Standfirst
The dramatic US raid that seized Nicolás Maduro and flew him to a New York jail has stunned the world. Washington insists this is a narco-terrorism case, not a war. But from Caracas to Bogotá and Brussels, critics see something far bigger: a superpower testing the limits of law, sovereignty and raw force.
A President in Chains, a Country in Limbo
In the space of a few hours, Venezuela went from authoritarian state to geopolitical experiment.
US special forces swept into Caracas under the banner of Operation Absolute Resolve, struck multiple targets and captured President Nicolás Maduro and his wife Cilia Flores, flying them to New York to face long-standing narco-terror and weapons charges.
Maduro now sits in Brooklyn’s notorious Metropolitan Detention Center – a grim jail more familiar with drug lords and white-collar criminals than sitting heads of state.
Yet, as images of a handcuffed president loop on global news, the central question is no longer where Maduro is. It’s what, exactly, has the United States just done?
President Donald Trump has declared that Washington will “run” Venezuela “for a period of time” until a “safe, proper and judicious transition” can be arranged – hinting at US-directed reconstruction financed by Venezuelan oil.
At the same time, Secretary of State Marco Rubio insists the US is “not at war with Venezuela”, framing the operation as a strike against a narco-terror network rather than a nation.
These two messages – we’re not at war and we’re running your country – sit uneasily together. That contradiction is where the truth, and the danger, lie.
The Official Story: War on Drugs, Not War on a State
The Trump administration’s line is clear: this is law enforcement with jets.
Maduro has been under US indictment since 2020 for allegedly overseeing a cocaine pipeline to North America as head of the so-called “Cartel of the Suns”. The latest superseding charges bundle narco-terrorism, cocaine importation and weapons offences into a sweeping case in Manhattan federal court.
Officials argue that Operation Southern Spear – the broader campaign of airstrikes on suspected drug-trafficking vessels and targets across the Caribbean and Venezuela – is simply an extension of this mission: treating cartels like armed groups in an “ongoing armed conflict”.
By this logic, the capture of Maduro is just the most high-profile arrest yet in a global drugs crackdown.
The problem? International law doesn’t see it that way.
International Law: A Mission in Search of a Legal Basis
Under the UN Charter, states may only use force in self-defence or with explicit Security Council approval. Drug trafficking – even on a massive scale – does not, on its own, qualify.
Legal experts quoted by Reuters and the Associated Press are blunt: presenting a full-scale bombing campaign and commando raid as a souped-up police operation “stretches” the law beyond recognition.
Unlike the 1989 invasion of Panama – where the US at least claimed to protect its citizens and install a recognised opposition government when it seized Manuel Noriega – the Venezuela raid carried no congressional authorization, no UN mandate and no invitation from any recognised Venezuelan authority.
In other words, to much of the world it looks less like an arrest and more like an abduction.
That view is shared by a group of regional powers – Brazil, Chile, Colombia, Mexico, Uruguay and Spain – which accused Washington of violating core principles of sovereignty and setting an “extremely dangerous precedent”.
Even if US courts ultimately allow the trial to proceed regardless of how Maduro was captured – as they did in Noriega’s case – the foreign-policy damage is already done.
Who Really Governs Venezuela Now?
While Trump claims the US will steer Venezuela’s transition, the power map on the ground tells a different story.
Defence Minister Vladimir Padrino has appeared on national television backing Vice-President Delcy Rodríguez as interim president and denouncing the raid as “kidnapping”. He also alleges that much of Maduro’s security detail – and civilians – were killed in the strikes, though casualty figures remain contested.
Key regime figures – Padrino himself and strongman Diosdado Cabello among them – remain firmly entrenched. For them, the sight of Maduro flown out in shackles is both a warning and a bargaining chip: cooperate with Washington, or risk becoming the next high-value extraction target.
In this uneasy triangle:
- The US claims de facto control and leverage through sanctions, warships and air power.
- Rodríguez and the military hold the guns, the ministries and the streets.
- The opposition – Nobel Peace Prize winner María Corina Machado and presumed president-elect Edmundo González – find themselves spectators to a transition they spent years fighting for.
For Venezuelans, this looks less like democracy restored and more like a tug-of-war between an old regime, a foreign power and a sidelined opposition.
Human Cost: Earthquakes in the Night
Beyond the legal abstractions, there is the literal explosion of reality.
Residents in Caracas describe the US strikes as “like earthquakes”, with blackouts, fireballs over the capital and the sound of jets overhead.
Estimates from Venezuelan officials – echoed in international reporting – suggest dozens of people, including civilians, were killed in the initial assault.
Across the border in Colombia, the military has quietly reinforced its positions, fearing both refugee surges and opportunistic moves by guerrilla groups historically aligned with Caracas.
In the streets of Caracas, life is a paradox: supermarkets open, people queue for petrol, yet no one knows who will be in charge next month – or next week.
Gunboat Diplomacy in HD
Historians have a phrase for what this looks like: gunboat diplomacy – using the threat or reality of naval and military force to dictate terms to weaker states.
Trump has not hidden his admiration for this blunt instrument. The naval build-up in the Caribbean, the repeated references to seizing Venezuelan oil revenue and the open talk of a “larger second attack” if leaders in Caracas don’t comply all fit that older pattern.
The Guardian has already dubbed the raid a return to “naked imperialism”, placing it in a long line of US interventions in Latin America – from Guatemala in the 1950s to Chile in 1973 and Panama in 1989.
Supporters argue the comparison is unfair: Maduro is an indicted narco-dictator whose disputed 2024 re-election was widely condemned. Removing him, they say, both punishes criminality and gives Venezuelans a chance at something better.
But critics counter that democracy imposed at the end of a cruise missile rarely survives contact with reality – as Iraq and Afghanistan painfully demonstrated.
The Democratic Paradox
The strangest twist is who has not been empowered by this intervention.
For years, Venezuela’s opposition has demanded international pressure to topple Maduro. Machado risked prison to organise primaries, won them in a landslide, then watched the regime bar her from office. González stepped in as a compromise candidate, only for the 2024 election results to be widely questioned.
Yet in the new post-raid script, neither Machado nor González leads the transition. Trump has publicly dismissed the idea that Machado commands majority support and instead threatened interim leader Rodríguez with a “very big price” if she fails to follow US wishes.
The message is unmistakable: Washington will decide who is useful, who is expendable, and which voices count – even among those who fought longest for democracy.
For Venezuelans who hoped for a genuine transfer of power through ballots rather than bombs, that is a bitter pill.
A Dangerous Precedent – Far Beyond Caracas
Whatever one thinks of Maduro, the precedent here won’t stay confined to Latin America.
If the US can unilaterally snatch a sitting head of state on non-military criminal charges – then claim the right to “run” their country for a time – what stops other great powers from doing the same?
- Could a future Beijing justify abducting an exiled leader on “corruption” charges?
- Might Moscow argue that a dissident abroad is really a “terrorist” and send commandos, citing the Venezuela precedent?
International rules are often only as strong as the restraint of the most powerful. With Russia already facing criticism for its own violations of sovereignty in Ukraine, the US now risks eroding the moral ground it once claimed.
If everyone starts playing by Venezuela rules, the world becomes a far more dangerous place for small states – and for exiled dissidents who once believed borders protected them.
What Happens Next?
In the coming weeks, three tracks will run in parallel:
- The Courtroom Drama – Maduro’s initial appearance in Manhattan will be largely procedural, but his lawyers are expected to argue sovereign immunity and illegal capture. Precedent suggests they’ll lose – yet the hearings will become a global stage for competing narratives of crime and imperialism.
- The Street Test – Maduro’s son has urged supporters to “take to the streets”, while opposition groups are mobilising their own rallies for democracy and elections. Pro- and anti-US protests abroad already bookend this divide.
- The Washington Recoil – In Congress, both Republicans and Democrats are voicing alarm at the lack of consultation and the risk of open-ended entanglement. A War Powers challenge is brewing, even as Trump allies hail the raid as a show of strength.
For Venezuelans themselves, however, the yardstick is simpler: do these events actually lead to food on shelves, functioning electricity, and a path to credible elections – or just another chapter of foreign interference layered over domestic repression?
Until that question is answered, claims of “liberation” will ring hollow.
