In the shadow of decades of American foreign intervention, the United States finds itself once again at the center of global scrutiny. From the devastation of Hiroshima and Nagasaki in 1945 to the drawn-out wars in Vietnam, Afghanistan, and Iraq, U.S. military campaigns have left indelible marks on the world. Now, as the Trump administration intensifies its stance against Venezuela and maintains unwavering support for Israel’s actions in Gaza, echoes of history reverberate—raising questions about motives, methods, and the price of power.
The U.S. has long justified its military involvements with claims of existential threats and humanitarian imperatives. Yet, as chronicled by multiple sources, these justifications often unravel under closer inspection. According to reporting published on November 10, 2025, by Responsible Statecraft and other outlets, the pattern is striking: wars are sold to the public through intense campaigns, sometimes built on shaky foundations. Former Vice President Richard Cheney’s 2002 speech, for instance, declared, “There is no doubt that Saddam Hussein now has weapons of mass destruction.” This assertion, delivered at a Veterans of Foreign Wars convention, was pivotal in launching the 2003 Iraq War—a conflict that would claim over 4,400 American lives, wound nearly 32,000 more, and cost upwards of $3 trillion. The regional consequences, from insurgency to the rise of ISIS, continue to be felt today.
This historical backdrop looms over current U.S. foreign policy, especially as the Trump administration’s approach to Venezuela draws uncomfortable parallels. According to Responsible Statecraft, the Trump team has relied on preemptive messaging and selective use of intelligence, much like the Bush administration did in Iraq. Trump has accused Venezuelan President Nicolás Maduro of operating in concert with criminal gangs such as Tren de Aragua, equating these groups with terrorist organizations. However, these claims have been contradicted by the U.S. intelligence community, whose assessments were reportedly sidelined—and whose dissenting officials were subsequently fired.
Such actions have not gone unnoticed. Analysts point out that the Trump administration’s willingness to dismiss or punish those who challenge its narrative surpasses even the Bush era’s suppression of dissent. The National Security Council, once the nerve center of policy deliberation, has been described as disorganized and hollowed out by political purges and impulsive leadership. This chaos, observers argue, undermines thoughtful decision-making and raises the specter of rash military engagement. “The Trump administration is more ruthless than Bush’s ever was in making life difficult for anyone who dares to question its assertions,” Responsible Statecraft notes.
But Venezuela is not the only arena where U.S. power is being flexed. In West Asia, the U.S. has been a steadfast supporter of Israel since the state’s founding in 1948. This alliance has had far-reaching consequences, especially for the Palestinian territories. As reported by The Cradle, the U.S. has supplied Israel with advanced weaponry—including aircraft and cluster bombs used in Lebanon during the civil war from 1975 to 1990—enabling military operations that have been widely condemned. The current conflict in Gaza, which began on October 7, 2023, has seen over 70,000 Palestinians killed, a toll that critics attribute to both Israeli aggression and U.S. complicity.
President Trump’s motivations for supporting Israel’s campaign in Gaza are multifaceted. While he has spoken of transforming Gaza into “the Riviera of the Middle East,” media investigations suggest economic incentives are also in play. Gaza’s offshore natural gas reserves, valued at up to $4 billion annually, have attracted international attention. As The Cradle reports, “Taking over Gaza and its gas reserves will not be possible with the presence of the Palestinian grassroots and resistance groups.” This, they argue, has fueled the drive for a “merciless war” against the enclave, with the U.S. seen as a critical enabler.
The strategy of using economic pressure and political division is not new. Since 2007, the U.S. and Israel have imposed a stifling siege on Gaza, while also supporting efforts to divide Palestinian factions Fatah and Hamas. The aim, critics say, is to weaken resistance and pave the way for broader geopolitical ambitions. Similar tactics have been deployed in Venezuela, where economic sanctions and support for opposition figures like María Corina Machado have sought to undermine President Maduro’s government. The U.S. has repeatedly threatened military action, citing unsubstantiated links to drug trafficking, but many analysts see these moves as driven by a desire to control Venezuela’s vast oil wealth and to roll back leftist influence in Latin America.
Solidarity among the targets of U.S. intervention is growing. The late Venezuelan leader Hugo Chávez, and his successor Nicolás Maduro, have consistently framed the Palestinian and Venezuelan struggles as part of a shared anti-imperialist front. “The Bolivarian revolution from day one stood by the side of the Palestinian people in their memorable struggle against the genocidal state of Israel,” Chávez declared in 2009. Maduro has called the Palestinian cause “the most sacred cause of humanity.” For many in both countries, the fight against U.S. interventionism is seen as a defense of sovereignty and self-determination.
Domestically, American public opinion on these interventions is deeply polarized. Recent polling by the Institute for Global Affairs at Eurasia Group shows that 44% of Americans support attacks on Latin American drug cartels without congressional authorization, while 42% oppose them. The split is even sharper along party lines: 79% of Republicans are in favor, compared to 73% of Democrats against. On military support for Israel, a third of Democrats believe the U.S. should withdraw support, while a similar proportion of Republicans advocate for unconditional backing. These divisions reflect broader disagreements over America’s role in the world—whether to prioritize military strength and national security or to champion democracy and human rights.
Trump’s “America First” rhetoric has found resonance with many voters, especially those weary of “forever wars.” Yet, as the U.S. wages war on drug cartels and hints at regime change in Venezuela, the contradictions of this approach become apparent. Despite his campaign promises to avoid new conflicts, Trump’s actions—bombing Iranian nuclear sites, targeting alleged drug boats, and threatening intervention in Nigeria—suggest a willingness to use military force, often without congressional approval. The legacy of Iraq looms large, a cautionary tale of unintended consequences and lasting instability.
In the end, the debate over U.S. foreign policy is not just about strategy or ideology. It’s about the lives affected, the regions destabilized, and the values professed versus those practiced. As history repeats itself in new theaters, the world—and America—must reckon with the costs of intervention and the challenges of forging a more peaceful path.
