
By James Williams
This is not a pro-Trump argument. It’s a pro-America analysis.
Strip away the legal debates, the constitutional outrage, and the partisan noise, and one reality remains: this was a geopolitical power play, executed deliberately, with a clear objective and measurable results.
When Donald Trump ordered U.S. military action that resulted in the removal of Nicolás Maduro, the point wasn’t Venezuela’s internal politics, democratic theory, or congressional process. The point was power—specifically, ending Russia and China’s foothold in the Western Hemisphere.
On paper, critics argue the authority wasn’t there. There was no declaration of war, no Authorization for Use of Military Force, and no congressional vote approving the operation. By traditional constitutional readings, the move was controversial. But the order was given anyway. The operation happened. And no institution reversed it.
That’s the part that matters.
The War Powers framework exists to prevent unilateral presidential action. In practice, those limits only exist if someone enforces them. In this case, no one did. There was no imminent Venezuelan attack on the United States. No ticking-clock emergency. No legislative approval. Still, the military moved. Courts stayed silent. Congress objected rhetorically but never cut funding. And because there were no consequences, the action stands.
This is where Americans often misunderstand power. Power is not defined by what the law says you’re supposed to do. Power is defined by what you do—and get away with.
Venezuela mattered because it was the single most valuable geopolitical asset Russia and China possessed anywhere near U.S. borders. Venezuela holds the largest proven oil reserves on Earth, concentrated in the Orinoco Belt. Under Maduro, those reserves became leverage. Russia used them to secure oil ventures, evade sanctions, and maintain a symbolic but real presence in the Americas. China used them to lock in oil-for-debt arrangements that guaranteed discounted crude and long-term influence over Venezuelan energy policy.
Venezuela wasn’t just aligned with Moscow and Beijing. It anchored their influence in the Western Hemisphere.
Trump pulled that anchor.
The impact on Russia was immediate and severe. Losing Venezuela meant losing its only meaningful political foothold in Latin America and its only credible pressure point near U.S. territory. Russian oil contracts now face review or cancellation, and the sanctions-evasion routes that once ran through Caracas are collapsing. More importantly, Russia no longer has a hemispheric presence. It is pushed back into a regional posture—Eurasia only. In geopolitical terms, that is a demotion.
China’s loss is quieter but just as consequential. China built its Venezuela strategy on debt, dependency, and oil. Billions in loans were repaid in crude, giving Beijing leverage with little transparency and few constraints. A U.S.-aligned Venezuela disrupts that entire model. Oil exports are likely to be redirected toward U.S. Gulf Coast refineries, contracts reopened to Western companies, and oil-backed debt arrangements reexamined. China isn’t expelled from Venezuela—but it’s downgraded, from strategic partner to ordinary buyer, from rule-setter to rule-taker.
That distinction is everything.
This wasn’t a conventional military strike. It was an energy strike. Control of Venezuela means influence over global oil supply, OPEC dynamics, sanctions enforcement, and pricing pressure on adversaries. By flipping Venezuela, the United States undercut Russian crude pricing, reduced China’s access to discounted heavy oil, and reasserted control over hemispheric energy flows. Oil isn’t just fuel—it’s leverage. And that leverage just shifted west.
The message sent—to allies and adversaries alike—was unmistakable. Russia does not get a base of influence in the Western Hemisphere. China does not get strategic oil leverage in the Americas. And the United States will act first and argue later.
People who can’t stand Trump will complain about this endlessly. They’ll argue norms, decorum, legality, and process. That reaction is predictable—and beside the point. Americans who understand power will recognize this for what it is: one of the strongest geopolitical moves the United States has made in decades.
This wasn’t about being liked. It was about results. Russia lost its Western Hemisphere foothold. China lost oil leverage in the Americas. The United States reclaimed dominance over the most strategically important energy position on the planet.
In the end, the argument that Trump didn’t have the power misses the point entirely. He had the power because he used it. The order was given, the military executed it, and no institution reversed it. That is power in its purest form.
Trump didn’t break the system. He exposed it.
And unless Congress reasserts its authority, this precedent will outlive him. Every future president—Democrat or Republican—will inherit the same unchecked power, justified by the same silence.
History won’t remember the complaints.
It will remember that the United States reasserted dominance in its own hemisphere—and no one could stop it.