On March 7, 2026, President Donald Trump stood before a gathering of leaders from across the Caribbean and Latin America at the inaugural “Shield of the Americas” summit. The event, held with much fanfare, was billed as the launch of a new coalition—one committed, in Trump’s words, “to using lethal military force to destroy the sinister cartels and terrorist networks once and for all.” Yet, beneath the grand rhetoric and the flags of many nations, a far more complex—and controversial—story has been unfolding.
According to The Progressive, this summit was just the latest step in an aggressive campaign by the Trump administration to reshape U.S. foreign policy in the Western Hemisphere and beyond. Since September 2025, the U.S. has launched 47 airstrikes on suspected drug boats in the Caribbean Sea and eastern Pacific Ocean, resulting in the extrajudicial killing of at least 163 civilians. These actions, carried out without Congressional approval, have drawn sharp criticism from both domestic and international observers.
Despite the administration’s tough talk on narcoterrorism, Trump’s approach has raised eyebrows for its apparent selectivity. In 2024, he pardoned former Honduran President Juan Orlando Hernández, who had been convicted of accepting bribes and enabling the export of more than 400 tons of cocaine to the United States. The move left many questioning the sincerity of Trump’s anti-drug crusade. As The Progressive noted, “None of Trump’s crusade against narcoterrorism is actually about drugs, crime, or terrorism.” Instead, critics allege, it’s a continuation of a political playbook that dates back to Richard Nixon’s infamous “War on Drugs.”
Historical echoes abound. John Ehrlichman, a top Nixon aide, once admitted, “We knew we couldn’t make it illegal to be either against the war or Black, but by getting the public to associate the hippies with marijuana and Blacks with heroin, and then criminalizing both heavily, we could disrupt those communities. Did we know we were lying about the drugs? Of course we did.” Critics argue that Trump is using similar tactics—targeting political opponents under the guise of combating crime and terrorism.
The case of Venezuela provides a striking example. In 2025, Trump accused Venezuelan President Nicolás Maduro of leading the so-called “Cartel de los Soles,” a shadowy network alleged to be involved in the drug trade. Despite expert consensus that the cartel is not a formal organization, the Trump administration designated it a Foreign Terrorist Organization. This move paved the way for a U.S. invasion of Venezuela, the kidnapping of Maduro, and his subsequent trial in the United States. Yet, as The Progressive reported, the Department of Justice has since dropped the claim that the “Cartel de los Soles” is a real organization, casting doubt on the justification for the military action.
The pattern has not stopped with Venezuela. Cuban President Miguel Díaz-Canel is now in the administration’s crosshairs. On January 29, 2026, Trump designated Cuba as an “unusual and extraordinary threat” due to its alleged ties with transnational terrorist groups. The U.S. oil embargo has pushed the island to the brink of economic collapse, with officials signaling that military intervention could be next. For many, this is less about fighting terrorism and more about leveraging American power to force regime change and compliance with U.S. interests.
But the Trump administration’s reach extends far beyond Latin America. According to The Intercept, Trump has embroiled the U.S. in more than 20 military interventions, armed conflicts, and wars during his five-plus years in office. These range from drone strikes and ground raids to full-scale conflicts and proxy wars. U.S. Special Operations forces—over 6,500 “operators and enablers”—are now deployed in more than 80 countries around the world.
The list of theaters where U.S. forces are active is staggering: Afghanistan, Central African Republic, Cameroon, Ecuador, Egypt, Iran, Iraq, Kenya, Lebanon, Libya, Mali, Niger, Nigeria, North Korea, Pakistan, the Philippines, Somalia, Syria, Tunisia, Venezuela, Yemen, and even an undisclosed Indo-Pacific nation. In the Middle East, the war in Iran has raged for over a month, involving more than 40,000 U.S. troops, additional Marines, and paratroopers from the 82nd Airborne Division. The USS Gerald R. Ford carrier strike group had to leave the fight after a fire on board, underscoring the scale and unpredictability of these operations.
Yet, despite the breadth of U.S. military activity, the Trump administration has consistently sidestepped Congressional oversight. Katherine Yon Ebright, counsel at the Brennan Center’s Liberty and National Security Program, explained to The Intercept, “Congress has not authorized conflicts in this wide array of contexts, and indeed many lawmakers—to say nothing of members of the public—would be surprised to learn that hostilities have taken place in many of these countries.” She added, “Congressional authorization isn’t just a box-checking exercise: It’s a means of ensuring that the solemn decision to go to war is made democratically and accountably, with a clear purpose and goal that the American people can support.”
Instead, the administration has relied on legal workarounds like the 127e authority, enacted after the September 11 attacks, and covert action statutes that allow the CIA to conduct secret wars. These mechanisms have enabled U.S. forces to arm, train, and direct foreign militaries on U.S.-designed missions—sometimes without the knowledge or consent of Congress. During Trump’s first term alone, there were at least 23 separate 127e programs worldwide.
The human cost of these operations has been high. In Yemen, U.S. airstrikes hit a migrant detention center; in Iran, an elementary school was destroyed. Operation Southern Spear, the campaign targeting boats in the Caribbean and Pacific, has destroyed 49 vessels and killed more than 160 civilians, including a strike on March 25, 2026, that left four dead. The strikes have even moved onto land, with “bilateral kinetic actions” along the Colombia-Ecuador border, resulting in civilian casualties and unexploded ordnance in rural areas.
Trump’s rhetoric has only heightened concerns. He has threatened to seize Iran’s oilfields, annex Greenland, and carry out military strikes in Mexico. On his social media platform, he went so far as to threaten to “blow up and completely obliterate all of [Iran’s] Electric Generating Plants, Oil Wells and Kharg Island (and possibly all desalinization plants!).” The Pentagon, meanwhile, has requested $200 billion in supplemental funds for the Iran war, with the ultimate cost projected to run into the trillions.
Sarah Harrison, a former associate general counsel at the Pentagon, summed up the unease felt by many: “While Trump claims to be the president of peace, he is actually the conflict-in-chief, waging many pointless and deadly wars, ensuring generational animosity towards a rogue U.S.” She continued, “His actions are not just unconstitutional and in violation of international law, they make Americans less safe and their wallets less full.”
As the Trump administration expands its military footprint—and its definition of enemies—questions about accountability, legality, and the true aims of U.S. foreign policy have only grown louder. For many in the region and at home, the stakes could not be higher.
The world watches as the United States, under Trump’s leadership, redefines the boundaries of war and peace—often blurring the lines between the two, with consequences that may echo for generations to come.