What’s Dying in Caracas

With the attack on Venezuela, Trump believes he’s showing strength, when in reality he’s destroying the only resource that the U.S. had left: legitimacy.

This morning, the U.S. bombed Caracas. Donald Trump announced on Truth Social that Nicolás Maduro had been captured and taken out of the country. There will be a press conference in Mar-a-Lago. This isn’t Yemen or Somalia. This is Latin America. The first direct military intervention by the U.S. in a Latin American capital since Panama in 1989. There’s history here: the Monroe doctrine, the “backyard,” the interventions of the 20th century. That was supposed to have ended. What does this mean for international order? What dies today along with Venezuela’s sovereignty? The fiction of a rule-based order.

If the head of the Western world can bomb a capital city and kidnap a head of state, on what basis is Vladimir Putin being condemned for Ukraine? Trump hasn’t legitimized Russia by bombing Caracas. In reality, he never condemned Russia. What he has done is disarm those who did. The paradox is that Trump believes he’s showing strength, when in reality he’s destroying the only resource that the U.S. had left: legitimacy. For decades, American hegemony was sustained not just by its military capacity, but mainly by its ambition to represent something more than pure power. That is over. The U.S. always violated international law when it suited it, but kept up the pretense of respecting the law. It made excuses, sought alliances and went through the United Nations Security Council, despite later ignoring the council. That pretense was important: That was what allowed others to invoke it. Now the U.S. doesn’t even pretend.
We’re going back to the 19th century: areas of influence, no universal rules. The concert of great powers where each one does what it wants in their own region, without any potential opposing arguments – simply a correlation of forces. But what this morning shows is not just a change in the international order; it’s a transformation of the very nature of American power demonstrated in all its brutality, without pretense. The official reason is drug trafficking. But the context is different. Trump isn’t saying “Let’s bring democracy.” He’s saying, “Let’s defend our civilization.” And that difference matters. Democracy is a universal principle, one that anyone can aspire to, that anyone can invoke and to which anyone can demand adherence. “Civilization” is another thing. It’s a marker of belonging. You are either in or you are out. You don’t aspire to it; you are born into it.

Democratic rhetoric, while hypocritical, was expandable; everyone can be democratic. Rhetoric that addresses civilization is exclusionary: Us against the brutes. And most egregiously is democracy used as an interlocutor, a political individual with rights. Civilization turns the other into an object. Maduro isn’t a dictator who must be overthrown through pressure or transition, but rather Venezuela is a barbaric territory, outside of civilization, that can be bombed without any explanation.

Today, the separation between public and private is also dying. Previous interventions served economic interests, but at least a formal distinction existed between the state and the president’s business. Trump eliminated this. Venezuela has the largest oil reserves in the world. Trump doesn’t beat around the bush: “We want it back.” He gave the press conference at his private club. And there’s something else: exhibitionism as an end in itself. Past interventions sought results (change of regime, stability, allies); this one is in search of an image of strength. What’s next for Maduro? It’s not clear and it probably doesn’t matter. The goal was the spectacle.

And while this is happening, avoidance. Spain's President Pedro Sánchez speaks of an “intervention that violates international law breach of international law” without identifying the violator. And he’s calling for a “fair and negotiated transition,” criticizing the method but accepting the result. María Corina Machado, recipient of the Nobel Peace Prize in 2025, backs the operation. Brazil's President Lula de Silva condemns it. Colombian President Gustavo Petro is calling for meetings with NATO and the Organization of American States, but why? Nowadays international institutions resemble instruments of power more than limitations on it. Who isn’t keeping quiet is Argentina's President Javier Milei; he is celebrating the bombing on social media.

And Europe? It is publishing statements. Kaja Kallas, vice president of the European Commission, announced that she spoke with Marco Rubio (with whom Trump coordinated the operation), but not with the victims, with NATO or with Petro. And she added that “the principles of international law and the U.N. Charter must be respected,” but she didn’t say by whom. Although she doesn’t condemn the bombing, she does ask for “restraint” without referring to anyone in particular. She also remarks that Maduro “lacks legitimacy”; that is, she offers a moral alibi. The perfect statement: complicity, with diplomatic syntax. Why? Perhaps because Europe needs the U.S. because of Ukraine and can’t afford to clash with Trump. So it puts up with it. But every gesture of false neutrality increases the room for maneuvering for those acting without rules. What we validate for convenience today will be standard procedure tomorrow. If we offer moral justification for the bombing of Caracas because Maduro “deserves it,” that mechanism is already available for any other situation.

When the hegemon leaves legitimacy behind, only strength remains. And that, according to ancient Greek historian and general Thucydides, is not a sign of power. That’s a symptom of decline. Trump believes that he showed strength. But, in reality, he confirmed something much more serious: The U.S. no longer offers rules, legitimacy or prospects. Just a capacity to cause damage. And when that’s all that is left, decadence is no longer a theory, it’s a fact.