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Tuesday, March 10, 2026

Western hemisphere: A history of the United States written by war

Published date 11 March, 2026

First published at CADTM.

The dominant narrative of US history is presented as that of a nation born out of a struggle for freedom, which gradually expanded democratic rights. This interpretation is deeply misleading. The history of the United States is, above all, one of armed conquest by European powers and their colonists, which began well before 1776 at the expense of Native American peoples.

From the 17th century onwards, in the territory that would become the United States, European colonists waged a protracted colonial war against Native American nations. This war was neither peripheral nor defensive: its objectives were the appropriation of land, the destruction of indigenous societies and the imposition of a colonial order based on racial hierarchies. Massacres of civilians, the destruction of villages, forced displacement, slavery, and treaties imposed by force were the habitual instruments of this conquest.

After independence in 1776 the United States did not break with this logic but transformed it. Colonial violence became state policy, carried out in the name of the Republic. The wars against Native American populations in the 19th century as part of Indian Removal,1 policy of confinement in reservations, and the extermination of entire peoples prolonged and amplified earlier colonial practices.

Once the internal conquest was largely complete, this approach was extended beyond the country’s borders during the 19th century. The Western Hemisphere, stretching from Greenland and Canada in the north to Chile and Argentina in the south, emerged as a new space for expansion, interference and domination. The history of the United States in Latin America and the Caribbean is characterised by wars, occupations, coups d’état, economic sanctions, and direct or indirect military interventions.

This expansion originates from capitalism’s inherent tendency to develop by broadening its markets and extending its control over the populations it can exploit and the resources it wants to extract. Since the end of the 19th century, characterised by the rise of large, monopolistic capitalist companies with increasingly international and global ambitions, this tendency has manifested itself in frequent interventions in formally independent countries, as well as in a new period of colonisation (such as the division of the African continent among the European powers at the Berlin Conference in 1885).

It goes without saying that the capitalist system, from its origins to its consolidation, includes not only the displacement of Native American communities, the enslavement of African peoples and imperialist interventions, but also the exploitation of the working class in the United States. We mention it here, but it is a dimension of the process that we will not examine in this article.

The enslavement of people of African descent and racial segregation policies

To complete the picture of structural violence that has marked the history of the United States, it is essential to include the enslavement of Africans and their descendants, which began in the colonial era and was institutionalised after independence.

From the 17th century onwards, and especially in the 18th and 19th centuries, millions of Africans were forcibly deported to North America as part of the transatlantic slave trade.

As slaves, they were considered movable property, deprived of freedom, civil rights and any legal recognition as persons. Their forced labour was one of the economic foundations of the colonies and then the young United States, particularly on the tobacco, cotton, rice and sugar cane plantations of the South. The conditions of their exploitation were extremely harsh: exhausting days of labour, physical violence, family separations, and a total lack of legal protection against abuse. Slavery was based on a hierarchical racial system that linked skin colour to social status and which justified oppression through pseudo-scientific and religious theories.

Of course, there was a significant anti-slavery movement, composed of different tendencies, from the most moderate and institutional to the most radical and insurrectionary, represented by figures such as John Brown. Together with the resistance of the slaves, the anti-slavery movement continually raised the issue of slavery as a central and unavoidable theme in US politics.

The American Civil War (1861-1865) was mainly between the slave-owning states of the South and the states of the North. It led to the adoption of the 13th Amendment to the Constitution in 1865, which officially abolished slavery. However, this abolition did not end discrimination and violence. During the period known as Reconstruction (1865-1877), legal progress was made, notably with the 14th and 15th Amendments, which guaranteed citizenship and voting rights to Black men. Similarly, during the occupation of the former slave-owning South by federal troops, measures were taken to protect freedmen from abuse by moneylenders and former masters, their right to vote was protected, Black officials were elected, and universities were established to accommodate the formerly enslaved Black population. The classic work by African-American sociologist W. E. B. Du Bois, Black Reconstruction in America, traces the history of this period. But these gains were quickly undermined when the capitalist class in the North abandoned these radical policies and accommodated the rise of white supremacist groups in the South, leading to the consolidation of power by the former white ruling classes in the South and the enactment of the so-called “Jim Crow” laws, which enforced racial segregation and discrimination, at the end of the 19th century.

These segregationist laws established strict racial segregation in schools, transport, public places and housing. They were upheld in 1896 by the Supreme Court’s “separate but equal” ruling. In reality, services and infrastructure for African Americans were systematically inferior. Added to this was political exclusion through literacy tests and poll taxes, as well as a climate of terror marked by lynchings and racial violence.

This system of legal segregation persisted until the 1950s and 1960s. The civil rights movement, spearheaded by various prominent figures and organisations, led to significant reforms: the 1954 ruling declaring school segregation unconstitutional, followed by the Civil Rights Act of 1964 and the Voting Rights Act of 1965, which prohibited racial discrimination and safeguarded the right to vote. Despite these legal advances, the inequalities inherited from slavery and segregation continue to have lasting effects on the economic, social and territorial levels.

Thus, the history of the United States is marked not only by dispossession and violence against Native American peoples but also by slavery and segregation of African Americans — two distinct systems of oppression both of which had a formative influence on the country’s development.

The Monroe Doctrine

In 1823, the United States government adopted the Monroe Doctrine, named after Republican President James Monroe. This doctrine condemned any European intervention in the affairs of “the Americas.” However, in practice, it masked an increasingly aggressive policy of territorial expansion by the United States, detrimental to the newly independent Latin American states. This expansion began with the annexation of significant portions of Mexico during the 1840s, including Texas, New Mexico, Arizona, California, Colorado, Nevada, and Utah. American troops occupied Mexico City in September 1847 and also seized the strategic port of Veracruz in the same year.

Following the conquest of much of Mexico, the Mexican population and their descendants in the annexed territories joined the other segments of the American population who experienced various forms of displacement, exclusion and denial of rights in the American social and political system.

In 1898, the United States declared war on Spain and, through various means, seized four of its colonies: Cuba, Puerto Rico, the Philippines and Guam.

Notably, in 1902, in a departure from the principles of the Monroe Doctrine, Washington failed to defend Venezuela when it faced armed aggression by Germany, Great Britain, Italy and the Netherlands in order to force it to pay its debts. Subsequently, the United States intervened diplomatically to ensure that Caracas resumed payment of the debt. Washington’s attitude sparked considerable controversy among various Latin American governments, and in particular with the Argentine foreign minister, Luis M. Drago, who stated:

The principle I would like to see recognised is that public debt cannot give rise to armed intervention, let alone the physical occupation of the territory of American nations by a European power.

This later became known as the Drago Doctrine. The debates between governments led to an international conference in The Hague, which resulted, among other things, in the adoption of the Drago-Porter Convention (named after Horace Porter, an American military officer and diplomat) in 1907. This convention stipulated that arbitration should be the first means of resolving conflicts: any State party to the convention had to agree to submit to arbitration proceedings and participate in them in good faith, failing which the State claiming repayment of its debt would regain the right to use armed force to achieve its objectives. Washington repeatedly violated this convention.

In 1903, President Theodore Roosevelt supported and encouraged the secession from Colombia and independence of Panama. His goal was to be able to build and operate the Panama Canal under Washington’s control.

In 1904, the same president announced that the United States considered itself the policeman of America. He stated what is known as the Roosevelt Corollary to the Monroe Doctrine:

Chronic wrongdoing, or an impotence which results in a general loosening of the ties of civilized society, may in America, as elsewhere, ultimately require intervention by some civilized nation, and in the Western Hemisphere the adherence of the United States to the Monroe Doctrine may force the United States, however reluctantly, in flagrant cases of such wrongdoing or impotence, to the exercise of an international police power.2

In 1915, the United States invaded Haiti under the pretext of recovering debts and occupied the country until 1934. Uruguayan author Eduardo Galeano wrote:

The United States occupied Haiti for twenty years and, in this black country that had been the scene of the first successful slave revolt, they introduced racial segregation and forced labour, killing 1,500 workers in one of their repressive operations (according to a 1922 US Senate investigation) and, when the local government refused to turn the National Bank into a branch of the National City Bank of New York, they suspended the payment of allowances that were usually paid to the president and his ministers to force them to reconsider.3

Other US military interventions took place during the same period: the dispatch of occupation troops to Nicaragua in 1909 and between 1912 and 1933; the occupation of the port of Veracruz in Mexico in 1914 during the revolution; the occupation of the Dominican Republic from 1916 to 1924; the expedition to northern Mexico against the revolution and, in particular, against Pancho Villa’s troops. This list is not exhaustive.

It should be remembered that, in several cases, US interventions have been the prelude to the establishment of long-lasting and bloody dictatorships after the withdrawal of American troops. This was the case in the Dominican Republic and Nicaragua: the dictatorships of Somoza and Trujillo were led by figures who had risen through the ranks as officers in military corps created and trained by the American occupation.

The United States and the debt issue

This brief summary of US intervention and policy in America in the 19th and early 20th centuries helps to understand Washington’s real motivations for rejecting the debts claimed from Cuba in 1898 (read: The USA’s repudiation of the debt demanded by Spain from Cuba in 1898: What about Greece, Cyprus, Portugal, etc.? ) and Costa Rica in the 1920s (read : What other countries can learn from Costa Rica’s debt repudiation). After defeating the Spanish imperial army off the coast of Santiago de Cuba in June 1898, the United States refused to take on the debts that the creditors of the Spanish colony were claiming from Cuba. Washington declared this odious debt null and void, citing its use to maintain colonial rule against the Cubans’ aspirations for independence. Washington used this argument in a perfectly opportunistic manner, as the United States wanted to dominate the island de facto without having to assume payment of the debt. They did the same after the invasion of Iraq in 2003 (read: The Odious Iraqi Debt ). Regarding the cancellation of Costa Rica’s debt to a major British bank after the First World War, the United States again defended Costa Rica opportunistically, aiming to weaken the influence of Britain — still the world’s leading imperialist power at that time — in the Western Hemisphere. It was in the United States’ best interest to appear as the protector of Costa Rica under the Monroe Doctrine, which is a U.S. policy that opposes European colonialism in the Americas.

The testimony of Major General Smedley D. Butler

In 1935, Major General Smedley D. Butler — who took part in many US expeditions in the Americas — , writing during his retirement, described Washington’s policies as follows:

I spent 33 years and four months in active military service and during that period I spent most of my time as a high class muscle man for Big Business, for Wall Street and the bankers. In short, I was a racketeer, a gangster for capitalism. I helped make Mexico and especially Tampico safe for American oil interests in 1914. I helped make Haiti and Cuba a decent place for the National City Bank boys to collect revenues in. I helped in the raping of half a dozen Central American republics for the benefit of Wall Street. I helped purify Nicaragua for the International Banking House of Brown Brothers in 1902-1912. I brought light to the Dominican Republic for the American sugar interests in 1916. I helped make Honduras right for the American fruit companies in 1903.4

It should be noted that by the time he wrote this, Butler had become a fervent critic of the US military interventions and policies in which he had previously participated.

Direct US military interventions in the Western Hemisphere from the end of World War II to 2026

Since 1945, the United States has carried out a series of military interventions in the Western Hemisphere, alternating between clandestine operations, proxy wars and conventional invasions. I will only discuss the most well-known direct armed interventions here.

The first major post-war operation took place in Guatemala in 1954. The Eisenhower administration orchestrated, through the CIA, the overthrow of President Jacobo Árbenz (Operation PBSUCCESS). This effort did not involve a massive landing of American troops: the generals’ coup against the constitutional president benefited from the intervention of several hundred fighters trained and armed by the CIA, supported by psychological warfare and logistical support. The aim was to prevent the continuation of agrarian reform and the nationalisation of American companies in the agro-industrial sector.

In 1961, attention turned to Cuba. The Bay of Pigs operation, designed to overthrow the revolutionary government, mobilised some 1,400 Cuban exiles (Brigade 2506), trained and equipped by Washington. Although the United States entirely planned and supported the operation, no regular American division officially fought on the ground. The failure was swift and costly in political terms. The Cuban people mobilised to defend the revolutionary process.

The qualitative leap occurred in 1965 in the Dominican Republic. Juan Bosch, a progressive intellectual, was the first democratically elected president after the fall of the dictator Trujillo. Seven months after his inauguration, he was overthrown by a military coup supported by the conservative elite, who accused him of being “too left-wing” or pro-Communist. Faced with resistance to the coup, Washington launched Operation Power Pack. Some 22,000 American soldiers were deployed (more than 40,000 would serve on the island during the operation). American losses amounted to several dozen. On the Dominican side, generally accepted estimates put the death toll at between 2,000 and 4,000, including both civilians and combatants.

In the 1980s, a more indirect strategy was implemented in Nicaragua. The Reagan administration did not carry out a conventional invasion but instead supported, financed and trained the “Contras” against the Sandinista government. This campaign was a proxy war: without a massive deployment of American troops, but with advisers, clandestine supervision and significant structured logistical support. Not to mention the laying of underwater mines in Nicaragua’s main ports (Corinto, Puerto Sandino and El Bluff) between late 1983 and early 1984. The CIA directly supervised the operation. Following a complaint filed by Nicaragua, the International Court of Justice (ICJ) issued a famous ruling severely condemning the United States for the unlawful use of force. The court found that the mining of ports and attacks on oil installations constituted a violation of the obligation not to use force against another state. As the proceedings progressed, the United States withdrew its recognition of the ICJ’s compulsory jurisdiction. Washington then used its veto power in the UN Security Council to block enforcement of the ruling (which required payment of compensation estimated at several billion dollars). Nevertheless, this ICJ ruling remains the fundamental reference in international law for the prohibition of the use of force and the principle of non-intervention.

In El Salvador, Guatemala and Honduras, the CIA and American military experts systematically intervened during this period to support repressive anti-communist regimes.

In 1983, the United States invaded Grenada (Operation Urgent Fury). Some 7,000 American soldiers landed to overthrow a severely weakened left-wing government after one of its factions deposed and executed Maurice Bishop and other leaders of the New Jewel Movement, which was a political organization in Grenada advocating for socialist policies. The Grenadian government had only an army of about 1,000 combatants. The operation was brief and marked the return of direct and open military intervention.

In December 1989, the intervention in Panama was the most massive since the one in the Dominican Republic. Operation Just Cause mobilised some 27,000 American troops to overthrow General Manuel Noriega and, above all, secure control of the Panama Canal. American casualties numbered in the dozens. The number of Panamanian casualties remains controversial: estimates vary between 500 and 3,000 deaths, including both military and civilian personnel, with fighting concentrated in the urban districts of Panama City, particularly El Chorrillo.

In 1994, Washington intervened in Haiti (Operation Uphold Democracy). Nearly 25,000 American soldiers were deployed.

As for the military aggression against Venezuela on 3 January 2026, approximately 150 aircraft took part in the offensive. Among them were F-35A stealth fighters (from the former Roosevelt Roads naval base in Puerto Rico) deployed to destroy S-300 anti-aircraft batteries and radars, as well as a dozen transport and attack helicopters from the 160th SOAR (Special Operations Aviation Regiment). The raid was carried out by elite Delta Force units, transported by helicopter directly to the Miraflores presidential complex and Fort Tiuna. It is estimated that several hundred commandos took part in the direct assault, while thousands of marines remained on alert on the ships. In addition to the presidential complex, the attacks destroyed research centres, medical supply warehouses in La Guaira and communication antennas in order to paralyse the Venezuelan command. At sea, the amphibious assault group of USS Iwo Jima (LHD-7) served as the logistical centre for the operation. It was supported by a fleet of destroyers and the aircraft carrier USS Gerald R. Ford. President Nicolás Maduro and his wife Cilia Flores were captured at their residence, immediately transferred by force to New York via the Guantánamo military base, and detained in a Brooklyn prison pending a trial scheduled to begin in 2027. The US intervention resulted in the deaths of more than 80 Venezuelan and Cuban fighters who were attempting to protect the presidential couple.

In this list, which is not exhaustive, I have only included attacks in which a significant number of American military personnel or mercenaries trained and directed by them were used. A large number of coups d’état carried out in the Western Hemisphere at the request and/or with the support of the United States should be added, including the following:

Colombia (1953): coup d’état by Gustavo Rojas Pinilla.
Brazil (1964): military coup against João Goulart with logistical support from Operation Brother Sam.
Bolivia (1964): Overthrow of Víctor Paz Estenssoro by General René Barrientos.
Bolivia (1971): coup d’état by General Hugo Banzer against Juan José Torres.
Chile (1973): Overthrow (and death) of Salvador Allende by General Augusto Pinochet (CIA support and economic pressure).
Uruguay (1973): “civil-military coup d’état”.
Argentina (1976): overthrow of Isabel Perón by a military junta led by Jorge Rafael Videla.
Venezuela (2002): attempted coup against Hugo Chávez (immediate diplomatic support from the United States, but the coup failed in less than two days).
Haiti (2004): forced departure of President Jean-Bertrand Aristide (accusations of abduction by US forces during an insurrection).
Honduras (2009): overthrow of Manuel Zelaya (controversial diplomatic recognition of the interim government).
Bolivia (2019): forced resignation of Evo Morales
Venezuela (2019): Washington recognizes Juan Guaidó as president and Trump calls on the Venezuelan military to overthrow President Maduro

The list is far from exhaustive.

Since 1945, US interventions in the Western Hemisphere have encompassed a range of actions, from clandestine operations to proxy wars and conventional invasions. These deployments have varied significantly, from a few hundred men in Guatemala to over 27,000 soldiers in Panama. The human consequences of these interventions have been profound for the nations involved, particularly in the Dominican Republic and Panama.

Conclusion : imperial continuity, from land conquest to hemispheric domination

A historical examination of the wars waged on the territory of the United States and in the Western Hemisphere reveals a fundamental continuity. Violence is not an anomaly in American history: it is its matrix. From the destruction of Native American nations to ongoing interference in Latin America and the Caribbean, the same logic has been repeated over the centuries.

Indigenous peoples were the first victims of this trajectory: dispossessed of their lands, decimated by war, relegated to reserves, deprived of their sovereignty. This internal war, waged in the name of progress and civilisation, provided the ideological and military framework for subsequent interventions. The closure of the “frontier” did not end expansion: it merely displaced it.

Throughout the 20th and 21st centuries, the United States has projected this logic throughout the Western Hemisphere under successive pretexts: the fight against communism, the defence of democracy, the war on terrorism. The methods have evolved, but the objectives have remained the same: to control territories, resources and political decisions of peoples.

Recognising this continuity is not an ideological exercise but a political and historical necessity. It allows us to understand that the interventions taking place today are not breaks with the past but the continuation of a long process. As long as this history remains hidden or minimised, the violence it engenders can continue to be presented as necessary or legitimate.

This article, on the contrary, endeavours to put names on facts, to give a voice back to the dominated peoples and to recall an obvious truth that is too often obscured: American power was built and is still maintained through war and other forms of violence.

Imperial Oil Grab: The Abduction of Venezuela’s President as a Prelude to the Attack on Iran

by Roger D. Harris / March 9th, 2026

Venezuela and Iran hold the largest and third-largest petroleum reserves in the world, respectively. Both have been targeted for regime change by Washington. The world’s hegemon naturally seeks access to such resources. Yet it would be simplistic to think that would be only for narrow economic motives.

Dominion over energy flows – especially from countries with large reserves – is central to maintaining global influence. Washington requires control of strategic resources to sustain its position as global hegemon; a goal reflected in its official policy of “full spectrum dominance.” The 2017 National Security Strategy establishes “energy dominance” as an instrument of imperial power.

For Venezuela and Iran, sovereign control over their vast hydrocarbon wealth is a prerequisite for exercising even a modest degree of independence and some regional and global influence within a geopolitical landscape dominated by the US and its allies.

Venezuela-Iran nexus

Venezuela and Iran were founding members of the OPEC alliance of oil-producing countries in 1960. Both countries rejected Western dominance and nationalized their considerable oil sectors. In Iran, Prime Minister Mohammad Mossadegh established the National Iranian Oil Company in 1951, precipitating the CIA-MI6 coup that deposed him. In Venezuela, President Carlos Andrés Pérez nationalized the oil industry in 1976 through the creation of state oil company. The PDVSA was later expanded and reoriented by President Hugo Chávez after 2002.

In a prescient address at Tehran University, Venezuelan President Chávez admonished:

“If the US empire succeeds in consolidating its dominance, then humankind has no future. Therefore, we have to save humankind and put an end to the US empire.”

Venezuela’s Bolivarian Revolution and Iran’s Islamic Revolution are both of necessity anti-imperialist projects that have forged ties with Russia and China, Washington’s two major-power “strategic competitors.” The hegemon’s response reflects its broader pattern of targeting resource-rich, independent states that resist integration into the US-led “world order.”

Both countries have been targeted for their non-aligned foreign policy. Iran occupies a central position in the resistance to Zionism, supporting Hezbollah, the former Syrian government, Ansar Allah (the Houthis), and above all the Palestinian struggle. Likewise, Venezuela has been among the strongest supporters in Latin America of Palestinian self-determination, severing relations with Israel in 2009. Venezuela, too, has been the main supporter of the beleaguered Cuban government.

In 2015, US President Barack Obama declared Venezuela an “extraordinary threat” to US national security as an excuse to impose unilateral coercive measures on Caracas. Two years later, President Donald Trump intensified the hybrid war against Venezuela, modeled on the “maximum pressure” campaign against Iran.

Washington has repeatedly signaled its disregard for international law: Obama’s drone strikes on US citizens in 2011; Trump’s killing of Iranian General Qasem Soleimani in 2020; the January kidnapping President Nicolás Maduro and “First Combatant” Cilia Flores; and on February 28, the murder of Iran’s Supreme Leader Ayatollah Ali Khamenei.

In short, the US-led empire has demonstrated its readiness to capriciously employ lethal force whenever deemed expedient – with confidence that it will face few immediate consequences from the international community.

Oil markets and the timing of war

The US-Israeli attack on Iran of February 28 was anticipated. Iran’s Defense Minister Aziz Nasirzadeh and Foreign Minister Abbas Araghchi both warned of an imminent strike. Nasirzadeh was killed in the attack, while Araghchi survived. Israeli officials had earlier described previous attacks as “only the beginning,” while President Trump publicly acknowledged that a strike “could very well happen.”

Energy markets had also been anticipating escalation. Official agencies, market commentary, and the corporate press repeatedly warned about potential oil supply disruption, especially via the Strait of Hormuz chokepoint. Oil market indicators reflected these concerns, with oil prices surging in the days preceding the attack.

For years US policymakers had explicitly linked Iran sanctions to oil-market management. Foreshadowing the present escalation, the US announced in 2019 that ending Iranian oil waivers was intended to drive Iran’s exports to zero, while coordinating with major producers to keep global markets “well supplied.” Secretary of State Mike Pompeo based the pace of reducing Iranian oil exports on “market conditions.”

At the same time, US officials openly discussed Venezuela’s vast oil resources as strategically significant. This convergence suggests that Venezuelan oil capacity played a role – at least indirectly – in the timing of Washington’s Iran policy.

Oil-market stability therefore acted as a timing constraint on Washington’s Iran policy. In this context, Venezuelan oil assets could potentially be an offset option to buffer the impact of supply disruptions in the Middle East. It was expedient for the US to stabilize the Venezuelan oil supply prior to upending the Iranian one.

Thus, Washington’s Venezuela strategy was in part to secure oil assets to cushion markets. The same senior personnel and “maximum pressure” logic applied to both countries. Elliott Abrams, for example, held roles relating to both Iran and Venezuela during the first Trump administration. US interdictions of Iranian petroleum shipments to Venezuela in 2020 further illustrated how the two sanctions theaters intersected.

At the same time, Venezuelan oil was only one factor. Washington had already identified Saudi and Emirati production capacity as critical to maintaining global supply should Iranian exports disappear. Restoring Venezuela’s oil infrastructure to former levels will take time. So US intervention there may mainly serve a psychological purpose – helping calm markets during the Middle Eastern conflict.

Venezuela’s resilience

Despite the January 3 seizure of President Maduro, Venezuela’s Bolivarian Revolution survived the decapitation with a seamless continuation of leadership under interim President Delcy Rodríguez. This outcome compelled the US to negotiate rather than outright conquer – as they did in Iraq and Libya and are attempting to do in Iran. Still, the strategic balance of power is heavily titled in Washington’s favor.

So far Venezuela has avoided Iran’s fate: an ever mounting death toll, massive infrastructure devastation, widespread destruction of cultural institutions, and the assassination of top political, religious, and military figures. The US president has even floated the threat to “wipe them [Iran] off the face of this Earth.” The same USS Gerald R. Ford – the world’s most technically advanced aircraft carrier – was part of the January 3 attack on Venezuela and is now deployed off the coast of Iran.

Against this backdrop, President Rodríguez received the CIA director, cabinet-level energy and interior secretaries, the commander of US Southern Command, and the US diplomatic envoy. On March 5, Washington and Caracas announced an agreement to reestablish diplomatic and consular relations.

Venezuela’s new Organic Hydrocarbons Law reflects changing conditions since the original legislation was enacted a quarter of a century ago. Higher cost structures for heavy and extra-heavy crude require major investments, while Venezuela’s ability to attract foreign capital has been strangled by US sanctions.

The new law preserves state ownership of PDVSA and majority state ownership in joint ventures. In contrast, opposition politician María Corina Machado’s “Venezuela, Land of Grace” program would privatize it all.

An ephemeral détente

But make no mistake – the ultimate goal of the empire remains regime change. Washington’s kidnapping of President Maduro was intended to demonstrate the empire’s dominance. Yet it also revealed its limits: the durability of the Bolivarian Revolution and the reality that even great powers must sometimes negotiate with governments they oppose.

As Venezuelan oil analyst Franco Vielma observed, the country’s leadership has developed “creative resilience, strategic prudence, and pragmatic flexibility.”

“They have their strategy, and we have ours,” said Venezuelan President Rodríguez. The contest between imperial domination and national self-determination therefore continues.

Roger D. Harris is a founding member of the Venezuela Solidarity Network and is active with the Task Force on the Americas and the SanctionsKill Campaign. The author is currently trying to find a way to visit Venezuela with flights from the US cancelled. Read other articles by Roger.

“The First Victim Was the Truth” – The Cognitive War on Venezuela

By Leonardo Flores

March 10, 2026

Source: Originally published by Z. Feel free to share widely.

Image Ricardo Malik, courtesy of teleSUR

Two days before his kidnapping, President Nicolás Maduro gave an interview to Spanish writer Ignacio Ramonet and explained that the war on Venezuela is a cognitive one, “because the war is for the brain, the brain handles emotions and handles concepts.”

The term cognitive war is relatively new, and it sheds light on recent discourse around Venezuela. One of NATO’s definitions characterizes cognitive war as unconventional warfare used to “alter enemy cognitive processes, exploit mental biases or reflexive thinking, and provoke thought distortions, influence decision-making and hinder actions, with negative effects, both at the individual and collective levels.” It goes beyond propaganda or psychological warfare. Another NATO source says it “is not the means by which we fight; it is the fight itself. The brain is both the target and the weapon in the fight for cognitive superiority.”

Maduro understood this, saying that “to counteract a cognitive war, you have to create a force of conscience, a force of values, a spiritual force and fight with the truth. Our greatest weapon is not a nuclear rocket, our greatest weapon is the truth of Venezuela.”

In a recent Venezuela Solidarity Network webinar about the Venezuelan people’s reaction to the January 3^rd attack, Ana Maldonado of the Frente Francisco de Miranda said, “The first victim of this war was truth.” She explained that hours after the bombing and kidnapping, Trump went on television to say the military operation was easy, and that narrative was widely accepted.

Erased from the collective memory were ten years of economic warfare that cost Venezuela tens (if not hundreds) of thousands of lives, $630 billion in damages, and a migration crisis that separated countless families. Erased were the attempted color revolutions of 2014 and 2017, the attempted presidential assassination of 2018, the imposition of a fake president in 2019, and the failed mercenary incursion of 2020. Erased was the U.S. declaring Venezuela “an unusual and extraordinary threat” in 2015 and the imposition of increasingly harsh unilateral coercive measures (so-called sanctions), including during the pandemic.

Erased was the months-long, still ongoing U.S. naval presence in the Caribbean and the declaration of a no-fly zone. Erased was the naval blockade that chased down and seized ships attempting to trade in Venezuelan oil.

No, the January 3rd attack wasn’t “easy,” nor was it a victory. Though the U.S. demonstrated its military advantage, it has not won the cognitive battle. “The superiority shown by the Venezuelan people surpasses anything [the U.S.] has done. Their military attack needed an internal war, a fratricidal war they did not achieve,” explained Maldonado. There was no such war, no coup, no regime change.

The January 3^rd attack would have been the perfect opportunity for a new color revolution or rebellion. Maldonado stressed the failure of the “unprecedented cognitive war of provocations, intrigue, of wanting to seed doubts and division.” The grassroots, the government, the military and the police remain united behind acting President Delcy Rodríguez. “The fact that we have and continue to demonstrate such unity shows our superiority. Our superiority is organic. It is revolutionary. It is popular. It is the people … building people’s power,” Maldonado continued.

Venezuelans continue building people’s power, including through plebiscites on March 8, when the nation’s 5,336 communes vote on funding local projects. They are in constant mobilization, making it known they want peace and the return of Maduro and Flores. The streets are theirs, with Venezuelan fascists being increasingly sidelined. They are creating culture and insisting that “a unified people will not yield,” as musician Akilin sings.

Those that claim that Venezuela is now a “protectorate” or “colony” that has sold out or been betrayed don’t seem to be in conversation with Venezuelan revolutionaries. The global solidarity movement, which should be organizing for Maduro and Cilia, calling for an end to sanctions and the withdrawal of U.S. forces from the Caribbean, instead finds itself having to counter such speculation, as Manolo de los Santos did in an excellent article.

A delegation of peace activists went to Venezuela in late February to hear directly from the people. In a report-back webinar, CODEPINK co-founder Jodie Evans observed that Venezuelans “are engaged in building a future…they are in constant dialogue [with each other] and trying to find ways to thread a needle.” The threats against Venezuela are ongoing and “horrific,” she said, noting that “these horrors are being breathed down their necks every day and they are staying quite committed.” The unity up and down the Bolivarian Revolution is what it needs to survive.

Yes, the United States controls the oil trade and pushed for changes in the hydrocarbon law. Yet there is reason to believe the Venezuelan people may see material gains from these concessions. The Venezuelan government is playing a long game that points towards sanctions relief. Domestically, the National Assembly approved an amnesty law aimed at reconciliation with the moderate opposition, which could be an important factor in preventing or blunting any future U.S. operations aimed at fomenting civil unrest. In these negotiations, the Venezuelan people’s red lines “haven’t been hit yet,” as Evans put it.

Maduro, in his final interview before the kidnapping, said he was “truly happy how millions of men and women in Venezuela and the world defend Venezuela’s truth.” In Venezuela, the defense of that truth happens every day, with constant mobilizations since the morning of the attack.

In the rest of the world, that defense feels lacking. This is not the time for over-analyzing every misstep, real or imagined, by the Bolivarian government. It is a time to relentlessly denounce the kidnapping of a president and a legislator. This is the moment to defend Latin America and the Caribbean as a zone of peace. It is an opportunity to counter Trump’s Monroe Doctrine, the plans for a “Greater North America,” and the so-called “Shield of the Americas.”

We can fight against this cognitive war by insisting on an alternative vision for U.S. foreign policy, one in which the country becomes a good neighbor by centering its relationship with the hemisphere (and the world) on peace, solidarity and shared prosperity.

In the time of predators: The stakes of Trump’s imperialist intervention in Venezuela

By Franck Gaudichaud & Antoine Larrache

Published date 8 March, 2026

Republished from Tempest.

The attack against Venezuela in early January and the abduction of Nicolás Maduro and Cilia Flores are part of the new U.S. strategy within the broader reorganization of the world and of inter-imperialist power relations. This aggressive strategy notably involves increased economic pressure and direct military interventionism toward Latin America. Franck Gaudichaud looks back at these events in an interview conducted by Antoine Larrache for Inprecor magazine, with remarks updated for Contretemps Web. This interview was translated into English by Hector Rivera for International Viewpoint and Tempest Magazine.

What happened during the abduction of Maduro and his partner?

Quite a few elements and details remain unknown, even more than a month later, but we are clearly facing a large-scale imperialist aggression and, quite literally, a coup d’état, which took place on the night of January 2–3. Venezuela was bombed with an unprecedented military deployment (with more than 150 aircraft and helicopters operating simultaneously). It is the first time that a South American country has been bombed in this way (let us recall the most recent interventions in the Caribbean and Central America, against General Noriega in Panama in 1989, or the invasion of Grenada in 1983, which was preceded by the arrest and execution of Prime Minister Maurice Bishop).

The U.S. had a massive military presence in the Caribbean for several months, including the deployment of the world’s largest aircraft carrier, the Gerald Ford, along with an entire armada, all under the pretext of fighting drug trafficking — an operation that resulted in several extrajudicial killings and the bombing of boats. The possibility of an intervention was ultimately confirmed. Special forces landed on the ground during the operation and destroyed several strategic and defensive points in Venezuela. The near-total absence of organized and centralized defense, particularly anti-aircraft defense, by the Bolivarian National Armed Forces (FANB) made it possible to capture and detain, in record time, the sitting president Nicolás Maduro and his partner, deputy Cilia Flores, who were then “extracted” and deported to the United States. They were presented before a judge in New York on fabricated charges, including accusations of leading a “narco-state.”

This military operation, which violates Venezuela’s sovereignty and — of course — all international law (which is the least of Trump’s concerns), marks the beginning of a brutal attempt to recolonize the country and perhaps even to establish a protectorate in the medium term, if we are to believe the first statements coming from the White House. Within the context of the prolonged crisis of capitalism, the decline of U.S. global hegemony, and the violent reorganization of the inter-imperialist system, Trump’s objective is to bring the entire hemisphere to heel, using or threatening to use the largest military-industrial arsenal humanity has ever built. It is also, more directly, about regaining control over Bolivarian Venezuela and preparing the colonial plundering of the country’s vast heavy oil reserves.

According to your information, what has been the attitude of the state apparatus and the ruling layers in Venezuela following this operation?

It is still in the process of reorganization. What we can clearly observe — and what our contacts on the ground confirm — is that following the detention of the president and his partner, there has been continuity within the Madurista state apparatus, now embodied by the figure of interim president Delcy Rodríguez. Both military and civilian leaderships, the upper levels of the bureaucracy, leaders of the PSUV (United Socialist Party of Venezuela), and the various factions of the Bolivarian business bourgeoisie appear to be closing ranks… for now. Of course, what is decisive here — and will continue to be — is the attitude of the army, the pillar of Maduro’s political control, particularly since the crises of 2014 and 2017–2019.

For now, we see the main leaders of what had been Madurismo in power since the death of Hugo Chávez in 2013, on Delcy Rodríguez’s side. First and foremost is Diosdado Cabello, the regime’s strongman, who controls the police, maintains very strong ties with the army, and also with China. The Minister of Defense and Chief of Staff, the seemingly untouchable Vladimir Padrino López, has expressed his support (he was not dismissed despite the January debacle), as has the president’s brother, Jorge Rodríguez, one of the key figures of Chavismo and then Madurismo, now president of the National Assembly. There are nevertheless debates about the extent to which a sector of the regime may have dropped Maduro beforehand and struck a deal over the ongoing transition, in the face of maximum pressure from the United States and the repeated failures of negotiations with Trump.

A whole segment of the existing bureaucracy, particularly high-ranking military officials, has economic interests in oil and mining extraction to protect, as well as their own impunity to negotiate in the event of regime change… But how much room for maneuver do they have now (especially in the absence of a broad, autonomous national popular resistance movement)?

The fact remains that there was no immediate politico-military capacity to respond to what was, at the very least, an anticipated or possible aggression by the Pentagon — despite armed forces supposedly on permanent alert. Several billion dollars had been invested in Russian and Chinese equipment, particularly to protect Caracas and its airspace, with anti-aircraft defenses and sophisticated radar systems over recent years. Everything appears to have been neutralized beforehand. There are therefore many unknowns from this perspective, but there was no coordinated national defense movement. Does this indicate limited internal active or passive complicity, a breakdown in the chain of command, or a strategic passivity by the General Staff while awaiting a reorganization of power? Debates are raging at Miraflores Palace, and rumors and fake news are also being feverishly fueled by Washington’s services to maintain control. Those who paid the highest price for this debacle were more than 100 people (civilians and military personnel), including members of Maduro’s personal guard and particularly 32 Cuban agents killed in the confrontation.

As for Delcy Rodríguez’s position, she confirmed the establishment of a state of exception. We are therefore far from any perspective of opening or democratization, quite the opposite, even if several political prisoners have also been released, including the opposition figure Enrique Marquez. If approved by parliament, it would allow — under certain conditions — the release of several hundred political prisoners. The bill officially acknowledges the existence of prisoners of conscience in Venezuela (detained for political offenses or for “criticism of public officials”). Though it should be noted that the law does not cover murders or aggravated violence, particularly those committed by the far right, nor does it cover corruption (which is rather positive). This amnesty proposal is also the product of intense mobilization by several collectives of families of detainees.

More broadly, however, the Rodríguez siblings seem to be confirming what Trump and Marco Rubio proudly announced at their press conference immediately after the aggression: They would be willing to usher in a new era of “cooperation” with the United States, particularly to facilitate the “reconstruction” of the oil industry under imperial oversight. Their room for maneuver is admittedly limited. Internally, however, the president has repeated that the goal is to safeguard the country’s sovereignty; she is officially demanding the immediate release of Maduro and Flores and adopts anti-imperialist rhetoric in her televised speeches. Yet CIA director John Ratcliffe was received in Caracas and even awarded a medal! And Trump announced that he was canceling any further attack because “the United States and Venezuela are now working well together.”

To what extent can a “Madurismo without Maduro” be organized, under pressure from imperialism and in collaboration with Trump? Why have there been no significant mobilizations of Chavistas and popular bases?

It was believed that Trump’s main option was that of regime change, placing the ultra-conservative, neoliberal, pro-U.S. opposition embodied by Maria Corina Machado and the 2024 presidential candidate Edmundo Gonzalez, who was disqualified following electoral fraud, on the “throne.” But Machado has been publicly humiliated and sidelined by Trump, at least for now: and the gift of her Nobel Peace Prize medal to the autocrat of the United States will not change much! Trump’s gamble is therefore clearly to rely on the state apparatus and Madurismo, calculating that they control the country, noting that they retain the essential support of the army and also real (albeit diminished) social bases: popular Chavism, whose potential resistance must be channeled. This would be accompanied by considerable political, military, and economic threats and pressure. Washington’s calculation is that Corina Machado and Edmundo González would not be able to radically reorganize the country in the short term without direct support from imperialism, including ground troops. An Iraq-style scenario is unthinkable for Trump and would be too costly, including domestically, given that his MAGA base is highly critical of military invasions, that the situation in the United States is tense, with major struggles underway (against ICE in particular), and since the midterm elections are coming up in November.

It is quite surprising that the state apparatus and the “bolibourgeoisie” are capable of navigating such an upheaval.

Everyone is waiting to see what happens. The interim Venezuelan government, as I said, is blowing hot and cold, including in relation to its own population. But the collapse is shocking, especially for those who thought that massive national anti-imperialist resistance, fueled by years of the “Bolivarian Revolution,” was possible. Fear and uncertainty dominate at this stage, and while there have been demonstrations in support of Maduro’s release, they have remained relatively timid. This is not so surprising. On the one hand, there is the immense military asymmetry and maximum political pressure exerted by U.S. imperialism, in a regional context that is, moreover, hostile. On the other, for more than a decade, we have witnessed the authoritarian disintegration, political collapse, and economic destruction of Chávez’s country and of what the Bolivarian process and its progressive, national-popular, and anti-imperialist impulse had embodied in the 2000s.

Madurismo exacerbated the most problematic aspects of Chavismo and consolidated a Bolibourgeoisie caste in power, a new oligarchy that has accumulated foreign currency from oil and mining extraction and certain state assets through dispossession and corruption. After repressing (often violent) demonstrations and conservative pro-imperialist opposition sectors, temporarily closing the elected parliament, and concentrating power in the executive branch, Maduro did the same to the left-wing opposition, against former allies (notably the PCV, Venezuelan Communist Party), imprisoning trade unionists and former Chavista leaders and ministers. The internal situation, exacerbated and worsened by years of U.S. blockade and unjust sanctions, has led to the exile of 8 million Venezuelans (out of a population of 28 million!).

Despite this there has been a slow and steady macroeconomic recovery in recent years, embodied by the very pragmatic management of Delcy Rodríguez, who is responsible for oil extraction, among other things. However, as several Venezuelan trade unions have denounced, Maduro’s economic policy and labor rights resemble more a neoliberal dystopia, with the destruction of all fundamental rights and a headlong rush into extractivism with catastrophic ecological consequences, than “21st-Century Socialism.” A broad trade union front had even planned to hold strikes and demonstrations in mid-January, but this plan was thwarted by Trump and his warmongering.

Under these circumstances, the absence of conditions for a broad, multi-party anti-imperialist resistance, with a popular base mobilized behind a legitimate national government, is glaringly obvious. And the Trump administration is well aware of this. We are not at all in April 2002, when Hugo Chávez suffered a coup d’état, supported by the CIA and local business leaders, and was “saved” by a very strong popular mobilization, while the military showed its willingness to reject this pro-imperial coup.

Are there still sections of the civil-military apparatus that remain rooted in this nationalist-populist perspective and ready to resist the new colonial rule? Popular Chavismo, critical left-wing movements, trade unions, and social movements have been considerably weakened, with some demoralized and others co-opted. However, memories of early Chavismo remain, and here and there, collective community experiences are still alive. Nevertheless, it seems that a significant part of the population, with a great deal of resignation, believes that this new crisis could perhaps loosen the stranglehold on the country and that the arrival of U.S. capital could lead to an economic rebound, or even the return of millions of exiles.

Will we see the establishment of a kind of forced co-management and “pro-imperial” collaboration on the part of a section of the Bolibourgeois cast to to save its interests (which is in fact unlikely in the long term), while continuing to run the country in this quasi-protectorate context? There is no question of transition, or even elections, in the short term. But it is already being considered by everyone in the medium term. Is a nationalist response by the government conceivable? In any case, the new hydrocarbons law defended by Rodriguez as a step forward which has just been approved, greatly deepens the liberalization that Maduro had begun in recent months. It radically challenges the state’s sovereignty over the resource, as well as the orientations of the 1999 Bolivarian constitution, to the benefit of U.S. multinationals. This is a historic setback! The United States will decide on extraction. They have announced that they will start by confiscating 50 million barrels for their own benefit and that part of the future dividends from oil exploitation will be placed in Qatar and returned in dribs and drabs to run Venezuelan public services, at their discretion.

Under these circumstances, what will be the capacity of the working classes to reorganize autonomously in order to reject Trump’s control and demand real democratization of the country, in this new context of colonial oppression, after years of immense material precariousness and authoritarian abuses? This is a key question.

Trump explained that he wanted to recover what had supposedly been stolen from the United States in terms of oil resources.

Trump announced without mincing words the destruction he wanted to wreak and his intention to regain control of the country. Historically, since the discovery of oil and the first wells in 1914, and especially during the golden age of extraction in the 1960s under the control of Yankee multinationals, these companies have been able to reap the full benefits of oil extraction, with huge, excessive profit margins, much more than, for example, in Saudi Arabia or the Middle East.

This is in line with the thinking of the ruling oligarchy in the United States, and there is a desire to return to this type of “savage” accumulation through dispossession. When Trump says they were “sidelined,” one might think he is referring to the 1976 nationalization by Venezuelan social democracy (under Carlos Andrés Pérez), but in fact he is referring more directly to 2007 when Chávez reorganized joint ventures for the benefit of PDVSA, and nationalized much of the extraction in the Orinoco oil belt, where the main reserve is currently located, perhaps 300 billion barrels! This is the largest proven reserve in the world, but it is extra-heavy bitumen, which is very expensive to refine.

What billionaire Trump would like to see is for this reserve to fall back into the hands of Exxon, Chevron, and other major U.S. corporations, and also to be able to dictate the price of crude oil worldwide (Venezuela is a key player in OPEC). This is not so easy in reality, given that 80 percent of exports currently go to China and the infrastructure is in a state of advanced disrepair (with 800,000 barrels per day currently being produced). In any case, there are major investments to be made, with some talking about $60 billion or even $100 billion over several years to be injected by North American capital. Nothing is certain, however, as these capitalists would need long-term guarantees that the country’s social and political control will remain stable and that China will be effectively sidelined or at least marginalized. This is truly a prospect of recolonization that could take shape.

At the same time, while the energy and oil angle is obvious — in his speech, Trump says, “Money is coming out of the ground in Venezuela” — we need to analyze the geostrategic aspect, which, in my opinion, is essential and which, incidentally, is brutally expressed by Marco Rubio: to discipline the entire region and threaten South America. The target is Brazil, which still has a degree of geostrategic autonomy. At the same time, the aim is to realign the Caribbean region and, above all, to bring down Cuba (the obsession of Marco Rubio’s Miami clan) like “ripe fruit” rather than through intervention. Cuba is losing its essential ally in Caracas and its oil supply, while the island’s economy is in a situation even worse than during the “special period in peacetime” of the early 1990s. The island is clearly under threat today, which would be another major defeat for Latin American sovereignty. And in doing so, it would threaten Colombia and Mexico, both of which are still governed by progressive governments and enjoy a certain degree of relative autonomy in the regional arena (elections are coming up in Colombia and the pressure will be strong).

The White House’s new “National Security Strategy” (NSS), published last December, confirms a desire to disrupt international relations and even a growing “fascistization” of the world order. Éric Toussaint has just devoted a detailed study to this subject. We are once again entering an era of predatory states and imperialist gangsterism (which, admittedly, never disappeared), where only brute force counts: Latin America as the U.S. backyard, while Putin can more or less do what he wants on a European scale (the European bourgeoisie is despised for its weakness, timidity, and division), including in Ukraine, while China embodies the true “systemic” enemy: a Middle Kingdom to be weakened in Latin America and contained in Southeast Asia.

The Trump administration is redrawing the world map to cope with the decline of its once-hegemonic empire. This new phase of international relations in the era of the fourth age of capitalism and major climatic and ecological upheavals is more dangerous than ever, with the remilitarization of inter-state relations and continental-scale military conflicts. Gilbert Achcar describes a “new Cold War,” bloc against bloc, and indeed, this one is increasingly punctuated by open, “hot” conflicts and colonial violence, starting with the genocide in Gaza.

How do you see this process of recolonization in Latin America, given that China is currently Latin America’s largest trading partner?

We are seeing the consequences of what we have been calling, for some time now, the “polycrisis” of the capitalist and inter-imperialist system. The major powers have not really recovered from the crisis since 2008, and we are more broadly in a long wave of “secular stagnation,” with an ongoing reorganization of value chains and marked by the hyperconcentration of capital at the global level. In this phase, the current leading power — the United States of America — is in decline and wants to violently reclaim space, resources, markets, and capacity for geostrategic projection.

In this sense, it is very interesting to return to the writings of Lenin, Rosa Luxemburg, Ernest Mandel, and Samir Amin on imperialism, without reading them as “revealed truth,” of course. The same applies to the rich debates on center-periphery relations, the theory of uneven and combined development, and the theory of dependency in the 1970s. Authors who believed that the era of imperialism was more or less over, or that we would see the emergence of a “super-imperialism” of multinational, trans-state corporations that would rule the world, were sorely mistaken: what is emerging is a highly hierarchical and competitive inter-imperialist system, based above all on strong nation States and national military powers. Multinational corporations accompany them in this process, as does financial capital.

In this context, the idea of “hemispheric security” and the doctrine of national security, which is at the heart of U.S. strategic thinking for Latin America, is being reaffirmed in an ultra-violent manner. The Monroe Doctrine, Roosevelt Corollary, and gunboat diplomacy are being revisited by the Trump administration with renewed violence in the form of the “Donroe Doctrine.” According to this worldview, the problem now is competition from China on all fronts, particularly in technology, infrastructure (including Big Tech and monetary infrastructure), and geopolitical power (even if not yet on a military level). Benjamin Bürbaumer’s work is illuminating in this regard: China’s capitalist development since the 1990s directly threatens globalization under U.S. hegemony and that of the dollar, as it was built during the second half of the 20th century. China is in the process of displacing the U.S. commercially and economically in Latin America: it is the leading trading partner of Brazil, Peru, Chile, and South America as a whole. This trajectory seems almost impossible to alter. Even Mexico, which is fully integrated into the U.S. market and its supply chains (notably through a free trade agreement), has China as its second largest trading partner, with companies directly established by the Chinese on the border with the United States.

Trump has said it repeatedly: China could no longer be allowed to control the Pacific and Atlantic ports at the entrances to the Panama Canal, and he succeeded in changing the situation through political pressure and millions of dollars: Panama is once again a canal entirely under U.S. control. His tools are the multiple U.S. bases, the deployment of the Fourth Fleet, and very tight military, informational, and economic control, while China has no real military means in the region.

The relationship with Colombia is central in this regard, since until now, that country has been the key to military geostrategy for the South American region, via the “Plan Colombia” and under the pretext of fighting guerrillas and “narcos.” This is despite the fact that Central America and the Caribbean are considered easier to control (although Cuba continues to resist). This explains Trump’s rather harsh diplomatic conflicts with President Petro, even though negotiations are ongoing.

The outcome of this clash of titans is uncertain — even in Javier Milei’s Argentina, China remains central to trade. There are therefore geopolitical and ideological aspects: Trump wants to strengthen “his own,” in the regional far right, the Mileis, the Bolsonaros, the Kasts, and practices electoral interventionism, as he did in the midterm elections in Argentina. He has also recently succeeded in Honduras, and he will continue to rely on Kast, the newly elected Pinochetist in Chile, the conservative billionaire Noboa in Ecuador, and the conservative liberal right in Bolivia, and put pressure on even very moderate governments, such as Lula’s in Brazil, to say: “If you resist us, you will be considered enemies, and if you are enemies, we will impose completely unprecedented tariffs of 40 or 50 percent, or we will simply threaten you militarily, as we did in Venezuela.”

This show of force, which is also underway against Greenland, shows that the United States is less and less a “hegemon” capable of projecting force or soft power, support, and consensus: They now represent raw domination centered on political-military power relations and commercial ultimatums, against a backdrop of threats of economic or colonial destruction against the “non-aligned,” including Europe and NATO allies if necessary.

It must be very complex to change supply chains and the international organization of labor, so it will require extremely repressive governments. Even in Venezuela, this could very quickly contradict what Trump or others might present as a supposed democratic opening.

Exactly. It is interesting to note the recent statements by figures representing U.S. fossil capitalism and the major oil companies, who expressed their doubts and reservations about the considerable investment that would be required to “reconquer” oil in Venezuela for their own profit, and the lack of guarantees since political stabilization is hard to achieve without establishing a repressive and costly protectorate. Trump had to meet with them and reiterated his commitment to them. In return, Chinese leaders expressed their rejection of the aggression against their Venezuelan ally, but they will have to acknowledge that this is a serious blow, as their military equipment on the ground has proven ineffective.

Xi Jinping’s special envoy to Latin America had met at length with Maduro in Caracas just hours before Trump’s raid. Nevertheless, they issued new strategic documents renewing their rejection of U.S. imperialism and their willingness to engage in “friendly” cooperation and technology transfer with Latin American countries, in contrast to the belligerent attitude of the United States. China understands the threat and has an Achilles heel: its energy dependence (the country buys 70 percent of its oil needs from abroad). Chinese leaders will seek to consolidate their influence in Latin America in the name of mutual respect, despite the setback in Venezuela, without entering into direct confrontation with Trump in the hemisphere. They are promoting a “win-win” discourse, yet the relationship between China and Latin America remains completely asymmetrical: They always want more raw materials, minerals, arable land, and agribusiness. They have announced their intention to reach their goal of $700 billion in investment in the region by 2035. The recently inaugurated Chancay megaport is their flagship project in the region for the “New Silk Road.” Nevertheless, the economic slowdown is also affecting China.

Even though the Chinese Communist Party subscribes to the discourse on multilateralism, the construction of the BRICS and the “Global South,” many activists are well aware that the voracious capitalism of the Asian giant cannot embody a real alternative in terms of emancipation, development, and even diplomacy. This has been evident in their silence in the face of the massacres in Gaza, and even their direct or indirect support for Netanyahu. They advocate for a different global order, certainly, but one that will not necessarily bring liberation to the peoples of the South.

The Latin American region finds itself at the intersection of two conflicting tectonic plates: a dominant, violent imperialism in crisis and a global imperial hegemony that could potentially be emerging. At this stage, the United States spends more than 36 percent of the world’s total military expenditure. This is considerable. 250,000 U.S. military personnel are deployed around the world, compared to only a few hundred Chinese and perhaps 30,000 to 35,000 Russians. Trump wants to rely on this enormous military-industrial power to try to reestablish the United States as an untouchable global player.

Do you have any information on resistance to this offensive in Latin America? What about the attitude of so-called “progressive” governments?

Progressive or center-left governments are denouncing the aggression against Venezuela, the kidnapping of President Maduro, the breakdown of international order, and the violation of a neighboring country’s sovereignty. Lula, Claudia Sheinbaum in Mexico, Boric in Chile, and Gustavo Petro even more clearly in Colombia have all spoken out, which does not mean, however, that they support the Maduro regime.

Lula has intervened mainly on the diplomatic front and in a rather timid manner: He has called for an urgent UN meeting, as the legitimate forum for the settling international conflicts; he also tried to mobilize the Organization of American States, but at the same time he has shown a certain powerlessness. Whereas in the 2000s, national-populist governments had a strong capacity for cooperation and pooling resources, with UNASUR, CELAC, and even ALBA, in an attempt to exert influence on the international stage, we are now once again facing fragmentation.

There is no longer any talk of the Bank of the South project, or even of an alternative common currency. Today, the ideal of the Patria Grande (José Martí’s great Latin American homeland) is in decline, nationalism and the far right are on the rise, the collapse of the Bolivarian experiment is weighing heavily on the entire region, Cuba is suffocating and in danger, Bolivia’s Movement Toward Socialism (MAS) is tearing itself apart, the Boric experiment is giving way to Kast, etc. The progressive governments in power (Brazil, Colombia, Mexico, Uruguay) seem relatively isolated, even though Petro and, even more so, Claudia Sheinbaum have managed to consolidate a solid multi-class social and electoral base.

The decisive factor in such a context is and will continue to be grassroots resistance, class and popular struggles, feminists, peasants, indigenous peoples, regardless of the position of governments, for self-determination and national sovereignty. One way to gain more influence on the regional stage and in relation to Trump, including for left-wing governments, would be to rely on a mobilized population, invoking the historic anti-imperialist horizon that is still very much present in the collective imagination and values of some Latin Americans. However, in Brazil and under Boric in Chile, progressive politics has tended to deactivate struggles and mobilized actors. Not to mention Venezuela. The Maduro government has co-opted and/or repressed resistance, and what it has not done directly, economic collapse and sanctions have taken care of. There are still some “communes” and courageous experiments in self-organization that are worth supporting, but they remain fragile.

This does not mean that there are not multiple mobilizations and resistance movements taking place right now. The continent of Sandino and the Zapatistas remains dotted with struggles. In Brazil, this is very clear, as we have seen the Landless Workers’ Movement (MST) remains powerful, despite internal debates about its relationship with Lula. In Ecuador too, in the face of Noboa, with the large mobilizations of CONAIE, the Confederation of Indigenous Nations of Ecuador, urban unions, and ecological collectives, which succeeded in inflicting a crushing political defeat on the government in the November 2025 referendum, rejecting the project for a new Yankee military base and the authoritarian reform of the Constitution. So in several countries, things are moving.

We could talk about the power of feminist, indigenous, and decolonial movements: For example, there is hope in Chile to confront Kast and his socially regressive, racist, and patriarchal measures. But there are currently no continent-wide mobilizations, as there have been in the past, for example to confront the Free Trade Agreement of the Americas (FTAA) project, which was defeated in 2005. One place of support that could be truly fundamental is the increasingly massive mobilizations underway in the heart of the United States, with the “No Kings” protests and the struggles against police violence and the fascist immigration police (ICE). Mamdani’s victory in New York, and the recomposition of the left against the Democratic Party establishment also come to mind.

Otherwise, we must recognize that there is a rising neo-conservative, even reactionary, tide in many areas in most countries, which weighs heavily. Violence also pervades everyday life and the media, whether it be from cartels and drug trafficking, the state or paramilitaries, or forced migration. This is the case in Chile, which I know well. It is imperative for us to understand what led this country from the great popular uprising of 2019 (which was heavily repressed) to the massive victory of José Antonio Kast’s neo-Pinochetismo in 2025: this is fundamental, in my opinion, because it is a major defeat for all social and political leftists in a country that is emblematic of global neoliberalism.

We are living in a time when neo-fascism and the conservative far right can appear to be an “alternative” in the eyes of a significant portion of the working classes. A time when the left has been discredited or has lost touch with the working classes to the benefit of conservative evangelical churches. A time when anti-capitalist left-wing movements remain weak, sectarian, or lacking in credibility. Of course, from our point of view, the far right is an ultra-regressive “alternative” that serves capital, the destruction of the environment, patriarchy, the brutal domination of oligarchies, etc. It also serves U.S. imperialism in the Americas. Thus, Kast loudly welcomed the kidnapping of Maduro and Cilia Flores. The same is true of Noboa, who posted tweets claiming that the attack was excellent news for Latin America. The Brazilian far right thinks the same. They are Trump’s “lackeys.” Elections are coming up in Brazil, Colombia, and Peru in a few months. In Colombia, there is a real risk of a return of the right. What will happen in Brazil, with an institutional left still dependent on the figure of an aging Lula, now in his 80s?

What suggestions would you give for a transitional global anti-imperialist program?

That’s very (too) ambitious! Because I can’t answer such a question on my own, which, moreover, would have to be adapted to local, national, and then global conditions based on the collective efforts of the populations concerned. What we can say with certainty is that the solution will certainly not be found in this context of militarization, imperial offensives, wars, genocide in Gaza, invasion of Venezuela, widespread submission of peoples to authoritarian governments, mass repression as in Iran, and fascism… So, as our friend Daniel Bensaïd said, we must start by saying “no!”

In the current Latin American context, what militant and radical leftists are seeking to build is already the broadest and most unified anti-imperialist resistance possible on a continental scale, in support of Venezuela and to defend against new interventions on the continent right now. At this stage, continental mobilization remains far below the urgency of the moment. They are already demanding the immediate withdrawal of the huge armada that the United States has been maintaining for months in the Caribbean and the immediate release of Nicolás Maduro and Cilia Flores, based on the clear principle that it is up to the Venezuelan people, and only them, to decide who governs them.

In the countries of the “South,” this requires the creation of broad united fronts to reject attacks on sovereignty and self-determination. But such open fronts of resistance should in no way sacrifice the construction of combative left-wing movements, independent of the national bourgeoisie, and of shaky governmental progressivism that has shown all its contradictions over the past 25 years.

This also means a clear debate with the many Latin American “campist” currents, as well as at the international level: “geopolitics” cannot lead to sweeping under the rug the struggle against authoritarianism (whatever form it takes) and the necessary unconditional defense of peoples fighting against imperialisms other than Trump’s (starting with Russia). In the countries of the “global North,” the urgent task is to build active and concrete internationalist solidarity. This is what we have begun, albeit timidly, to put in place in France around Venezuela. This internationalism will also have the task of denouncing the hypocrisy and responsibility of our own governments in the disorder of the world and their submission to Trump: Gaza has painfully reminded us of this, as has the scandalous position of the Macron government on Venezuela. In the short term, in March 2026, the anti-fascist conference in Porto Alegre could be a valuable opportunity. We hope that it will also be transformed into an international anti-imperialist conference to try to bring together, without sectarianism, political and social forces that do not agree on everything, such as the PT, the PSOL, the Brazilian CUT, and sectors of the radical left from across the continent, around common objectives. La Via Campesina, trade unions and feminist groups, social movements from all over the world.

In terms of concrete alternatives, we should try to promote the slogan “war on imperialist war” against the current insane militarization, while supporting those who are courageously waging armed resistance movements for liberation, particularly in Ukraine, Palestine, and Kurdistan. Beyond this “defensive” aspect, this means thinking collectively and “positively” about building democratic alternatives in a context of climate collapse, the collapse of the biosphere and biodiversity, and therefore thinking about a post-capitalist and post-productivist transition program, i.e., a perspective that is both eco-socialist and based on degrowth. Degrowth, of course, in rich countries, but “fair” degrowth, differentiated according to intersectional criteria (class, gender, race), and also degrowth for the oligarchies of the countries of the South. This would involve rebuilding public services, radically redistributing wealth, and implementing ecological planning on several scales (from local to global) based on deliberation, community organizing, self-organization, and democratic control. It is a perspective that raises the question of the exploitation and oppression that permeate our societies and affect us as individuals (racism, sexism, ableism, etc.).

All this cannot be “proclaimed” in an abstract way, like a mantra. How can we jointly develop very concrete transitional programs and measures that are part of a broader strategy based on wide-ranging deliberations? Which stories from the past can inspire us and teach us lessons? How can the left once again “enchant the world,” speak to the “affects” of millions of people, and forge a historic bloc that raises the question of power and its conquest, without denying itself or falling into dogmatism? Let’s start by avoiding ready-made answers. The 20th century and its horrors are still with us…

We know that there will be no emancipation without emancipation in the workplace. Rebuilding workers’ rights (both salaried and precarious) could be a first step in this direction. Let us also keep our ears open to utopian ideas and practical experiences. For example, Latin America is the birthplace of Zapatismo and several revolutionary processes, and for the past 20 years these movements have been debating ways to build a society based on “Buen Vivir,” which draws on a reinterpretation of certain demands and community practices of indigenous peoples. The same is true of women’s rights and all feminist demands against patriarchy. We have seen how the Chilean feminist movement has been able to take a cross-cutting and radical approach by responding to the “precarization of life,” confronting neoliberalism, promoting the dignified reception of migrants, and defending the rights of indigenous peoples. We must therefore start from there to think about transitions, applying them country by country, but also by rebuilding regional and international solidarity. In the face of globalized capital, it is essential to think at this level as well. This without giving in to the siren songs of “patriotism” from part of the left, including the decolonial left, assuming that we must indeed “dream” again, reinvent our collective powers, and help to co-construct popular sovereignties at several levels (including the national level, of course).

We believe that the situation is overdetermined by the catastrophe (already underway) of climate change and that we must rethink everything on this basis if we want to avoid a real cataclysm. The famous “transitional program” (proposed by Trotsky in 1938) must therefore be completely rethought. It is this perspective that the Fourth International has brought to the debate, in several languages, with the Manifesto for an Eco-Socialist Revolution – Breaking with Capitalist Growth, and is the result of several years of collective international work. The challenges are colossal: it is urgent to “pull the emergency brake,” to quote Walter Benjamin’s beautiful phrase. However, the scale of the challenges must not paralyze us. As Daniel Tanuro writes, “it is too late to be pessimistic.” Trump, Netanyahu, Macron, Putin, and their world are capable of the worst; let us feel capable of imagining the best!

LA REVUE GAUCHE - Left Comment