrying imperialism targeting its immense reserves. This reflected the US’s strategic reorientation toward near-abroad security, treating Venezuelan partnerships as proxies in the great-power rivalry. The incursion tests Trump’s prioritisation of resources and borders over consensus, highlighting the frailty of international law against unilateral power.
“On 3 January 2026, United States forces executed Operation Absolute Resolve, capturing Venezuelan President Nicolás Maduro… This marks the boldest US intervention in Latin America since Panama in 1989… The action, however, probes the boundaries of sovereignty, where criminal indictments underpin military incursions, threatening post-1945 norms of non-intervention.”
Fundamentally, the operation aims to fracture an anti-US authoritarian network. Venezuela hosted Russian exercises, absorbed over $60 billion in Chinese oil-backed loans, and received Iranian fuel against sanctions, becoming a foothold for these states in the Americas. Removing Maduro aims to revive oil production, adding millions of barrels globally and undercutting rivals’ leverage—potentially aiding allies facing pressure from Russian or Iranian energy sources. Yet risks abound: Moscow demands release, Pyongyang issues threats, and Beijing may deepen regional stakes. Trump presents it domestically as curbing migration and narcotics, with oil gains easing costs. Philosophically, it aligns with realism—power abhors vacuums—but strains just war principles: does pursuing criminals warrant invasion? Success demands rapid handover; otherwise, it courts quagmires akin to past occupations, complicating alliances amid Ukraine and Middle Eastern strains.
Latin American responses expose deep divisions. Pro-US leaders, such as Argentina’s Milei and El Salvador’s Bukele, celebrated liberation, whereas Colombia’s Petro decried the regional violation, pushing for talks. Brazil and Mexico urged restraint; the UN chief warned of a precedent, prompting the Security Council to act with urgency. Rights monitors highlighted civilian perils, sparking protests across cities. Markets showed cautious optimism—oil volatile, gold hitting $4,400, debt relief eyed. Polarisation may splinter regional bodies, worsen refugee burdens on neighbours, and exacerbate border tensions. It assaults Westphalian sovereignty, reviving Monroe-style unilateralism over multilateralism. In a multipolar world, it invites reciprocity, echoing Russia’s actions and weakening the taboo on conquest.
Prospects suggest turbulent realignments, blending ideology with resource contests. A pro-Western regime could stabilise Venezuela, return migrants, and market-integrate it, eroding adversary dependence. But loyalist resistance, Cuban remnants, or insurgencies might prolong the conflict, inviting proxies. One weighs Machiavellian expediency against Kantian universality—does deposing tyrants license force, or breed anarchy? Geopolitically, it may deter rogues while isolating Washington in the Global South. Vague US plans breed doubt; absent broad governance, failure looms, fuelling crises. The incursion crystallises the clash between interest and order, where daring moves in power’s game often spawn lasting, unpredictable shifts.
