GOVERNMENT & DIPLOMACY
Officials say Trump has lost patience with Nicolás Maduro and instructed his envoy to halt talks. This move, overshadowed by other crises, may be laying groundwork for a regime change confrontation that deserves far more scrutiny.
Trump’s own words suggest a harder edge. He has spoken of a non-international armed conflict against cartels — a legal term from the Geneva Conventions describing internal wars between governments and organized armed groups — and touted naval strikes at sea as proof of resolve, while hinting that operations on land may follow. The trajectory points to a calculated pressure campaign that could tip into open conflict.
Framing war as a drug fight
The administration is justifying a tougher line as part of a war on traffickers. The U.S. drug crisis is real and severe, with fentanyl and cocaine driving tens of thousands of deaths each year. The narrative casts Maduro as a criminal kingpin whose regime facilitates trafficking, and it leans on designations that treat traffickers as terrorists to expand military options.
Facts that undermine the narrative
The drug-war premise does not align with known trafficking patterns. Venezuela is primarily a transit corridor and a minor one. Cocaine is sourced in Colombia and most flows move through Central America and the eastern Pacific. There is no credible evidence that Venezuela is a meaningful source of fentanyl. The case that Caracas is a central node in the U.S. overdose crisis is tenuous at best. This raises an uncomfortable possibility: the drug frame is serving as a pretext for long-standing ambitions to unseat Maduro.
Military escalation and legal end-runs
Naval deployments, air assets in the Caribbean, and amphibious groups on standby signal a sharpened military posture. The United States has already conducted lethal strikes on small boats at sea, with the government asserting smuggling links but providing little proof. Critics argue the shift from interdiction to destruction is a shoot-first approach that blurs law enforcement and warfare.
By labeling traffickers as terrorists and unlawful combatants, the White House is expanding authorities in ways that sidestep the War Powers framework. Efforts in Congress to force a vote on further action have stalled, leaving a murky legal space where limited strikes can escalate without a defined mandate, mission, or exit.
Rubio, exiles, and the politics behind policy
This would not be the first time a Trump administration has sought to depose President Nicolás Maduro. During the 2019 presidential crisis, Washington recognized opposition leader Juan Guaidó as Venezuela’s rightful president and spearheaded a campaign of diplomatic isolation, sanctions, and covert pressure to unseat Maduro — efforts that ultimately faltered as Caracas consolidated control.
The current drivers are not only strategic but political. Secretary of State Marco Rubio has long advocated regime change in Caracas. His power base is intertwined with the South Florida exile ecosystem, particularly among Venezuelan Americans who are fiercely opposed to Maduro. Commentators, including Saagar Enjeti of Breaking Points, warned at the time of Rubio’s appointment that his ambitions in the Americas were dangerous and risked pulling U.S. policy toward maximalist goals.
There is a well-documented pattern in which diaspora politics pull Washington toward intervention. Cuban, Libyan, and Iranian exiles have each shaped narratives in ways that favour hard options. These communities have legitimate grievances, but they can also present one-sided prescriptions that discount the costs and complexities of state-building after a regime falls.
State collapse is easy. Picking up the pieces is close to impossible.
The central lesson from recent interventions is stark. Toppling a government is the easy part. Rebuilding a viable state is where projects fail.
Libya is a cautionary tale. Exile leaders and opposition figures, many based in the United States and Europe, helped frame the case for intervention. After the war, diaspora elites struggled to govern. Detachment from realities on the ground, overreliance on foreign backing, and factional rivalries left them unable to consolidate authority. Many rotated in and out, some literally flying back to their lives abroad as the situation worsened. The result was state collapse, arms proliferation across the Sahel, a boom in smuggling networks, and migration shocks that reshaped European politics.
Iraq and Syria offer parallel lessons. Remove the regime and you inherit fragmented security landscapes, contested legitimacy, and an almost impossible stabilisation bill. The pattern is consistent. The faster a state is knocked down, the harder it becomes to reassemble institutions that can hold territory, deliver services, and enjoy consent to rule.
Why Venezuela could be worse
Venezuela adds features that magnify risk. It is polarized, militarized, and already in a deep economic crisis. Pro-government militias and security organs have prepared for asymmetric defense and urban warfare. Senior figures have telegraphed a willingness to fight a long guerrilla campaign. A violent rupture could produce factional conflict, criminal entrepreneurship on a larger scale, and a humanitarian emergency that dwarfs today’s displacement.
Having an unstable hotspot in the Americas is a form of self-inflicted harm. Colombia, Brazil, and Caribbean states would absorb the first shocks. The United States would face cascading consequences in migration, maritime security, energy markets, and law enforcement. Any short-term battlefield gains would be offset by long-term costs in blood, treasure, and attention, crowding out other strategic priorities.
Caracas stands defiant
Venezuelan authorities, for their part, are signaling resolve. Civil-military drills are expanding, reserve forces and civilian volunteers are being mobilised, and legal steps for emergency authorities are being prepared. The message is clear. If attacked, they will fight and aim to raise the cost curve for any foreign force. That posture does not guarantee battlefield success, but it does guarantee that any intervention would be bloody, urban, and prolonged.
What this means for risk
- High Escalation risk: Sea incidents, airspace frictions, or a lethal miscalculation could trigger rapid tit-for-tat.
- Elevated legal and political risk: Expanded executive action without a clear mandate invites domestic backlash once costs mount.
- Severe humanitarian risk: A conflict would accelerate displacement and strain regional states already managing migration pressures.
- Significant strategic risk: A new quagmire would sap U.S. bandwidth, complicate relations across Latin America, and empower spoilers.
The bottom line
The United States is drifting toward a regime-change confrontation in Venezuela under a drug-war banner that does not match the facts on trafficking flows. State collapse is easy. Picking up the pieces is close to impossible. Libya showed how exile-driven opposition can help topple a regime, struggle to govern, and ultimately leave a country in fragments, with many leaders returning abroad as instability deepens. Repeating that cycle in the Western Hemisphere would be a strategic own-goal.
Whether this is sabre-rattling or prelude remains unclear. What is obvious is the need for a course correction that prioritizes diplomacy, realistic timelines, and regional buy-in over maximalist promises. The question to ask before any further step is simple. If the state breaks, who will pick up the pieces, how, and for how long?