The removal of Nicolás Maduro should be understood less as a dramatic intervention in Venezuela’s internal politics than as a calculated move within a wider contest between great powers. Stripped of its rhetorical framing, the action fits squarely into the logic of geopolitical competition at a time when relations between the United States, Russia, and China are increasingly defined by spheres of influence rather than universal norms.
For years, Venezuela has occupied an anomalous position in the Western Hemisphere. Economically collapsed, diplomatically isolated, and heavily sanctioned, it nonetheless served as a useful foothold for U.S. rivals. Russia leveraged Caracas to project influence close to American territory, combining arms sales, energy cooperation, and intelligence ties to signal that U.S. dominance in its own region could be challenged. China, meanwhile, treated Venezuela as a long-term strategic investment, extending large loans backed by oil exports and embedding itself in the country’s infrastructure in exchange for political alignment. The result was a state of limited internal capacity but outsized geopolitical significance.
From Washington’s perspective, this situation was inherently unstable. Great powers may tolerate unfriendly governments abroad, but they rarely accept sustained rival penetration in areas they consider strategically proximate. The move against Maduro therefore resembles a contemporary assertion of hemispheric primacy—less an explicit revival of the Monroe Doctrine than its quiet enforcement under modern conditions. The message is not ideological, but positional: external powers are free to compete globally, but not without consequence in regions where U.S. military and logistical superiority remains overwhelming.
The implications for Russia are relatively straightforward. Venezuela offered Moscow a low-cost means of exerting pressure on the United States far from Europe, allowing it to signal global reach while avoiding direct confrontation. Removing that platform narrows Russia’s strategic options and reinforces an implicit boundary in the emerging international order. Ukraine may remain contested terrain, but Latin America does not. This does not decisively shift the global balance, but it forces Russia to concentrate its resources closer to home, where the costs of influence are higher.
For China, the episode carries a different lesson. Beijing’s approach to Venezuela was grounded in economic statecraft: capital, infrastructure, and long-term commodity access in exchange for political reliability. The sudden collapse of that arrangement underscores a persistent vulnerability in China’s overseas strategy. Economic leverage, absent security guarantees or decisive local legitimacy, remains exposed to regime change—particularly in regions where the United States retains unmatched coercive capacity. In practical terms, the event reinforces a reality Chinese policymakers already recognize: outside East Asia, political risk remains tightly bound to American power.
Donald Trump’s role in this episode is not incidental. His willingness to disregard diplomatic conventions and absorb international criticism lowered the political barriers to decisive action. Where a more traditional administration might have prioritized multilateral consensus or feared precedent-setting consequences, Trump’s approach emphasizes immediate leverage and demonstrable outcomes. Whether this style produces long-term stability is debatable, but it aligns with the prevailing logic of competitive explain the move.
None of this suggests the absence of risk. Venezuela’s political disruption carries consequences for regional stability, migration flows, and energy markets, and it invites asymmetric responses elsewhere. More broadly, such actions contribute to the erosion of constraints that once limited overt power projection. Yet these risks are increasingly treated as manageable costs rather than prohibitive barriers in a system where deterrence, signaling, and geographic advantage have regained prominence.
Seen in context, the removal of Maduro is less an outlier than part of a broader pattern. Russia asserts itself in its near abroad, China tests the limits of U.S. resolve in maritime Asia, and the United States reinforces its position in the Western Hemisphere. The language of a rules-based order remains, but practice is increasingly shaped by hierarchy and proximity. Influence is defended where it matters most, not where principles are easiest to articulate.
In that sense, the episode reflects a reversion rather than a rupture. It illustrates how major powers now act in a world where competition is no longer constrained by post–Cold War optimism. Whether this trend leads to greater stability or deeper fragmentation remains uncertain. What is clear is that power politics, long declared dormant, is once again setting the terms of international behavior.
John Wolf, January 4th 2026
Ph.D. Law and Security
Nova School of Law, Lisbon
