The idea that Donald Trump is orchestrating a complex, strategic chess game in Venezuela is a misconception. Many are celebrating a groundbreaking event—Venezuelan opposition figures and supporters worldwide are hopeful, but the reality remains complicated, especially for those still inside the country. Meanwhile, citizens who have fled—particularly in places like Madrid, Buenos Aires, and Miami—are celebrating more openly, as these haven cities are home to large Venezuelan communities that have left a country once considered the wealthiest in the Western Hemisphere, now impoverished under an oppressive dictatorship.
Recently, Nicolás Maduro, the long-standing autocratic ruler of Venezuela, was taken out of power—arrested during a covert operation and brought before an American court. And that’s undeniably good news. But, and here’s where it gets controversial, the narrative does not stop there. As usual in the world of political maneuvers involving Donald Trump, the story is far from straightforward. Immediately following Maduro’s removal, Trump dismissed the operation as a move driven solely by oil interests. At his initial press conference, mere hours after Maduro’s arrest, Trump stated that the purpose of the raid was to gain control over Venezuela’s oil resources, and he criticized María Corina Machado, a pro-democracy advocate and recent Nobel Peace Prize nominee, claiming she lacked the respect necessary to lead Venezuela.
Expectations placed on Secretary of State Marco Rubio were perhaps unrealistic. Having once been a passionate supporter of democracy in Cuba, Rubio’s stance shifted during his alliance with Trump, focusing more on interests than ideological commitments. Following the operation, Rubio’s media appearances echoed Trump’s narrative, emphasizing oil interests over democratic aspirations—highlighting how U.S. policy priorities often seem driven by resource control rather than promoting genuine freedom.
Indeed, Trump’s approach to Venezuela reflects a broader geopolitical philosophy rooted in power struggles and influence spheres—an approach reminiscent of the conflicts that led to two devastating world wars in the previous century. Under this framework, the United States aims to dominate the Western Hemisphere, Russia seeks to extend its influence over Ukraine and European regions, and China concentrates on Taiwan and parts of Asia, resisting U.S. interference. Trump’s actions, such as undermining aid to Ukraine or pushing a peace plan seemingly drafted by Moscow, reveal a focus on strategic gains rather than global stability—though Ukraine’s resistance remains a bright spot.
It’s worth questioning whether Trump truly has any grand vision—not just playing five-dimensional chess—but perhaps acting impulsively, consuming pieces and ignoring the bigger picture. Critics argue that his supporters’ belief in Trump’s cunning is often misplaced, equating to bewilderment when their expectations of a master strategist are proved wrong.
Turning to international law, I do not intend to criticize the U.S. for removing Maduro. Maduro, after all, was a dictatorship that repeatedly violated agreements—including a 2023 deal with the Biden administration that proposed lifting sanctions in exchange for democratic reforms—yet he refused to step down voluntarily. Dictatorships like those in Russia, Cuba, Iran, Belarus, and Uganda have long maintained power through oppression, violence, and destabilization. In such cases, regime change should be seen as a necessary response to heinous regimes, even if the aftermath remains uncertain. History shows us that tyrants can fall, and, often, hope emerges where despair once reigned.
Concerns have been raised that such actions might encourage other authoritarian powers—Russia and China—to escalate their aggressive pursuits. These nations—who have shown clear disdain for the rule of law—may take actions like attacking Ukraine or suppressing protests in Hong Kong, knowing that their own violations are tolerated or ignored. The official protests from Moscow and Beijing are largely hypocritical, exposing their inability or unwillingness to abide by international standards, especially when they benefit from the chaos or the lack of repercussions.
Many argue that Ukraine and Taiwan are different: they are recognized as sovereign democracies with elected leaders. Maduro, on the other hand, seized power illegitimately by force and has maintained it through violence and corruption. Initially, Trump focused on Maduro’s narco-trafficking, but later made it about oil interests. Still, supporting democratic resistance worldwide is an essential role for democratic nations like the United States. It’s been a core principle since the days of Truman and Reagan—even if Trump’s motivations sometimes seem driven more by self-interest than ideals.
Apathy and fear among Western nations enable authoritarian regimes to thrive. When the West fails to respond decisively, dictatorsness like Putin’s collapsing mafia state, or Iran and Cuba’s regimes brewing repression and terror, feel empowered to act aggressively. Without consequences, the rule of law becomes a hollow concept.
While many appreciate the notion of the U.S. stepping back from the role of global policeman—acknowledging the pitfalls of previous interventions in Afghanistan and Iraq—both Obama’s withdrawal and Trump’s chaotic “America First” policies have demonstrated the dangers of vacuums in leadership. These approaches often result in chaos, allowing authoritarian regimes to expand unchecked. In this analogy, Trump resembles a corrupt cop—sometimes breaking heads, but primarily protecting his own interests. If you believe Maduro deserved his fate, but question the way it was executed and who benefits, remember the wise words from history: sometimes doing the right thing with questionable motives is better than doing the wrong thing with noble intentions.
Focusing on Venezuela, María Corina Machado remains the most popular opposition figure. Her affiliate, Edmundo González, won convincingly in the 2024 presidential elections—only for Maduro to ignore the vote, imprison opposition leaders, and seek support from regimes in Cuba, Iran, and Russia. Machado has avoided aligning with leftist regional allies like Brazil’s Lula or Colombia’s Petro intentionally, perhaps hoping that a stronger relationship with the U.S. could help restore democracy. She even publicly praised Trump amidst his threats toward Maduro, likely hoping to secure American backing.
However, Trump’s administration dismissed her, prioritizing their interests in installing a more pliant leader—namely Delcy Rodríguez, Maduro’s vice president, known for her hardline stance—who would serve U.S. oil interests instead of fostering democratic change.
Many experts warn that replacing Maduro with another authoritarian who simply shares the U.S.’s profit motives risks disaster. The U.S. isn't the moral beacon it once claimed to be; instead, it’s increasingly seen as a power seeking to exploit weaker nations for its gain. Venezuelans have suffered enough—they deserve the chance to forge their own future without foreign puppeteering.
As someone who personally awarded Machado and González the 2025 Heroes of Democracy award last year, I can attest to their commitment. Machado, in her acceptance speech, eloquently stated, “We are all united in this common struggle against the enemies of freedom, wherever they may be.” This universal fight for liberty should be a message that resonates—not just for Venezuela, but for all nations striving for true democracy.
President Trump, take note: the fight against tyranny isn’t just a distant concern—it’s a challenge that calls for genuine leadership and unwavering support. Our actions now will shape the future of freedom worldwide, or risk surrendering to the very forces we seek to oppose.
