Donald Trump's presidency has been defined by a single, overriding rule: never take him at his word. His promises are pretexts, his grand plans mere shabby tactics. From his political about-face to his evasion over the Jeffrey Epstein files, his declarations of solid gold consistently settle into something far less valuable.
The Grotesque Theatre of Foreign Intervention
This pattern of distraction and deception is now playing out on the world stage. The recent US-led operation in Venezuela, involving over 150 aircraft including Delta Force helicopters and special operations troops, was framed as a law enforcement action against drug trafficking. Yet its scale and unilateral nature made it an unmistakable act of war.
The operation resulted in the summary execution of at least 115 people suspected, but not charged or tried, for drug offences since September. The Atlantic reported that footage of one airstrike was so graphic it nearly made a lawmaker vomit. This grotesque theatre bears the hallmark of US Defence Secretary Pete Hegseth, a figure whose style seems inspired more by Patrick Bateman than by sober statesmanship.
Any other nation conducting such an operation would be condemned as a rogue state. The lack of such condemnation reveals a profound 'Trump derangement syndrome' within global commentary.
An Old Playbook, Not a New Doctrine
Pundits scrambling to explain these actions often invoke a 'new world order' or a 'Trump Doctrine'. This is a misreading. There is nothing new here. The US has a long history of intervening to change governments in Latin America—41 times between 1898 and 1994, or once every 28 months for a century, according to a 2005 Harvard paper.
Leaders from Chile's Salvador Allende to Panama's Manuel Noriega have fallen courtesy of Washington. What is novel is Trump's brazen focus on making money, discarding the usual pious rhetoric about spreading democracy. He does deals, not doctrines. His administration is less interested in colonising nations like Venezuela or Greenland than in demanding cheap compliance and rule by remote control.
The raid on Caracas broke international law and the US Constitution by proceeding without congressional approval. Trump even admitted to tipping off business contacts before allies in Congress. His fantasies of seizing Venezuela's oil reserves are just that—fantasies. With crude prices at a five-year low, the massive investment needed to tap the remote Orinoco Belt is not commercially viable.
Chaos as a Domestic Distraction
The true impetus for this foreign adventurism lies not in a coherent strategy but in desperate domestic politics. Trump is well into his second term, yet his presidency has been defined by dismembering the US government, setting troops on Democratic cities, and blustering through federal shutdowns.
His policy, such as it is, is marked by chaos and indecision. Economist Helen Thompson notes his much-vaunted tariffs on Chinese imports changed five times within six months of his inauguration. The result? Personal approval ratings that have sunk below those of President Joe Biden.
Faced with such dreary domestic failures, the spectacle of a 'new world order' is a convenient distraction. But this supposed order is not new, not worldwide, and certainly not ordered. It is a chaotic network of buccaneers, oligarchs, and tech billionaires engaged in a resource grab.
This unsettling reality is, however, one that can be more robustly resisted—if European leaders find the will to do so. The alternative is to continue dignifying chaos with the language of strategy.
