By Graeme Wood
Saturday, January 03, 2026
The most memorable moment in the presidency of
Venezuela’s Nicolás Maduro—at least until his kidnapping by Delta Force early
this morning—came in 2017, when he accomplished the extraordinary feat of
making the entire population of his country salivate with hunger simultaneously
by taking a huge bite of an empanada on live television. It was as if President
Donald Trump were to pause during an Oval Office address, then produce from a
drawer in the Resolute Desk a fully loaded chili dog. But in Venezuela at the
time, ordinary citizens were suffering near-famine conditions (the reported average
weight loss of 24 pounds that year was attributed to “the Maduro diet”),
and the sight of the president housing an empanada did not help his image as a
man of the pueblo.
Soon this autocrat will be eating his meals off a tray
provided by the United States’ Bureau of Prisons, and that is surely a victory
for the people of Venezuela. But some may be curious to learn the legal and
strategic rationale for Maduro’s arrest. At this morning’s press conference at
Mar-a-Lago, Trump said the operation was about Maduro’s “violation of the core
principles of American foreign policy,” his defiance of American dominance in
the Western Hemisphere, his “hosting foreign adversaries” (Maduro is an ally of
Cuba, Russia, and Iran), and his alleged flooding of the United States with
drugs. Trump did not mention Venezuela’s opposition politicians, the legitimate
winners of its 2024 election, by name. He said the United States intended to
govern Venezuela. “We’re going to run the country, until such time as we can do
a safe, proper, and judicious transition,” Trump said.
The Associated Press wrote
(with understatement characteristic of breaking news) that the legal
implications of Maduro’s arrest were “not immediately clear.” The operation is
less a challenge to international law than an instance of total disregard for
it. It is an indulgence in precisely the behavior that international law
theoretically constrains, namely the crossing of borders and the use of force
to meddle in what could plausibly be considered another country’s internal
affairs. International law does not constrain America from adopting regime
change in Venezuela as a policy, or from calling Maduro’s rule illegitimate.
But swooping into a foreign capital and kidnapping another country’s de facto
leader, so he can be tried in your country’s criminal courts, is well outside
the bounds of international law, however tyrannical that leader may be.
Maduro’s arrest is being compared to the 1989 invasion of
Panama and rendition of its caudillo, Manuel Noriega, to Miami to be convicted
of drug trafficking and other crimes. The justification for that
action was tripartite: self-defense (Panama had allegedly declared a state of
war against the United States, and had killed a Marine there); the American
treaty with Panama, which authorized the United States to protect the Panama
Canal; and, finally, authority granted by the exiled legitimate government of
Panama, which Noriega refused to let govern.
The United States and Venezuela have no canal treaty, but
Trump does invoke something like a self-defense rationale for his action—this
time based not on a dead Marine but on Venezuela’s alleged role in sending “thousands
of tons of cocaine” up the noses of innocent Americans. Taking part in this
nefarious activity is tantamount to an armed attack, the administration says.
This theory of international law is novel and, to say the least, a real
stretch.
The Trump administration also does not invoke the
authority of Venezuela’s opposition, which would have won the 2024 election had
Maduro counted the votes. Edmundo González and María Corina Machado, the
winners of the 2024 election, whose results Maduro faked, have said they
are ready to return to Venezuela to rule and have endorsed the American
operation. “The United States has fulfilled its promise to enforce the law,”
Machado wrote. But Trump himself said this morning that he had not been in
touch with Machado. What looked at first like a mere rendition now sounds more
like an occupation. Trump gestured to Secretary of State Marco Rubio and other
senior officials when asked who would serve as his proconsuls in Venezuela.
Did these opposition politicians know that America’s
occupation of Venezuela would be part of the deal? Even if they did authorize
the arrest of Maduro, their use as justification would set a disorderly
precedent. There are, to put it simply, a lot of cases in which countries
dispute the legitimacy of other countries’ de facto governments. (Russia would
like to have a word about Ukraine.) Those de facto governments may be
illegitimate, odious, and oppressive. But a world where any country can topple
another’s rulers, as long as it is preceded into battle by an opposition party
that blesses its military action, will be awfully messy. And much of the
international order is an attempt to avert messes, even by letting odious and
illegitimate governments stay in power, because messes can be odious too.
Joseph Stalin is famously said to have asked how many
divisions the pope had. One could equally count how many divisions the
International Court of Justice, or any other body that might fret over Trump’s
violation of these rules and norms, could field against the United States. The
violation will almost certainly go unpunished, but the rules and norms will be
missed. Trump says that he wants “partnership” with a post-Maduro Venezuela
that is “rich, independent, and safe.” That is a goal that most Venezuelans
share, but it will be achieved at a cost that could be painful, and that might
not be felt at a time of America’s choosing.
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