In a move that has sent shockwaves through diplomatic circles and reignited old debates about covert power in the Americas, President Donald Trump has publicly confirmed that he authorized CIA operations inside Venezuela, with the possibility of on-land strikes looming. This rare admission, made on October 16, 2025, breaks with decades of tradition in which such presidential findings remained shrouded in secrecy, known only to a handful of top officials and congressional leaders. Trump’s rationale? He pointed to claims that Venezuela’s government had emptied its prisons into the United States and to alleged state-linked drug trafficking, saying, “I authorized for two reasons really. Number one, they have emptied their prisons into the United States of America… they came in through the border. The other thing are drugs.”
But the president declined to specify whether the CIA had been given the green light to “take out” Venezuelan President Nicolás Maduro, leaving the scope of the mission ambiguous. According to reporting from BORNA and Latin American Post, the CIA’s mandate could range from sabotage and influence campaigns to targeted killings—a spectrum of covert action that, as former CIA paramilitary officer Mick Mulroy told the BBC, has “really no limitations” when authorized by a presidential finding. “The parameters of the authorities are laid out in the finding,” Mulroy said, “but anything restricted by executive order can be rewritten by the same pen that signs it.”
The public nature of Trump’s announcement has drawn fierce reactions at home and abroad. Maduro, speaking on Venezuelan state television, branded the move “desperate” and “unprecedented,” noting, “They have always done it, but no previous government, since the CIA was established, has ever publicly said that it ordered the CIA to kill, overthrow, and destroy countries.” He went on to remind viewers of Cold War-era coups in Latin America attributed to US intelligence, referencing declassified CIA documents and even apologies for past interventions. “Imperialists” in the West, Maduro argued, are interested in Venezuela’s vast resources—oil, gas, and gold—and he framed the latest US actions as part of a long pattern of interference.
Since early September, the US military has ramped up its campaign in the Caribbean, destroying at least six vessels labeled as drug-running boats tied to Maduro’s government. These strikes have resulted in more than two dozen deaths, with one incident involving a Colombian vessel confirmed by Colombian President Gustavo Petro. Families in Trinidad and Tobago have also reported relatives among the dead. Trump, addressing reports of survivors from the sixth strike, stated, “We attacked a submarine, and that was a drug-carrying submarine,” though he provided no evidence regarding the vessel’s cargo. Two survivors were reportedly taken into custody, according to a Defense Department official.
Secretary of State Marco Rubio has defended the operations, asserting, “We’re undertaking these operations against narco-terrorists. That’s what these are. These are terrorists.” The Pentagon, for its part, formalized the legal framework in late September by notifying select lawmakers that the US now considers itself in a “non-international armed conflict” with drug cartels, conducting operations under the law of armed conflict. Yet, as legal analysts and some Defense Department lawyers have pointed out, drug traffickers are not recognized as combatants under US or international law, raising serious questions about the legality of these actions.
The issue of legal overreach has become a central concern for critics. As Latin American Post reports, declaring cartels like Tren de Aragua or Venezuela’s Cartel of the Suns as Foreign Terrorist Organizations does not automatically create a lawful battlefield. “The difference between law enforcement and war isn’t wordplay—it defines when lethal force is permitted, where it may be used, and under whose authority,” legal experts told the BBC. Congress, while not required to approve every covert strike, is entitled to oversight—a step critics argue is lacking in the current approach. Dexter Ingram, a former State Department official, cautioned, “Our covert history in Latin America is not always positive. We have to look at our history. It’s a slippery slope.”
Indeed, the ghosts of past CIA interventions—Guatemala in 1954, Chile in 1973—continue to haunt the region, where covert action is often associated with destabilization and distrust rather than surgical precision. Marc Polymeropoulos, a 26-year CIA veteran, told the BBC that operating covertly inside Venezuela “without the cooperation of the Venezuelan government” is “different—and more dangerous.” Such operations, he warned, could rally Venezuelans around Maduro, fracture opposition coalitions, and potentially draw neighboring countries into confrontation.
Meanwhile, the military buildup has continued. On October 15, three US Air Force B-52 bombers flew for over four hours off Venezuela’s coast, at one point coming within 53 miles of La Orchila Island and about 132 miles from the mainland. These flights followed the series of maritime strikes and coincided with heightened tensions within the Pentagon. Adm. Alvin Holsey, the US Southern Command chief overseeing the Caribbean theater, announced his retirement after only a year in the role, amid reported friction with Defense Secretary Pete Hegseth over the pace of operations and legal risks. Pentagon lawyers have also voiced concerns about the legality of the strikes.
The Trump administration has tied its campaign to both drugs and migration. About 770,000 Venezuelans lived in the US as of 2023, and in October 2025, the Supreme Court sided with the administration to terminate temporary protected status for Venezuelans, clearing the way for immediate deportations. Yet a secret intelligence assessment from April concluded that Maduro’s regime does not operate directly with the notorious Tren de Aragua gang—a finding that led to the firing of the report’s authors by Director of National Intelligence Tulsi Gabbard. US drug data indicate that only a small share of fentanyl comes from Venezuela, and less than 10% of US-bound cocaine transits the eastern Caribbean off Venezuela’s coast.
On the Venezuelan side, Maduro has militarized 20 of 23 states under exercises dubbed Independence 200, claiming to have mobilized “more than 8 million” reservists—a figure experts have questioned. He also issued an “external commotion” decree to expand his emergency powers and appealed to the UN Security Council to declare the US boat strikes illegal. “Our people are clear, united, and aware,” he said, denouncing US actions as a conspiracy against Venezuela’s peace and stability.
Diplomatic efforts have faltered. The New York Times reported that Maduro offered sweeping economic concessions, including preferential access to Venezuelan oil for US firms and a promise to curb sales to China. Yet Washington rejected the deal over disagreements about Maduro’s political future. In August, Trump raised the bounty for Maduro’s arrest to $50 million, and earlier this month, he ended talks led by special envoy Richard Grenell. The administration had previously backed opposition leader Juan Guaidó’s unsuccessful 2019 bid to take power.
In a final twist, the 2025 Nobel Peace Prize—which Trump had openly sought—was awarded instead to María Corina Machado for her advocacy of democratic rights in Venezuela and her “determined pursuit of a peaceful shift from dictatorship to democracy.”
As the US edges further into the shadows of covert action, the debate over legality, transparency, and historical memory has returned to center stage. The law, as one former intelligence legal adviser told the BBC, “is not an obstacle to effectiveness; it’s a compass. Ignore it, and you lose direction.” Whether this new era of overt covert action will bring stability, or simply repeat the mistakes of the past, remains to be seen.
