Let me introduce a hypothetical situation. Alex is an eleven-year-old who runs a lemonade stand outside his house. His backyard lemon tree is the best in the neighbourhood and keeps the stand well-supplied. The business is steady enough to last as long as Alex wants to keep at it. 

Now, Alex is not a perfect businessman. His stand sometimes gets messy and his way of doing things draws the occasional complaint. 

But, in the midst of this enters Brandon, an older, bigger teenager from three blocks away, with a reputation for getting what he wants. He isn’t interested in simply buying lemonade. He wants the entire operation, including the tree, the stand, and everything else that Alex has built. The most that Alex might get out of this is a token cut of future profits, but nothing close to a fair share. 

Expectedly, Alex refuses. So, Brandon decides to turn more hostile. He blocks customers, intimidates anyone who tries to buy lemonade, and announces to the whole neighbourhood that the stand is ‘closed’ by his authority, despite it being neither his street nor property. 

Brandon’s behaviour seems absurdly dramatic, doesn’t it? When it’s just children, the damage may perhaps not stretch for too long. But when this kind of bullying plays out on a global stage, where bilateral and multilateral relations are constantly struggling to stay in balance, the consequences can quickly spiral out of control.

And that is precisely what the US is doing to Venezuela. It is now beyond what one may call a ‘neighbourhood dispute’. 

The world’s largest and most sophisticated aircraft carrier, USS Gerald R. Ford, now prowls the Caribbean waters with an armada of destroyers, submarines, and fighter jets. The stage is being set for a full-fledged attack. The US President, Donald Trump, told reporters on Tuesday that the country will soon start striking its targets inside Venezuela. The deployment includes 15,000 troops which is more substantial than any American military presence in the region since 1989’s invasion of Panama. Strikes outside of Venezuelan land already began in September, with at least 21 completed by the US since then. This has killed more than 83 people. 

What is driving the American interest in Venezuela? The official justification is, of course, pointing to drug trafficking. The reality becomes clearer when you look at American foreign policy — and in recent times, that of Trump specifically — closely. Everything boils down to what you can offer, and how charmingly you can offer it. 

A Transactional Presidency

Trump's second term has been marked by a transactional reality. Recent investigations by Zeteo and reporting across multiple outlets have exposed an utterly bizarre pattern that makes you wonder what's become of diplomacy. Countries that lavish Trump with valuable gifts have almost always received immediate and tangible policy rewards. For instance, Switzerland's delegation of billionaires gave Trump a Rolex desk clock and a personalised 1 kg gold bar worth $130,000. This was followed by the US dropping tariffs from 39% to 15% for the Swiss. Another example is the Boeing 747 jetliner that Qatar gave Trump as his new Air Force One. In return, the Qataris became the first customer for America's advanced counter-drone defense system.

These are only two examples. As Axios reported, "Trump loves such pampering, and the word's out among nations and companies seeking his favour. Tributes fit for a king — especially gold — catch his eyes and his heart." The gifts Trump received are worth 100 times more than the combined value of gifts received by every other US President since 2001. This is not diplomatic protocol. To put it simply, it's corruption passing off as normalcy in daylight.

This now brings us to Venezuela. This country has not paid any tribute to Trump. Nor has it flattered him sufficiently. Most importantly, Venezuela possesses resources that Trump and his allies desperately want to control. It has a lot to offer. But the country has sworn to defy the norm of subservience that America has long demanded from others.

When 'Peace' Precedes War

There are very few ironies that beat this one. In October 2025, the Norwegian Nobel Committee awarded its Peace Prize to Maria Corina Machado, a Venezuelan opposition leader who is better known as the country's version of Margaret Thatcher. The far right leader's allegiance to Trump is no secret. She dedicated her prize to the American President and even called him worthy of future Nobel consideration. Machado has been an active campaigner for increased American pressure on Venezuela, even supporting the military buildup and framework that legitimises the killing of Venezuelan citizens at sea as 'narcotraficantes' rather than human beings entitled to due process.

A Peace Prize winner endorsing military strikes and helping escalate violence — this is some twisted logic, but befitting of the kinds of intervention that gets an easy nod in international politics these days. As long as you justify your act as warranted in the name of democracy and human rights, your invasion will be called a liberation.

But, the streets of Caracas are ready to defy the US-led chants for 'liberation'. Tens of thousands of Venezuelans took to the streets in a loud and unambiguous rejection of what they see as impending invasion. The crowd was addressed by President Nicolas Maduro, wielding Simon Bolivar's sword, and said, "We do not want a slave’s peace, nor the peace of colonies! Colony, never! Slaves, never!" He also accused the US of sparking "psychological terrorism" against Venezuela. Maduro added: "We have endured 22 weeks of aggression. These 22 weeks have put us to the test, and the people of Venezuela have demonstrated their love for the homeland." The people coming out against American aggression in Caracas know that the spectre of imperial domination that looms close is one that must be warded off at any cost. They cannot have their futures decided by foreign powers, with the West extracting all of Venezuela's oil wealth for a few MNCs while the people themselves continue living the 'little' lives that smaller countries are, for some reason, 'destined' for.

303: Too Big a Number to Forgo

Would a gold bar, like the Swiss gift, from Maduro to Trump solve this issue? Most likely not. Because Venezuela is no Switzerland or Qatar. These countries could buy favourable treatment because what they wanted aligned with what Trump was willing to sell. But Venezuela's gifts, even in its best extravagance, would not suffice as payment, unless it is willing to pledge its sovereignty, oil, and future — all that Trump intends to take by force than purchase right now.

Venezuela is an irresistible target for the US because of its oil reserves which is the largest proven stock on Earth, amounting to around 300 billion barrels. This is 18% of the world's total petroleum reserves and five times that possessed by the United States. Venezuela is followed only by Saudi Arabia with 267 billion barrels and Iran with 209 billion.

Venezuela's oil reserves are concentrated primarily in the Orinoco Belt, a vast region that spans nearly 55,000 square kilometres. Most of it is extra-heavy crude. This is thick, viscous, and difficult (also expensive) to extract. Specialised refining capabilities, like many US Gulf Coast refineries were designed to handle, are required for such extraction. And the US needs heavy crude. What it currently has in domestic production is suitable only for gasoline.

Trump's public justification however centers on drug interdiction. The administration labelled the Cartel de los Soles, an alleged network of corrupt Venezuelan officials, as a foreign terrorist organization, giving itself what it argues is legal authority to conduct military operations. Yet, according to reports, Trump’s own intelligence agencies informed lawmakers that Tren de Aragua — the gang he repeatedly invokes — has no proven ties to Maduro’s government.

If it really was an anti-drug crusade, why would the US deploy its most lethal combat platform? Latin American leaders are on alert for any possibly spillovers in case the attack on Venezuela materialises into a full-fledged capture. Colombia's President Gustavo Petro went on to warn, "Do not threaten our sovereignty, because you will awaken the jaguar."

Even if, in the worst case possible, Maduro falls, the future of Venezuela is far from clear. Trump does not show any interest in helping stabilise Venezuela. Lessons from Iraq, Afghanistan, and all other countries where a forced regime change was anticipated, should inform us better. The power vacuums, factional violence, economic collapse, and humanitarian disasters that follow these 'democratic' missions are enough proof for the failure of interventions.

American appetite for nation-building dissipates sooner than a wisp of air.