By Anil Raman
American B-52 bombers heading toward Venezuela herald President Donald Trump’s first foreign war. One that his administration claims is a “non-international armed conflict” and not a war. Trump is exploiting his domestic base’s anger with the cartels flooding the US with fentanyl. In truth, he is toppling the communist regime in Venezuela, which has immense natural riches but plays little part in the fentanyl drug trade, for domestic gains. He is unlikely to be seen as a warmonger, though, having consistently played the role of a peacemaker. Thus, to gain support for his war and maintain his image, he deceptively maintains that his first war is against narcoterrorism. This approach signals Trump’s continued pattern of viewing foreign policy through a domestic lens.
In September, American drones struck Venezuelan boats off the Caribbean coast, allegedly carrying drugs. Since then, Trump has accused Venezuelan President Nicolas Maduro of heading Cartel de los Soles, a cabal of elites involved in the drug trade. He authorised a covert CIA campaign and launched an escalatory military deployment that is now poised for ground operations. With over 30 people so far in the strikes, Trump’s actions have been criticised by the Democrats and condemned by the UN. The military is also uneasy, as signified by the resignation of Admiral Alvin Holsey, heading the Southern Command.
Multiple of the US’s national interests are served by the removal of Maduro, but Trump has twisted the narrative. Venezuela’s ties with Russia, China, and Iran challenge US influence in Latin America. Its energy and mineral wealth make it a strategic prize, especially with China throttling the supply of rare earths to the US. Venezuela fostered communist rulers in America’s backyard. Their totalitarianism created large-scale internal violence, economic collapse, and a massive refugee crisis for the US. Indeed, the award of the 2025 Nobel Peace Prize to the Venezuelan opposition leader indicates a strong Western consensus against Maduro. However, Trump does not highlight this rationale because it does not resonate with his domestic audience. His MAGA base is obsessed with drugs, crime, and national humiliation, and not geopolitics. Hence, Trump, who in his first presidency attempted to overthrow Maduro for these very reasons, has chosen this time to trade realpolitik for political theatre.
Trump has promoted a domestic justification, that is, the war on drugs, for his war in Venezuela. Opioid drugs were a major campaign issue. Trump promised repeatedly in his campaign and after assuming office to stop the Mexican cartels from pumping fentanyl into the US. Persuaded by Secretary of State, Marco Rubio, backed by the influential Florida Cubano community who viscerally hate Maduro, the communist, Trump changed his tune by July. He targeted Venezuela despite it playing little role in the fentanyl supply to the US. He stated that “A foreign terrorist organisation is poisoning…people with drugs … Coming from a drug cartel is no different than al-Qaida.” He thus framed Maduro as a narco-terrorist against whom decisive action would be politically rewarding. The war thus becomes an extension of his domestic agenda, portrayed as a means of securing the nation rather than embarking upon yet another foreign war.
This framing also allows Trump to project himself as a peacemaker. He had claimed that “Returning him to the White House would allow the country to ‘turn the page forever on those foolish, stupid days of never-ending wars.’” By framing his Venezuelan war as part of an ongoing counter-narcotics operation, he avoids being accused of starting a new “foreign war”. To his supporters, it becomes an effective America First policy securing the homeland rather than policing the world.
The domestic fallout of this gambit could be severe. Misleading the public about the motives for war damages trust and weakens democratic oversight. Acting without congressional authorisation sets a dangerous precedent. It upsets the balance of power between the executive and other branches of government. The military is placed in a legally and morally ambiguous position affecting morale, and effectiveness. Maduro’s regime collapsing chaotically could create new refugee for the US, the very opposite of Trump’s political objective.
Abroad, Washington’s credibility and reputation are at stake. Overthrowing the leader of a sovereign nation under dubious pretexts reinforces the image of a capricious superpower. Allies become wary of a US disregarding multilateral mechanism, such as the United Nations. Rivals such as China will portray America’s “war on drugs” as neo-imperial opportunism. If the military campaign morphs into guerrilla conflict, the US would be mired in a very protracted foreign war Trump promised to end.
Trump’s focus on the near abroad indicates a strategic inward shift. A President obsessed with domestic politics may neglect traditional security commitments in Europe and Asia, creating vacuums that adversaries will exploit. This, in turn, could make the world less stable and the United States less influential, the opposite of what Trump promised his electorate.
Trump’s war for Venezuela in posterity may be recalled not for its victories but for its deception. By depicting foreign aggression as domestic defence, he has blurred the line between politics and policy, truth and propaganda. Trump’s war does not solve America’s drug crisis, nor does it guarantee stability in Latin America. What it offers, instead, is a grim reminder that when domestic politics drives foreign policy, war becomes a campaign tool, and peace, a disposable slogan.
The writer is a research fellow at the Takshashila Institution
