On September 2, 2025, the U.S. military launched missile strikes on suspected drug smuggling boats from Venezuela in the Caribbean Sea, a move President Donald Trump swiftly hailed as a decisive blow against what he described as "narcoterrorists" trafficking cocaine and fentanyl. In the days since, the strikes have drawn fierce debate—not only over their effectiveness, but also their legality and morality, as the world watches tensions rise between Washington and Caracas.
Trump’s rhetoric was as forceful as ever. According to The Intercept, he declared that those smuggling drugs into the United States "deserve death," painting a dramatic picture of a battle against shadowy cartel operatives. But the reality, as uncovered by court records, academic studies, and firsthand accounts from former prosecutors, is far less cinematic. Most of those piloting the targeted boats aren’t cartel kingpins; they’re impoverished, often unarmed fishermen from small coastal villages, lured into the dangerous trade by the promise of a payout as low as $5,000.
Sean Murphy, a former federal prosecutor in Puerto Rico who has handled dozens of smuggling cases, expressed outrage at the administration’s approach. "They are going to be sitting around their gold-plated table, in a mansion with a bunch of hippos and tigers and whatever, and say, ‘What now? Trump is blowing up boats in the south Caribbean. What now?’ And they will figure out something else," Murphy told The Intercept. He emphasized that the real traffickers view these crews as expendable, easily replaced by others desperate enough to risk the journey.
Indeed, the numbers back up his assessment. On average, according to a May article in the Federal Sentencing Reporter, 455 suspected traffickers are detained by the U.S. at sea each year, mostly in the Pacific. The typical vessel is a 10 to 20-foot open boat with three or four crew members, averaging 42 years old. These men are almost always unarmed and rarely the owners of the drugs they transport. As Phil Gunson of the International Crisis Group bluntly put it, "They are the poorest and weakest link. They are simply pawns in the operation." Federal judges have often acknowledged this, frequently handing down sentences below the guidelines since a 2018 change in sentencing laws—averaging about eight years in prison. Now, after the missile strikes, the price is death.
One of the boats targeted in the strikes was found by Dominican Republic officials to be carrying roughly 2,200 pounds of cocaine, confirming the type of cargo most commonly trafficked through the eastern Caribbean. However, Trump’s justification for the strikes—citing the need to stop the flow of fentanyl—has been widely disputed by experts. Venezuela, they note, is neither a major source nor distributor of fentanyl; cocaine is the predominant drug trafficked in the region. As Murphy noted, "In the south Caribbean, cocaine is king." Fentanyl is sometimes cut into cocaine after it reaches the United States, but Venezuelan boat crews have no role in that process.
Despite the administration’s claims, the strikes have not targeted high-level traffickers. The White House, in a statement to The Intercept, defended the actions: "It’s shameful that The Intercept is running cover for evil narcoterrorists trying to poison our homeland as over 100,000 Americans die from overdoses every year," said spokesperson Anna Kelly. "The President acted in line with the laws of armed conflict to protect our country from those trying to bring poison to our shores, and he is delivering on his promise to take on the cartels and eliminate these national security threats from murdering more Americans."
Yet, the legal justification for the strikes has been criticized by scholars and international officials alike. Murphy called the actions "murder," echoing Colombian President Gustavo Petro’s condemnation. The administration insists that traditional law enforcement interdiction was failing, but experts argue that the strikes are unlikely to have any lasting impact on the drug trade. Traffickers are known for their adaptability. "They can change the route," Gunson observed. There are already reports that traffickers are rerouting shipments through the Pacific to avoid U.S. military actions in the Caribbean.
Meanwhile, the strikes have ratcheted up tensions with Venezuela. As reported by the Latin Times, President Nicolás Maduro is now considering declaring a state of emergency—an "external national commotion"—in response to the U.S. military pressure off Venezuela’s coast. Such a declaration, under Article 338 of the Venezuelan constitution, would allow the government to suspend certain constitutional guarantees for up to 90 days, renewable once. The move would require approval by the Council of Ministers, the National Assembly, and the Constitutional Chamber of the Supreme Court, all currently controlled by Maduro loyalists.
Vice President Delcy Rodriguez has publicly backed the possible state of emergency, calling it "very pertinent in light of the threats looming over Venezuela." The Miami Herald noted that the measure is framed as a means to protect the country’s sovereignty and stability. Maduro himself stated, "that the entire nation, every citizen, has the support and protection of all forces of Venezuelan society to respond to any threat or attack against our country."
The diplomatic standoff has also played out in the realm of public messaging. Earlier this month, Maduro sent a letter to President Trump offering direct talks, but the White House quickly dismissed it as "full of lies" and reiterated its stance that Maduro’s government is illegitimate and central to drug trafficking operations in the region. During a press briefing on September 22, White House Press Secretary Karoline Leavitt confirmed, "Frankly, Maduro repeated many lies in that letter, and the position of the administration on Venezuela has not changed. We consider the Maduro regime illegitimate, and the president has made clear he is willing to use all necessary means to stop the deadly flow of drugs from Venezuela into the United States."
Some regional players are predicting that the end is near for Maduro’s government. Former Colombian Vice President Francisco Santos claimed in a September 25 interview with NTN 24 that a "final operation" to oust Maduro would occur within four to six weeks, though such predictions have come and gone before. Santos criticized Colombian President Gustavo Petro’s stance before the UN General Assembly, suggesting that "things will get complicated for" Petro when he leaves office due to his position on the U.S.-Venezuela standoff.
Back in Washington, Secretary of State Marco Rubio claimed in a September 23 CBS interview that the strikes are already having a deterrent effect, stating, "The way it’s been handled in the past hasn’t worked. And boy, let me tell you something—you’re not seeing nearly as many boats right now as you were a couple weeks ago. So it has worked and will continue to work." He added, "He’s not going to continue to allow these drug cartels to flood America with poisonous drugs that are killing our people indefinitely."
Yet, critics argue that such displays of force do little to address the underlying dynamics of the drug trade. John Walsh, director of drug policy at the Washington Office on Latin America, summed up the skepticism: "What about this new U.S. strategy of ‘kill-first, ask-questions-never’ is going to change that to fundamentally deter and transform the underlying structure and dynamics? I don’t think anything. It’s going to kill more people—as far as the big fish and kingpins of the drug trade are concerned—they couldn’t give a damn about."
As the U.S. and Venezuela dig in, the people most at risk remain the poorest and most vulnerable—the fishermen-turned-smugglers caught in the crossfire of geopolitics and the relentless demand for drugs in the United States. Whether the latest escalation will bring lasting change or simply more tragedy remains to be seen.
