Neither the European Union, nor NATO, nor even traditional partners in Latin America were consulted. The decision was taken behind closed doors, as if U.S. foreign policy had ceased to be an instrument of global leadership and had instead become an extension of the domestic interests of the Trump administration.
The operation to capture Nicolás Maduro carried out by the Trump administration opened a deep fracture in the already fragile edifice of International Law. Since 1945, the global order has rested on a simple, albeit imperfect, principle: no state may use force on the territory of another without a clear mandate from the United Nations or consensus among allies. The postwar architecture, with all its contradictions, was designed precisely to prevent major powers from acting unilaterally, guided solely by their immediate interests. By proceeding with an operation of this nature without prior consultation, Trump called into question America’s relationship with every country in the world, but above all with the Western liberal democracies with which it shares defensive and value-based alliances.
The justification presented, namely the execution of a U.S. judicial warrant against a drug trafficker, violates too many legal principles to be fully listed here. The idea of state sovereignty is inseparable from the idea of jurisdiction. Even for those who believe it is right to remove Maduro from power because he is an illegitimate leader, there are many problems with the military extraction and detention of the Venezuelan leader. International law does not operate according to the logic that “the ends justify the means.” If it did, every regional power would feel legitimized to intervene wherever it saw fit, always in the name of a greater good defined by itself. The boundary between defending freedom and the arbitrary imposition of power would become indistinguishable. It is precisely this boundary that the operation in Venezuela blurred.
Even more serious was the absence of any coordination with historical allies. Neither the European Union, nor NATO, nor even traditional partners in Latin America were consulted. The decision was taken behind closed doors, as if U.S. foreign policy had ceased to be an instrument of global leadership and had instead become an extension of the domestic interests of the Trump administration. The so-called Pax Americana, which for decades was based on the idea that Washington used its military and economic power to ensure a relatively stable and benign international order, now appears weakened. A hegemonic power that acts without seeking external legitimacy ceases to be a guardian of order and becomes merely another actor competing for influence. And if its values are flawed, the military power of the strongest is used for harmful ends.
The short-term gains, the possible destabilization of the Venezuelan regime or the demonstration of force, are minimal when compared to the long-term costs. Among allies, distrust takes hold: if an operation of this kind can be launched without warning, what other decisions might be taken in the same way? Among adversaries, the narrative that the United States is no longer a predictable guarantor of international rules is reinforced. In the rest of the world, the perception grows that the liberal order is being eroded from within its own center. The conditions are thus created for attacks by extremist groups.
The timid reaction of European governments is understandable, though embarrassing for public opinion. Military dependence on the United States remains structural, and Trump’s political style, often described as punitive toward those who oppose him, discourages direct diplomatic confrontation. But silence comes at a cost. There will come a moment when the risk of not speaking will be greater than the risk of speaking clearly. When that day arrives, the countries of the European Union and the United Kingdom will have to decide whether they want to remain mere spectators of an eroding international order or whether they are willing to assume responsibility for trying to defend it.
João Borges de Assunção, Professor at CATÓLICA-LISBON