Dr. Dritan Hoti*
The alleged overthrow of Nicolás Maduro during the night spanning January 2 to the early hours of January 3—days traditionally reserved for the calm rituals of the New Year—has been presented by the Trump administration as a defining moment in contemporary American interventionism. Whether understood as a discrete military operation, a hybrid exercise of coercive diplomacy, or a carefully choreographed demonstration of power, the episode has been framed by its architects as a surprise maneuver whose speed, precision, and symbolic resonance were as important as its immediate political outcome.
According to President Trump, the operation unfolded with a level of secrecy and decisiveness reminiscent of special actions undertaken during the Second World War. The comparison was not accidental. It sought to anchor a modern, technology-driven intervention within a historical lineage in which the United States acted swiftly, unilaterally when necessary, and with a clear hierarchy of interests. The emphasis on surprise and spectacle—an operation reportedly executed without casualties in Caracas—was central to the message: power, when applied decisively and with overwhelming superiority, could still shape political realities without devolving into prolonged bloodshed.
The psychological dimension of this event cannot be separated from the technological environment in which it occurred. In an age dominated by visual media, real-time footage, and artificial intelligence–driven dissemination, wars are no longer confined to their geographic theaters. The horrors of the conflict in Ukraine, the distant yet brutal violence in Sudan, and the images—carefully curated or otherwise—of an American operation in Venezuela circulate through the same global networks. These images generate immediate emotional and cognitive effects on populations thousands of miles away, unifying disparate societies within a shared perceptual space. Technology and globalization have thus fused local events into global experiences, magnifying both fear and deterrence.
Within this framework, the fall of Maduro has been interpreted ideologically as a direct blow to Bolivarianism. Rooted in the legacy of Simón Bolívar, this ideology long argued that Latin America’s historical subjugation to foreign powers necessitated a unified, socialist resistance against external domination. The removal of a regime that claimed this ideological heritage signals, at least symbolically, the erosion of a narrative that portrayed the United States as an omnipresent imperial force. In its place emerges a harsher lesson: ideological cohesion alone cannot shield a state when geopolitical realities and material asymmetries converge against it.
From the American perspective, ideology intersects with geostrategy. The intervention has been widely read as a contemporary re-evocation of the Monroe Doctrine, articulated in its original form as Monroe, which posited Latin America as a sphere of vital U.S. interest. Venezuela, in this calculus, had come to be perceived as a logistical and political foothold for Chinese and Russian influence in the Western Hemisphere. Its energy sector, diplomatic alignments, and security cooperation were interpreted in Washington as elements of a broader encroachment by revisionist powers seeking to challenge American primacy close to its own shores.
Diplomatic considerations further complicated this picture. The Maduro government was viewed by U.S. policymakers as a critical supporter—both ideologically and through hydrocarbon assistance—of Cuba. In this context, the role attributed to the current Secretary of State, Marco Rubio, whose personal and political origins are deeply intertwined with the Cuban experience, takes on added significance. For American diplomacy, Caracas was not merely an isolated problem but part of a resilient network of regimes resistant to liberal democratic norms and sustained through mutual economic and ideological reinforcement.
Perhaps the most striking implication of the intervention lies in its domestic ideological consequences. By authorizing and celebrating this action, Trump appeared to detach himself from the core tenets of the MAGA movement that propelled him to power—tenets often skeptical of foreign entanglements and wary of interventionist overreach. Instead, he adopted a posture more closely aligned with the traditional Republican doctrine of assertive internationalism. This doctrine prioritizes direct American interests, the containment or removal of authoritarian challengers, and the credible threat of force as a tool of diplomacy.
This synthesis is evident in parallel signals sent beyond Latin America. Trump’s warnings to Iran’s Supreme Leader, Ali Khamenei, regarding the brutal suppression of democratic protesters, and his approval of arms supplies to Taiwan, fit within the same strategic logic. In each case, the message is consistent: authoritarian violence and revisionist ambitions will invite tangible consequences when they intersect with American interests.
The overthrow of Maduro thus functions as more than a regional recalibration. It serves to reinforce the ideological primacy of the United States as an operational superpower—one willing and able to act decisively when its essential interests are at stake. At a time of intensifying rivalry with powers that seek to revise the international order, the intervention repositions America not as a declining hegemon, but as a challenger prepared to impose costs and redefine limits.
Yet power projection alone does not complete the picture. The Trump administration has also articulated an intention for the United States to assume a temporary administrative role in Venezuela, overseeing stability until conditions emerge for a legitimate democratic transition. This ambition blends idealism with pragmatism. Democracy is presented as the endpoint, but the pathway is managed through American oversight and leverage.
Crucially, economic considerations remain central. The administration’s objective to develop Venezuelan oil through partnerships with major American corporations underscores the mercantilist and utilitarian character of Trump’s foreign policy. Intervention is justified not solely on strategic or ideological grounds, but through its capacity to generate direct economic benefits for the United States. Energy security, corporate access, and market stabilization are integrated into a single strategic vision.
In sum, the purported overthrow of Maduro—regardless of how history ultimately judges its execution or legitimacy—offers a revealing lens through which to interpret Trump’s interventionism. It is a synthesis of spectacle and strategy, ideology and interest, historical analogy and technological modernity. Above all, it reflects a worldview in which power remains the ultimate currency of international politics, and where the assertion of primacy is seen not as an anachronism, but as a necessity in an increasingly contested world.
*The author completed a PhD-dissertation in the history of international relations at the University of Vienna, Austria; an MA in Geopolitical Studies at the University of Toulouse, France; and a degree in International Relations from the University of Graz, Austria.
