COMMENTARY: Maduro Captured, Cuba in the Crosshairs — Latin America on the Edge of an Interventionist Abyss

Introduction: The Thunderclap of January 3, 2026

A night that changed the Western Hemisphere

In the early hours of January 3, 2026, at 2:01 a.m. local time, American special forces struck Caracas. The operation, codenamed "Absolute Resolve," lasted less than an hour according to Trump himself: explosions rocked Fuerte Tiuna, Venezuela's largest military base, air defenses were neutralized, and Nicolás Maduro and his wife Cilia Flores were extracted from their residence, handcuffed, placed aboard the helicopter carrier USS Iwo Jima and transferred to New York to face American justice. This was not an ordinary arrest. It was a large-scale military operation conducted on foreign sovereign territory, against a sitting head of state, in the name of a narco-terrorism indictment sealed since 2020.

Since that night, the world has viewed Latin America differently. Venezuela is no longer a dictatorship holding out behind its own fortifications — it is now a country under direct American oversight, with an interim president, Delcy Rodríguez, cooperating with Washington. And on the neighboring island, Cuba is trembling: Raúl Castro himself was indicted in the United States in May 2026, the USS Nimitz patrols the Caribbean Sea, and Trump told Axios that Cuba would "possibly be next." We stand at the dawn of a historic turning point — and it is urgent to analyze the risks.

What the facts confirm — and what they do not

Let us clarify from the outset the factual status: Maduro is not on the run, is not "targeted" in the sense of an ongoing operation — he is well and truly captured. Detained since January 3, 2026 at the Metropolitan Detention Center in Brooklyn, he pleaded not guilty before the federal court of the Southern District of New York on four counts, including narco-terrorism and conspiracy to import cocaine. His hearing, initially scheduled for June 30, was postponed to July 22 at the request of prosecutor Jay Clayton, who cited logistical and security requirements. His defense, led by attorney Barry Pollack — who also represented Julian Assange — contests the court's jurisdictional competence.

What the facts do not confirm, however, is the thesis that this operation was purely a law enforcement matter. Dozens of people were killed, including 32 Cuban soldiers belonging to Maduro's personal guard according to some sources. The New York Times reported at least 80 deaths, both civilian and military. The UN condemned a violation of Article 2(4) of the United Nations Charter. This is not a nuance: it is the heart of the moral and strategic debate this article sets out to raise.

Maduro, the Man the West Wanted for Years

A judicial case built over a decade

Maduro's federal indictment was not born on January 3, 2026. It was sealed in March 2020 by the U.S. Department of Justice under the Trump administration, then maintained by the Biden administration, which lacked the resolve to act on it. The charges are precise and damning: Maduro allegedly led and fueled for years a criminal network — the "Cartel de los Soles," a drug trafficking structure embedded in the Venezuelan state apparatus — enabling the mass export of cocaine to the United States, with the complicity of the Bolivarian Armed Forces. Tren de Aragua, the violent gang that terrorized American soil in recent years, is also named in the court documents.

In November 2025, the Trump administration designated the Cartel de los Soles as a foreign terrorist organization. This designation, combined with the existing indictment, provided the White House Office of Legal Counsel with the necessary legal foundation to characterize the operation not as an act of war but as "law enforcement activity abroad with military support." The legal construction is clever. It is also — for a large number of international jurists — fundamentally insufficient.

The Maduro regime: a record that demands to be seen

To understand why the operation prompted scenes of jubilation in the streets of Caracas and in Venezuelan communities in Miami, Doral and Bogotá, one must recall what Venezuela was like under Maduro. More than seven million Venezuelan exiles — the largest migration crisis in the recent history of Latin America. A hyperinflation that wiped out every form of savings. Opponents tortured, imprisoned, forced to flee. Elections rigged in 2024, rejected by the opposition and by the international community. Edmundo González, the opposition candidate who had indisputably won the July 2024 vote, forced into exile. A regime that used oil revenues not to feed its population but to maintain its privileges, fund repression and court Moscow, Beijing, Tehran and Havana.

Maduro was not a contested leader in any nuanced sense: he was the head of an authoritarian regime responsible for crimes against humanity — Argentine justice signed a warrant against him in February 2026 for torture, arbitrary detention and forced disappearances. The question is not whether his fall deserves to be mourned. The question is whether the method Washington employed is sustainable, replicable and compatible with the international order it claims to defend.

Operation Absolute Resolve: What the Numbers Reveal

An extraordinary military operation dressed up as a police action

Secretary of State Marco Rubio insisted on NBC Meet the Press: "This is not a war. It is a law enforcement function." But let us look at the raw facts. According to multiple converging sources, the operation mobilized more than 150 aircraft, including F-35s and F-22s, to neutralize Venezuela's Russian-made air defense systems. Anti-radiation missiles destroyed Caracas's integrated S-300 systems. Strikes hit the port of La Guaira and infrastructure across the north of the country. Venezuelan Defense Minister Vladimir Padrino López confirmed that American combat helicopters had fired rockets and missiles in urban areas. Virtually Maduro's entire personal guard was killed during the assault on his fortified residence.

To call all of this a police arrest is to distort the meaning of words. The White House Office of Legal Counsel produced a memorandum arguing that the American president possesses "inherent authority" under Article II of the Constitution to execute an arrest warrant abroad. International law experts, however, point out that international law rigorously distinguishes prescriptive jurisdiction — the right to indict someone — from enforcement jurisdiction — the right to carry out an arrest on foreign territory. The latter is universally illegal without the consent of the country concerned.

The victims nobody wants to count

In the euphoria surrounding a dictator's capture, civilian victims take a back seat. That is human. It is also dangerous. The New York Times reported at least 80 deaths, civilian and military. Among them, 32 Cuban soldiers who formed part of Maduro's personal guard — confirmation that Havana had deeply integrated its security forces into the Venezuelan apparatus. Trump himself acknowledged that the operation had caused American casualties but no American deaths — which implies that combat did indeed take place. The rhetoric of "arrest without war" collides with these figures with particular force.

Delcy Rodríguez, the vice-president turned interim president, demanded a "right of scrutiny over the detention conditions" of Maduro and called for his immediate release — while de facto accepting the new order. She released hundreds of political prisoners in the first weeks of her mandate, permitted pro-democracy rallies, and initiated the opening of Venezuela's oil sector to American investment. On June 22, 2026, she publicly declared that January 3, 2026 had been "a pivotal moment" that had redirected Venezuela toward the "right path." History does not write itself in black and white.

The Legal Question That Haunts the Operation

A dangerous precedent for international law

Article 2(4) of the United Nations Charter is unambiguous: "All Members shall refrain in their international relations from the threat or use of force against the territorial integrity or political independence of any state." The exception provided in Article 51 — self-defense — requires a prior armed attack by the targeted state. Venezuela had not attacked the United States. An indictment for drug trafficking does not constitute an armed attack under international law. The UN stated this clearly. Dozens of countries stated it clearly. The United Kingdom declined to validate the legality of the operation, even if Prime Minister Keir Starmer stopped short of explicitly condemning it.

The International Court of Justice established in 2002, in the Arrest Warrant case (DRC v. Belgium), that sitting heads of state benefit from absolute personal immunity before foreign jurisdictions. The United States countered that they had not recognized Maduro as the legitimate president since 2019. But this non-recognition is not universally shared — the UN still formally recognized his government. Maduro's defense, led by Barry Pollack, is raising precisely these arguments before the federal court in Manhattan: jurisdictional competence, head-of-state immunity, the right to a fair trial without access to Venezuelan state funds blocked by American sanctions.

The Noriega model revisited — at an unprecedented scale

Several analysts immediately drew a parallel with the American invasion of Panama in 1989 to capture Manuel Noriega. Noriega too had been indicted in the United States for drug trafficking. The United States too had mobilized the military to extract him. And Noriega too had pleaded head-of-state immunity — without success. The Eleventh Circuit Court of Appeals had then ruled that American non-recognition of the Noriega government stripped it of the right to claim that immunity before an American court. Maduro is likely to suffer the same legal fate.

But the Noriega precedent involved an operation of roughly 25,000 troops operating in Panama, a country under strong American influence since the construction of the canal. Caracas is not Panama City. And above all, the 35 years since 1989 have seen the construction of international law far more explicit on state sovereignty, the prohibition of force and the immunity of leaders. Applying the logic of 1989 in 2026 is a deliberate choice to move backward — and to open a Pandora's box that other actors — Beijing, Moscow, Tehran — will not fail to exploit.

Trump and Latin America: The Return of the "Big Stick" in the Age of Social Media

The Western Hemisphere as claimed backyard

Donald Trump has never concealed his vision of Latin America. By proclaiming himself "interim president of Venezuela" on social media on January 11, 2026, he formalized a posture that runs through his entire administration: the Western Hemisphere is the natural sphere of American influence, and any presence of rival powers — China, Russia, Iran — within it is an existential threat. This doctrine is not without analytical foundation. Maduro's Venezuela had indeed become a hub of military, intelligence and influence cooperation for Moscow, Beijing and Tehran. Cuba served as a transmission belt between these powers and Caracas. Tren de Aragua was spreading terror as far as Denver and Chicago.

But there is a difference between correctly diagnosing a threat and responding to it wisely. Trump announced that the United States would "manage" Venezuela "until a safe, proper and judicious transition can take place." He invoked American interests in the country's vast oil reserves — among the largest in the world — with a candor that made even some Washington allies uncomfortable. Interior Secretary Doug Burgum traveled to Caracas in late June to explore mining opportunities. The United States normalized diplomatic relations with the Rodríguez administration and lifted some oil sanctions. The smell of petroleum pervades this entire operation.

Marco Rubio, the architect of a new hemispheric order

Marco Rubio, the son of Cuban exiles, is the linchpin of this policy. His anti-Castro-Chavista obsession has been well known in the Senate for decades. His role as Secretary of State in the second Trump administration gave him the tools to transform this obsession into operational foreign policy. He drove the designation of the Cartel de los Soles as a terrorist organization. He is the face Trump places at the forefront on Cuba. He coordinates the "Americas Shield," the military coalition of right-wing leaders formed to combat drug trafficking in the region — now including the Colombia of de la Espriella, whose runoff election victory on June 22, 2026 was immediately celebrated by Washington.

Under Rubio, American policy in Latin America combines with brutal coherence: maximum economic sanctions to asphyxiate adversarial regimes, judicial indictments to criminalize their leaders, visible military pressure as a deterrence signal, and if necessary direct intervention. This strategy worked in Venezuela. It is now attempting to replicate itself in Cuba. But the two countries are fundamentally different — and serious observers are beginning to worry about this.

The Cuban Temptation: Between Venezuelan Precedent and Historical Specifics

Cuba is not Venezuela — and that is where the risk grows

On June 19, 2026, in an interview with Axios, Trump answered "It's possible" to the question of whether an operation similar to Venezuela's could be conducted against Cuba. Six words that made Havana tremble. On May 20, American justice had already unveiled an indictment against Raúl Castro himself — 94 years old, Fidel's brother, former head of state — for murder and conspiracy, in connection with the shooting down of two civilian aircraft belonging to the organization Brothers to the Rescue on February 24, 1996, killing four people including three American citizens. That same day, the USS Nimitz and its carrier strike group entered the Caribbean Sea — a synchronization that left nothing to chance.

But Cuba is a fundamentally different case from Venezuela. Political scientist Javier Corrales, of Amherst College, analyzes this with precision in Lawfare: the Venezuelan regime was above all a transactional enterprise built on corruption and secret arrangements within its elite. That is why Delcy Rodríguez, a former Maduro ally, could pivot so rapidly toward Washington. The Cuban regime, by contrast, is an institution founded on constitutive anti-Americanism — an ideological, military and security organization built over six decades to resist precisely this type of American pressure. Cuba has lived with sanctions since 1960. The Venezuela model does not transplant automatically.

The alarming signals of a cascading escalation

Since January 2026, the Trump administration has accumulated more than 240 sanctions against Cuba, imposed a fuel blockade that reduced fuel imports by 80 to 90%, causing power outages of more than 20 hours per day across the island. UN High Commissioner for Human Rights Volker Türk warned that children were dying for lack of medicines. CIA Director John Ratcliffe traveled to Havana on May 15 to meet Raúl Castro's grandson and Cuban intelligence chiefs, ordering them to "draw lessons from Venezuela." Meanwhile, Cuba is desperately attempting to open its economy — its National Assembly recently approved an emergency reform package — but without going so far as to accept the political conditions set by Washington.

The spiral is mechanical: maximum American pressure, a Cuban response deemed insufficient by Washington, new escalation, barely veiled military threat. If Trump ever decides that the "timing is flexible but now" for Cuba, the consequences could be far more complex than in Venezuela. The island has 9.6 million inhabitants, an ideologically motivated army even if aging, and a web of institutional resistance that Caracas did not possess. And above all, a military intervention 150 kilometers from the Florida coast without Congressional authorization, in a country that has not attacked the United States, would open a constitutional and diplomatic crisis of considerable magnitude.

Echoes of History: Panama, Grenada, Iraq — the List of Warnings

When early successes conceal deferred catastrophes

The history of American interventions in Latin America is a manual of warnings that Washington rarely rereads with sufficient attention. In 1983, Reagan's invasion of Grenada had been celebrated as a lightning triumph against a Cuban-Soviet threat — and it had indeed toppled a Marxist regime within days. In 1989, the invasion of Panama to capture Noriega worked militarily. In 2003, the fall of Saddam Hussein took three weeks. In each of these cases, the initial military "success" masked the scale of the post-intervention problems: political instability, armed resistance, colossal human and financial costs, irreparable damage to American credibility in the region and the world.

In Venezuela, the first months seem encouraging. Rodríguez is freeing prisoners, opening the economy, restoring diplomatic relations with Washington. The United States and Caracas officially normalized their relationship in June 2026. But the fragilities are real: a large part of the Chavista military elite has not yet been dismantled. Tren de Aragua is still operating. Remaining Chavista factions are searching for a new figurehead following Maduro's capture. The operation killed dozens of people and left deep scars. And the fundamental question — how to organize a credible democratic transition under American supervision — has not yet found a convincing answer.

Latin America watches, concerned

The regional reaction to the Venezuelan operation was significantly more divided than Washington had hoped. Brazil, Mexico, the Colombia of Gustavo Petro (before his announced departure), Milei's Argentina — each reacted differently. Argentine President Milei celebrated: "Freedom advances." Petro condemned an act of aggression. Brazil demanded explanations. The African Union and several Global South countries voted at the UN for a resolution condemning the operation. The Western consensus on the legitimacy of the operation simply did not exist — and this fracture directly feeds the anti-American rhetoric of Moscow and Beijing, who are exploiting to the fullest the double standard in the application of international law.

Russia condemned an "act of American state terrorism." China called for respect for sovereignty. Iran spoke of "gangsterism." These reactions are predictable and largely hypocritical coming from regimes that themselves permanently violate international law. But they find an echo, including in non-aligned countries that are neither pro-Maduro nor pro-Trump and that legitimately wonder what this precedent means for their own sovereignty.

Black Gold at the Heart of the Venezuelan Equation

Oil as the unacknowledged driver of American policy

Trump made no attempt to conceal the American interest in Venezuelan energy resources. Asked about the country's vast oil reserves — the largest in the world by some estimates, particularly the heavy oils of the Orinoco Belt — he replied that the United States would be "very heavily involved" and that the future of remaining Maduro loyalists was "bleak if they stayed faithful." As early as January 29, 2026, under direct American pressure, President Rodríguez pushed through a new hydrocarbons law reducing royalties and transferring operational control to foreign companies.

Some analysts — and this is a thesis that deserves to be taken seriously without being blindly endorsed — argue that the Venezuelan operation was part of a broader strategy aimed at securing alternative energy sources in the face of escalation in the Middle East and tensions with Iran. Orinoco Belt heavy crude can replace Middle Eastern oil in American refineries. Whether this geoeconomic dimension factored into Washington's strategic calculation is not a conspiracy theory — it is a serious analytical hypothesis, and Trump himself contributed to it with his own statements.

China lying in wait

Lurking behind the Venezuelan operation is also the Sino-American rivalry. Beijing was the main buyer of Venezuelan oil under Maduro, helping to keep the regime afloat despite American sanctions. Maduro's capture and the opening of the Venezuelan oil sector to American and Western companies represents, from this perspective, a strategic blow against China's access to energy in the United States' immediate neighborhood. Philippine international law experts publicly noted that the operation could "be part of a broader geopolitical strategy aimed at constraining China's access to energy rather than a strictly defined law enforcement action."

This dimension makes the operation even more complex to evaluate morally. If Maduro's capture simultaneously serves American justice, American oil interests, the China containment strategy and Rubio's personal agenda, each of these objectives can be discussed separately. But their superimposition in a single military operation on foreign territory creates a mixture of motivations that muddies judgments and, above all, undermines the "purely judicial" narrative that Washington strives to maintain.

Trump, Necessary Evil or Bad Calculation? The Debate Dividing the West

The arguments of the hardliners

The defenders of the operation advance arguments that deserve to be taken seriously. Former State Department official Matthew Kroenig argued in Foreign Policy that the White House had made "the right call" in capturing Maduro. The logic runs as follows: decades of diplomatic pressure, sanctions and condemnations had failed to shake the regime. The international judicial option was blocked by the Russian and Chinese veto on the Security Council. Economic pressure had succeeded only in further impoverishing the Venezuelan people without dislodging the Chavista elite. Faced with a regime that had demonstrated a remarkable capacity to resist every instrument short of military force, the operation may have represented the last remaining lever.

The ground-level results are undeniable in the short term: hundreds of political prisoners freed, a democratic opening underway even if fragile, talks between the interim government and the opposition supervised by the United States on June 18, 2026, diplomatic normalization progressing regionally, and a Delcy Rodríguez publicly declaring that January 3rd put Venezuela "on the right path." If one evaluates purely the Venezuelan results at the six-month mark, the balance sheet is less catastrophic than some had feared.

The critics' arguments — and why they matter

The critics, for their part, point to a list of serious strategic risks. First risk: the precedent. If the United States can invade a country to arrest a head of state under cover of a criminal indictment, what rule prevents Russia tomorrow from invoking a fictional Ukrainian warrant to "arrest" Zelensky? What rule prevents China from invoking a warrant to extract a Taiwanese or Kazakhstani leader? International law has value only if major powers observe it — and if the world's greatest Western democracy bypasses it at will, it empties the rule of its substance. Second risk: blind replication of the model. Applying the Venezuela logic to Cuba without understanding the structural differences between the two regimes could lead to a quagmire.

Third risk, the most immediate: Trump himself. The Venezuela operation may have been justifiable in its deeper motivations — dislodging a narco-trafficking tyrant backed by adversarial powers. But Trump managed it with the subtlety of a real estate developer: by declaring he wanted to "manage" Venezuela, by immediately invoking the oil reserves, by proclaiming himself "interim president" on social media, he provided the adversaries of the West with exactly the propaganda material they had been dreaming of. A necessary evil, perhaps. A well-communicated evil, certainly not.

The Maduro Trial in New York: A Historic Legal Drama

Four counts, a combative defense

Nicolás Maduro is now held at the Metropolitan Detention Center in Brooklyn — the same facility that has housed other notable detainees before him. He faces four federal counts before the Court of the Southern District of New York: conspiracy to commit narco-terrorism (mandatory minimum 20 years, maximum life imprisonment), conspiracy to import cocaine, and two weapons charges (possession of machine guns and destructive devices). Cilia Flores faces the last three counts. Both pleaded not guilty. Maduro told the court he was "the legitimate president of Venezuela," that he had been "kidnapped" and considered himself a "prisoner of war."

His defense, led by Barry Pollack (Assange and other sensitive cases), filed a dismissal motion challenging the court's jurisdictional competence and arguing that American sanctions prevent the defendants from using Venezuelan state funds to finance their defense. Prosecutor Jay Clayton responded that Maduro can use his personal funds. Federal judge Alvin K. Hellerstein rejected the dismissal motion and postponed the next hearing to July 22, 2026. The trial promises to be one of the most significant in American judicial history, comparable to the Noriega and Escobar cases.

Head-of-state immunity: the central legal minefield

The question of head-of-state immunity is the legal core of this case. The United States had not recognized Maduro as the legitimate president since 2019, recognizing Juan Guaidó instead. But this American non-recognition is not universal. Argentina, through its February 2026 arrest warrant for crimes against humanity, took a similar position. But several countries had continued to maintain relations with Caracas. Customary international law, for its part, has never conditioned a head of state's personal immunity on diplomatic recognition — as the ICJ reaffirmed in 2002.

The comparison with Noriega will be central to the proceedings. The Eleventh Circuit had rejected his immunity arguments in 1993 by relying on the non-recognition of his government by Washington. But since 1993, international law has evolved significantly. The ICJ's 2002 ruling post-dates that American jurisprudence. Maduro's lawyers will argue that American courts must take this evolution into account. They are unlikely to prevail. But the debate will considerably enrich international jurisprudence on these questions — in extremely politically charged circumstances.

The Impact on Regional Geopolitics: A Continent Recomposing

Latin America's rightward shift and its limits

Maduro's capture coincided with — and likely partly contributed to — a remarkable political shift in Latin America. On June 22, 2026, the conservative Abelardo de la Espriella won the presidential election in Colombia against the left-wing candidate — a victory immediately celebrated by Trump. Milei's Argentina, Paraguay, Ecuador, Peru: the right-wing axis forming in the region is the most coherent since the 1990s. Combined with Rubio's "Americas Shield," it sketches a profound strategic realignment that structurally weakens the influence of Cuba, residual Venezuela and their regional allies.

But this pivot has limits and fragilities. Colombia just experienced an extremely tight election — fewer than 250,000 votes separating the candidates on an electorate of tens of millions — revealing a deeply divided society. Lula's Brazil maintains a critical stance toward American interventionism. Mexico remains wary. And in all these countries, tens of millions of people saw in the Venezuelan operation not the liberation of a people but the demonstration of American imperial power. This perception matters politically in the long term — even if, morally, Maduro fully deserved to be toppled.

Russia's role and Moscow's geopolitical calculations

Russia lost a major strategic ally on January 3, 2026. Russian S-300 air defense systems were destroyed in minutes. Cuban soldiers — the transmission belt of Soviet-Russian military influence in the region — were killed. Moscow's access to Venezuelan oil resources and Caribbean ports was brutally compromised. Analysts who argue that Russia's betrayal of Maduro — its refusal to militarily defend its ally — was one of the determining factors in the regime's collapse may be right. Moscow may have calculated that sacrificing Caracas was less costly than a direct confrontation with American forces.

This calculation on Moscow's part, if confirmed, reveals a fundamental limit of the protection Russia offers its autocratic allies: when the risk becomes too high, Putin abandons his own. This is information that regimes counting on Moscow — Belarus, residual Syria, Iran — should carefully consider. Alliance with Russia is an insurance policy with an unwritten exclusion clause: it does not cover cases where Washington genuinely decides to strike.

The "Cuban Temptation": Between Historical Mirror and Strategic Trap

1898 and 2026: History repeating itself in disguise

Javier Corrales of Amherst College concludes his analysis in Lawfare with a chilling historical warning: "In 1898, the United States intervened militarily in Cuba to expel a brutal regime, but was reluctant to grant full political rights. We may be on the verge of a reprise." This comparison is powerful. In 1898, American intervention against colonial Spain liberated Cuba from cruel domination — but the United States then imposed the Platt Amendment, reserving a permanent right of intervention in Cuban affairs and denying the island the full sovereignty it had just won at the cost of blood. It is this historical wound, more than any other factor, that explains the durability of Cuban anti-Americanism.

If Washington applies to the Cuba of 2026 the same logic as to Venezuela — capture or neutralize the leadership, install a docile interlocutor, open the economy to American interests — without simultaneously building the conditions for a truly sovereign Cuban democracy, it will reproduce exactly the mistakes of 1898. And Cuban memory, unlike Venezuelan memory, is deeply nourished by this heritage. The risk of a boomerang effect, of lasting resistance, of prolonged instability is real — whatever the abjectness of the Castro regime.

The chasm between Cuban aspirations and American interests

The Cuban people are suffering. Power outages of more than 20 hours per day, medicine shortages killing children according to the UN, the brain drain, the mass exile of an entire generation — all of this is real and devastating. And the Cuban people aspire, according to many observers, far less to a façade anti-Americanism than to a normal life, to electricity, to healthcare, to freedom of speech. Polls conducted on the island (with all the required methodological caveats) suggest that a large majority wants profound change.

But there is a difference between what the Cuban people want and what Washington wants. Cubans want democracy, economic freedom, pluralist institutions. Trump wants, at a minimum, Cuba without a geostrategic threat, Cuba without a Russian or Chinese intelligence base, Cuba open to American investment. These interests partly overlap but do not entirely coincide. And if an intervention in Cuba produces a Cuban Delcy Rodríguez — docile to Washington, freeing some prisoners, opening beaches to American investors — without producing a real democracy, the Cuban people will have traded one cage for another.

The West Confronting Its Own Contradictions

Defending human rights and violating sovereignty: the permanent double bind

The West has built itself since 1945 on two apparently contradictory pillars: respect for state sovereignty (the principle of non-interference) and the universal defense of human rights (the right of humanitarian intervention). These two pillars regularly come into tension. In Kosovo in 1999, NATO's intervention to halt Serbian massacres also had no UN mandate — and most Western democrats supported it. Libya in 2011 had a UN mandate, but the post-intervention damage was considerable. Iraq in 2003 had fabricated justifications and produced a lasting regional catastrophe.

Venezuela falls somewhere on this spectrum — between Kosovo (intervention in a context of real crimes) and Iraq (intervention with mixed motivations and no planned exit strategy). The fundamental difference is that in 2026, the multipolar context is radically different from 1999 or 2003. China and Russia are active global powers that use every American misstep as an argument to legitimize their own violations. The West can no longer afford the luxury of clumsy interventions — not because tyrants deserve to be spared, but because the geopolitical consequences of every action are amplified in a world where American hegemony is contested.

What the Venezuelan affair says about the health of American democracy

There is one final question this article cannot avoid: the Venezuela operation was decided, planned and executed by a Trump administration without a Congressional vote, without prior public debate, without a UN mandate, on the basis of a legal justification constructed after the fact. Trump announced the capture on social media, proclaimed himself "interim president of Venezuela," and immediately evoked the oil reserves. That is not how a mature democracy normally manages this kind of major military operation abroad.

Divisions in the American Congress over the operation were deep and revealing. Republicans celebrated. Democrats demanded accountability on legality and constitutional authorization. Even some traditional American allies in Europe expressed profound unease. The Venezuela operation reveals that the American institutional guardrails — the War Powers Act, Congressional consultation, decision-making process transparency — were largely bypassed. And if that precedent takes hold, if American presidents can wage wars by calling them arrests, then American democracy itself has a problem to resolve.

Conclusion: Between Justice and Precedent — the Vertigo of Hegemony

The six-month balance sheet: real results, open risks

Six months after Operation Absolute Resolve, the balance sheet is of a complexity that neither Trump's supporters nor his detractors want to fully embrace. On the positive side: a brutal tyrant is behind bars in Brooklyn, awaiting trial. Hundreds of political prisoners have been freed in Venezuela. A fragile but real transition is taking place under American supervision. Diplomatic relations between Washington and Caracas have been normalized. Russian and Cuban presence in Venezuelan security structures has been severely compromised. These are tangible results, and it would be dishonest to deny them.

On the risks side: a dangerous legal-military precedent has been established. The UN and a majority of countries condemned the operation as illegal. The Cuba strategy, if conducted without discernment, could produce a far more difficult quagmire to manage. The mixed motivations — justice, oil, anti-China strategy — undermine the moral legitimacy of the operation. And the impulsiveness of Trumpian communication handed Moscow and Beijing exactly the rhetorical ammunition they needed to discredit the West. Saying "it was still useful" is not enough for a power that claims to be the arbiter of world order.

What we must demand — and from whom

The West needs clear rules and red lines maintained with consistency. That means toppling tyrants is sometimes necessary — but the way it is done is not irrelevant. That means Trump may have been right about the target and wrong about the method. That means criticizing a clumsy American intervention is not anti-Americanism — it is defending the consistency of the values the West claims to embody. And it means, above all, that Latin America cannot remain indefinitely the backyard of great powers — whether Washington, Moscow or Beijing. Latin American peoples deserve sovereign democracies, not regimes approved by the White House or the Kremlin.

Signed Maxime Marquette, columnist

Sources

Primary sources

Maduro arrives in New York after capture by US forces — Ground News, June 20, 2026

US justice postpones Maduro hearing to July 22 — Demócrata, June 17, 2026

Trump says potential Cuba operation could mirror Venezuela raid — Epoch Times, June 19, 2026

Secondary sources

Trump's Cuba Problem — Lawfare Media, June 21, 2026

USS Nimitz enters Caribbean as US indicts Raul Castro — Army Recognition, June 19, 2026

How the US Broke International Law in Venezuela — Bruin Political Review, June 21, 2026

Cuba on the Precipice — Defense Security Monitor, June 17, 2026

Trump Suggests Cuba Could Follow Venezuela's Path — Newsmax, June 20, 2026