President Donald Trump convened more than a dozen major oil executives at the White House on Friday afternoon to explore potential investment opportunities in Venezuela, coming just days after the United States removed President Nicolás Maduro from power.
Trump invoked a national emergency to protect Venezuelan oil revenues controlled by the U.S. government from being seized by private creditors, casting the move as essential to safeguarding American national security and preserving stability across the region.
The dramatic U.S. raid that captured Nicolás Maduro has been framed as a decisive blow against corruption, drug trafficking, and authoritarianism. But the facts emerging in the days since tell a far more complicated story — one that raises uncomfortable questions about American motives, regional stability, and the future of U.S. foreign policy in the Western Hemisphere.
If this were truly a mission driven by humanitarian concern or a desire to protect Americans from narcotics, it is striking how quickly the conversation shifted to petroleum and investment opportunities. The timing alone suggests that oil was not an afterthought — it was a central consideration.
The Trump administration has issued threats not only to Venezuela’s acting leadership but also to Colombia and Cuba. It has revived talk of acquiring Greenland. These statements, taken together, paint a picture of a government increasingly comfortable with the language of coercion and territorial ambition.
Americans themselves appear uneasy. Polling shows the public is split on the raid, with many still forming opinions. Nearly half oppose the idea of the United States taking control of Venezuela or choosing its next government. An overwhelming majority believe Venezuelans should decide their own political future. That instinct — a respect for sovereignty and self-determination — is one the United States would do well to heed.
None of this is to deny that Maduro faced serious allegations or that Venezuela has suffered deeply under his rule. But the manner of his removal, the immediate pivot to oil negotiations, and the administration’s increasingly expansionist posture raise legitimate concerns about what truly motivated this operation — and what might come next.
The Western Hemisphere has a long memory of U.S. interventions justified in the name of democracy but driven by strategic or economic interests. If the United States wants to avoid repeating that history, it must be transparent about its goals, restrained in its ambitions, and respectful of the sovereignty of its neighbors.
Venezuela is part of a broader, more aggressive vision of American power — one that extends from the oil fields of Venezuela to the mineral-rich ice of Greenland.
Trump’s fixation on acquiring Greenland is not new, but the timing and intensity of his renewed push are telling. Fresh off a military operation in South America, he told reporters that Greenland is “so strategic” and claimed the island is “covered with Russian and Chinese ships.” The White House then confirmed it was considering “a range of options” to bring the self-governing Danish territory under U.S. control — including the use of the military.
European leaders were alarmed. Denmark warned that such a move would effectively end NATO. Greenlanders themselves overwhelmingly oppose U.S. control. Yet the administration pressed forward.
Why? Because Greenland is not just a frozen island. It is a geopolitical jackpot.
The territory sits between the U.S. and Russia, straddling emerging Arctic shipping routes that could dramatically shorten global trade paths as ice melts. It lies atop vast reserves of oil, gas, and some of the world’s most valuable rare earth minerals — the same minerals China has used to pressure the United States. Analysts note that Greenland may be one of the most strategically important pieces of real estate for the next half-century.
In other words: this is not about democracy. It is about leverage.
When you place Greenland and Venezuela side by side, the pattern becomes impossible to miss — a foreign policy driven by the acquisition of land, resources, and strategic advantage, one that demands scrutiny, accountability, and a sober understanding of the costs of intervention.
Trump’s Venezuela Agenda Isn’t Justice — It’s Profit was first published on Latino News Network.
Hugo Balta is the publisher of the Latino News Network executive editor of The Fulcrum.
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.