In a dramatic escalation of U.S. foreign policy in Latin America, the Trump administration has unleashed a wave of military and covert operations targeting Venezuela, drawing condemnation at home and abroad and raising the specter of a wider conflict in the region. Over the past two months, the United States has ramped up its military presence in the Caribbean to levels unseen in decades, launched deadly strikes on vessels it claims are tied to drug trafficking, and authorized secretive CIA operations inside Venezuela. The stated rationale—combating narco-trafficking and protecting U.S. national security—has been met with deep skepticism from legal experts, international observers, and even some within the U.S. military establishment.
According to reporting from Al Jazeera and corroborated by InSight Crime, the military campaign began in earnest in August 2025, when the Trump administration reopened a dormant U.S. base in Puerto Rico and deployed roughly 10,000 troops to the region. This marked the largest U.S. military buildup in the Caribbean since the Cold War. By early September, Special Operations forces had conducted at least seven strikes on boats in the Caribbean, killing at least 28 people. The attacks continued into October, with two more boats bombed in the eastern Pacific, pushing the death toll to 37. The sixth attack, on September 15, targeted a semi-submersible vessel and left two survivors—neither of whom was Venezuelan. Colombian President Gustavo Petro later claimed this strike hit a Colombian fishing boat that was adrift with its distress signal up, a claim that led to a diplomatic rift and the suspension of U.S. aid to Colombia.
The Trump administration has justified these actions by asserting the U.S. is locked in a "non-international armed conflict" with Venezuelan drug cartels, even as legal scholars and international law experts question the evidence and the rationale. As The New York Times and BBC have noted, no credible proof has been provided that the targeted boats were trafficking drugs, nor that Venezuela is a significant source of fentanyl—the synthetic opioid fueling the U.S. overdose crisis. In fact, as InSight Crime reports, Venezuela is a relatively minor player in the global drug trade, with fentanyl production and trafficking dominated by Mexican cartels.
On October 15, Trump took the extraordinary step of publicly confirming a presidential finding authorizing the CIA to conduct covert operations inside Venezuela. Such authorizations, typically kept secret, can include targeted killings, sabotage, or support for rebel movements. Mick Mulroy, a former assistant undersecretary of defense, told the BBC that this move opened the way for "perhaps a real life 'Sicario'," referencing the 2015 film about extrajudicial operations against drug cartels. The implications are sobering: U.S. policy, Mulroy suggested, may now operate "with almost complete disregard for national sovereignty, the rule of law or basic human decency."
The scope of U.S. actions has not been limited to the military or intelligence realm. In March, over 200 Venezuelan immigrants were deported from the U.S. to a prison camp in El Salvador under accusations—widely dismissed as baseless—of cartel involvement. Meanwhile, the Trump administration has cut or attempted to cut funding for the U.S. Agency for International Development (USAID) and the National Endowment for Democracy (NED), organizations that have historically provided support for institution building and economic development abroad. As a result, even if regime change were achieved, the prospects for democratic transition and economic recovery in Venezuela appear grim.
The Nobel Peace Prize, awarded this year to Venezuelan opposition leader Maria Corina Machado, has added fuel to the fire. Machado, a vocal advocate for regime change and a supporter of U.S. and Israeli intervention, dedicated the prize to Donald Trump and has used the recognition to further calls for foreign-backed overthrow of the Maduro government. Critics, including UMass Boston Labor Resource Center Director Steve Striffler, argue that the Nobel Committee's decision has "provided an open invitation for Trump to continue, and even escalate, military intervention and gunboat diplomacy in Latin America." As reported by Al Jazeera, Machado's history includes organizing the 2002 coup attempt against Hugo Chavez and supporting violent anti-government tactics in subsequent years.
For its part, the Maduro regime has responded by mobilizing Venezuela's military and a 4.5-million-strong armed militia, conducting large-scale exercises and alerting the U.N. Security Council to what it describes as unprecedented violations of sovereignty. Maduro has also found support from other nations, with Cuba, China, and Brazil joining the chorus of condemnation against U.S. intervention. Colombian President Petro has gone so far as to recall his ambassador from Washington, declaring, "What Colombian would help invade where their own family lives, only to see them killed like in Gaza?"
Domestically, the Trump administration's aggressive posture has provoked resistance from both within the government and among civil society groups. Admiral Alvin Holsey, commander of U.S. forces in Latin America, resigned after less than a year in the post, reportedly over concerns about operations in Venezuela. A coalition of 108 progressive organizations has called for a congressional investigation into the legality of the strikes, citing violations of both the U.S. Constitution and international law.
Behind the rhetoric of drug interdiction and national security, many see a more familiar pattern: the pursuit of regime change to open Venezuela's vast oil reserves—the largest in the world—to foreign exploitation. Since Hugo Chavez's election in 1998, Venezuela has nationalized its oil industry and used the proceeds to fund social programs that lifted millions out of poverty. The U.S. has responded with a "hybrid war" strategy, combining economic sanctions, support for opposition groups, and now, overt military and covert action. As Jonathan Rosen and Roberto Zepeda explain, the U.S. "war on drugs" has long served as a pretext for intervention, but the current campaign is marked by a willingness to use lethal force without due process or clear legal authority.
Research by political scientists Alexander Downes and Lindsey O’Rourke suggests that covert efforts at regime change rarely succeed and often lead to prolonged conflict and deteriorating relations. Even when successful, such interventions seldom produce democratization or economic growth. Instead, they tend to exacerbate instability, poverty, and migration—problems that have already driven millions of Venezuelans to leave their homeland.
As the Trump administration pours billions into military operations abroad while slashing domestic programs, critics argue that the real needs of Americans—from healthcare to addiction treatment—are being ignored. With over 100,000 Americans dying from drug overdoses each year, the focus on Venezuela as a scapegoat appears, at best, misplaced.
The unfolding crisis in Venezuela is a stark reminder of the dangers of military escalation and the limits of force as a tool of foreign policy. The consequences—for Venezuela, the region, and the United States—are likely to reverberate for years to come.
