The Trump administration’s recent airstrike on a small vessel in the southern Caribbean—allegedly carrying narcotics and members of Venezuela’s Tren de Aragua gang—was not just a military maneuver. It was a signal. A signal that American imperialism, long cloaked in diplomacy and economic influence, is now being rebranded as counterterrorism and narcotics enforcement.
President Trump announced the strike with characteristic bravado, claiming the vessel was operated by “Tren de Aragua Narcoterrorists.”
Trump said on Truth Social: The strike occurred while the terrorists were at sea in International waters transporting illegal narcotics, heading to the United States. No U.S. Forces were harmed in this strike. Please let this serve as notice to anybody even thinking about bringing drugs into the United States of America. BEWARE!”
Eleven people were killed. No trial. No extradition. No independent verification. Just a grainy video and a declaration of guilt from 30,000 feet.
- YouTube www.youtube.com
Defense Secretary Pete Hegseth told Fox News, “This is a deadly serious mission for us, and it won’t stop with just this strike.” That statement should chill anyone who believes in proportionality, sovereignty, or the rule of law.
Let’s be clear: Tren de Aragua is a violent criminal organization. It has been linked to extortion, human trafficking, and regional instability. But according to InSight Crime, it is not a major player in international drug trafficking. And it is certainly not a transnational terrorist threat on par with ISIS or al-Qaeda.
So why the airstrike? Why the escalation?
Legal experts like Mark Nevitt, writing for Just Security, warn that labeling drug traffickers as terrorists could open the door to a new “forever war”—one where the U.S. president claims unchecked authority to kill civilians based on vague affiliations and unverified intelligence. “Applying a new label to an old problem does not transform the problem itself,” Nevitt writes. “Nor does it grant the U.S. president or the U.S. military expanded legal authority to kill civilians.”
This is not just about Venezuela. It’s about the precedent. It’s about the normalization of extrajudicial violence in the name of national security. It’s about the erosion of international norms and the reemergence of a foreign policy rooted in domination rather than diplomacy.
Venezuelan President Nicolás Maduro called the strike “extravagant, unjustifiable, immoral, and absolutely criminal.” While Maduro’s own record on human rights is deeply troubling, his condemnation of the strike raises legitimate questions about sovereignty and the weaponization of U.S. power.
This is not the first time the U.S. has used Latin America as a proving ground for its military ambitions. From the Monroe Doctrine to the Cold War to the War on Drugs, the region has long been treated as a backyard—ripe for intervention, manipulation, and control.
But today’s imperialism is different. It’s not about boots on the ground. It’s about drones in the sky, algorithms in the war room, and narratives crafted to justify violence. It’s about redefining threats to fit political agendas and using military force to send messages rather than solve problems.
Mainstream media should not treat this strike as a one-off event. It is part of a pattern—a pattern of expanding executive power, eroding legal standards, and militarizing foreign policy under the guise of public safety.
We owe it to the public we serve to ask harder questions: Who decides who is a terrorist? What evidence is required before a missile is launched? And what happens when the line between law enforcement and warfare disappears altogether?
This is not just a story about a boat in the Caribbean. It’s a story about the future of American power—and whether we will continue to accept its most dangerous expressions without scrutiny or consequence.
Hugo Balta is the executive editor of the Fulcrum and the publisher of the Latino News Network. Balta is the only person to serve twice as president of the National Association of Hispanic Journalists (NAHJ).
A golden tray sits on the Resolute Desk as President Donald Trump speaks during an announcement on American nuclear innovation in the Oval Office at the White House on July 24, 2026, in Washington, D.C. Trump is signing multiple executive orders targeting the nuclear energy sector and easing rules for new reactors and nuclear fuel supply chains.
Trump’s hubris rivals the fallen heroes of ancient Greek mythology
In January, the New York Times asked President Donald Trump if there were any limits on his global powers.
“Yeah,” the president responded, “there is one thing. My own morality. My own mind. It’s the only thing that can stop me.”
That was eight months ago, but fortunately Christopher Nolan’s blockbuster adaptation of “The Odyssey” has made ancient Greek literature newly relevant. Before that window closes, I’d like to talk about hubris.
Today, the term mostly means excessive pride or arrogance. That’s part of what the Greeks meant by it too, but the meaning was a bit richer and more specific. Hubris was an insolent or outrageous act that offended the gods, often because the transgressor was claiming abilities or authorities that solely belonged to supreme beings.
Nolan renamed and slightly modified the concept of xenia for the film, calling it “Zeus’ law.” In the director’s telling, mortals should follow the rules laid out by the gods, specifically the requirement to treat strangers with respect lest they be gods in disguise.
In a sense, hubris is the opposite, or at least the rejection, of xenia. The hubris of the suitors, and at times Odysseus himself, invites punishment by the gods and their mortal instruments.
Which brings me back to Donald Trump. His claim that there are no constraints on his personal power to dictate events on the global stage was one of the greatest expressions of hubris ever uttered by a political leader.
Trump’s claim was obviously false when he made it.
He vowed that he could end the Russia-Ukraine war in 24 hours. He’s proved powerless to make that happen. If he had divine powers to work his will, why would he have balked at implementing his tariffs so often that Wall Street adopted the “TACO trade” term for his deals? “TACO” stands for “Trump always chickens out.”
And why would Trump have made so many embarrassing concessions to China — from rescinding tariffs on Chinese goods to allowing them to buy crucial and incredibly valuable computer chips?
But Trump saw his success at capturing Venezuelan strongman Nicolas Maduro as proof of his ability to launch missiles to the same effect as Zeus’ lightning bolts. Trump believed he was the most powerful man who ever lived.
This is no exaggeration. In March, when the Iran invasion seemed successful, Trump gave a document penned by“Presidential Historian David King” to New York Times reporters Maggie Haberman and Jonathan Swan purporting to prove that Trump was “the most powerful person to have EVER walked this planet.” King was, in fact, a businessman and occasional caddy for legendary golfer Gary Player.
King compared Trump favorably to many of history’s most powerful, and often heinous, figures: Alexander the Great, Attila the Hun, William the Conqueror, Napoleon Bonaparte, Joseph Stalin, Genghis Khan, Mao Tse Tung, Adolf Hitler and Vladimir Lenin. Many of these men thought they were the most powerful person in the world, too. And many were defeated precisely because they believed it.
At least Napoleon and Hitler had a string of truly impressive victories before they learned the folly of hubris. The limits on Trump’s power have been exposed by far less august forces than the combined might of the allies in World War II or the fearsome Russian winter.
Iran is a comparatively middling power. But the regime’s ability to absorb punishment while imposing its will on the Strait of Hormuz has proved to be a greater constraint on Trump’s power than his morality or mind. We should note that, at least rhetorically, his morality has not proved much of a constraint. He has repeatedly promised to destroy Iranian “civilization” if the regime refuses to capitulate.
But they haven’t — and won’t anytime soon — because the regime’s tolerance for pain far outstrips Trump’s. The combined fear of skyrocketing oil prices, outrage of Gulf state potentates, diminishing weapon supplies and domestic unpopularity is doing the work that international law, congressional oversight and the collective opinion of foreign policy experts can’t or won’t do.
If I considered Trump more heroic than reason and facts could allow, I would say his Sisyphean predicament has the whiff of Greek tragedy to it. Trump is vexed by the fact that the Iranians won’t honor deals or ratify his countless premature claims of victory — giving new meaning to his vow that his presidency would make people tired of winning. It’s almost like they’re out-Trumping Trump.
Things might have gone better if he’d heeded that great Greek tragedian Sophocles: “For Zeus utterly abhors the boasts of a proud tongue.”
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Jonah Goldberg is editor-in-chief of The Dispatch and the host of The Remnant podcast. His Twitter handle is @JonahDispatch.