The Caracas Playbook: Oil, Narco-Politics, and a Few Dollars More

Venezuela today is no anomaly. It is a familiar Latin American configuration pushed to an extreme: an authoritarian regime sustained by security services, ideological rhetoric hollowed out by corruption, and a state economy fused with illicit finance. What makes the current confrontation distinctive is not its moral framing but its timing. The collision between Caracas and Washington now unfolds amid an energy transition, intensifying great-power rivalry, and the return of overt coercion as a tool of U.S. hemispheric policy.

The removal of Nicolás Maduro by U.S. forces, justified by narco-terrorism charges, marks a shift from prolonged pressure to decisive intervention. This raises questions about regional stability and the potential for escalation, which are crucial for policymakers and analysts assessing U.S. strategy and Latin American security dynamics.

The implications extend beyond Caracas. Emerging powers such as India, which prize strategic autonomy and energy security, now face a future shaped by the risks of hollow governance and unstable regimes, underscoring the importance of long-term stability for the region.

The Monroe Doctrine, Updated

The United States need not explicitly invoke the Monroe Doctrine for it to operate. The logic is embedded in policy muscle memory: the Western Hemisphere remains a privileged zone in which external powers may trade but not entrench. Any durable Russian or Chinese security footprint in Latin America is treated not as competition but as provocation.

What has changed is the rhetorical packaging. Intervention is now framed as upholding a “rules-based order,” even as those rules are selectively enforced. International law has little deterrent value when veto-wielding states pursue core interests.

Ukraine, Gaza, and now Venezuela all illustrate the same structural reality: the global system constrains weak actors but affords considerable latitude to strong actors.

The United Nations, hamstrung by permanent-member vetoes and geopolitical paralysis, has been reduced to a post-facto debating chamber. It registers objections; it does not prevent outcomes. In this environment, legality follows power rather than the reverse. Venezuela’s fate was never going to be decided in New York. It was decided in Washington, with an eye on Beijing and Moscow.

Caracas as a Security State

Venezuela’s internal order before the intervention rested on a narrow but resilient coalition. The ruling party, senior military officers, and foreign security advisers formed a closed loop of survival. Elections existed, but only as managed rituals. Opposition candidates were disqualified, fragmented, or neutralised. Institutions remained formally intact while being hollowed out in practice.

Cuban advisers played a critical role in this architecture. Their function was not economic management but regime protection: intelligence coordination, internal surveillance, counter-intelligence, and the training of elite units. The model was simple and effective. Living standards could collapse so long as the security apparatus remained paid, loyal, and feared.

Sanctions accelerated economic decay but did not cause regime collapse. Instead, they reinforced inward-looking survival strategies. The leadership prioritised access to hard currency through oil smuggling, gold extraction, and illicit trade. Ordinary Venezuelans bore the costs through inflation, emigration, and institutional breakdown. The state ceased to function as a developmental entity and instead operated as a protection racket with international connections.

Narco-Terrorism as a Strategic Narrative

Washington’s framing of its intervention relied on the language of narco-terrorism. Maduro and his inner circle were depicted not merely as corrupt officials but as criminal conspirators embedded in global drug networks. This framing served two purposes. Legally, it lowered the threshold for extraterritorial action. Politically, it collapsed the distinction between regime change and law enforcement.

The problem with this narrative is not that corruption and trafficking were absent. They were real and extensive. The issue is selectivity. Venezuela is not the central artery for narcotics entering the United States. Mexico and Colombia play far larger roles in fentanyl and cocaine flows. Yet neither is subject to regime-ending military action.

What differentiates Venezuela is not just drugs but also its vast resource wealth-oil, gold, and minerals-that illicit networks and mismanagement have stranded, highlighting the complex influence of resource control on strategic calculations.

Narco-terrorism, in this sense, functioned less as a diagnosis than as a permission structure. It justified a move that was always about energy, influence, and signalling rather than public health.

For over a decade, Venezuela sat at the crossroads of great-power rivalry, with China, Russia, and the U.S. vying for influence, underscoring the high-stakes nature of the external competition behind the curtain.

For over a decade, Venezuela stood at the crossroads of competing external patrons. China extended massive loans tied to oil deliveries, cementing itself as the primary economic lifeline. Russia provided arms, training, and diplomatic cover, using Venezuela as a platform to signal global reach. The United States responded with sanctions, covert pressure, and diplomatic isolation.

The recent intervention resets this balance. It sends a clear message: economic presence without political submission is no longer tolerated in the hemisphere. Chinese and Russian investments are now subject to renegotiation under U.S. oversight. Public condemnations from Beijing and Moscow mask a quieter recalibration. Their priority is asset preservation rather than escalation.

This dual-track behaviour is not new. Great powers often accept faits accomplis while salvaging long-term interests through back channels. Ideological rhetoric satisfies domestic audiences; pragmatic bargaining secures future access. The Venezuelan population, whose political agency has been repeatedly overridden by both domestic elites and external powers, remains marginal to these calculations.

India’s Calculated Exposure

India’s stake in Venezuela is modest but non-trivial. State-linked firms invested in upstream projects and accumulated unpaid dues during the years of sanctions and production collapse. Venezuelan heavy crude also figured in India’s long-term diversification strategy, reducing dependence on Gulf suppliers.

The intervention creates both risk and opportunity. In the short term, any disruption to output or global prices can ripple through to inflation and currency pressures. In the medium term, a U.S.-managed restructuring of Venezuela’s energy sector could unlock stalled projects and allow India to recover dues—provided it navigates sanctions regimes and licensing constraints.

Diplomatically, the episode underscores India’s balancing act. New Delhi continues to speak the language of sovereignty and dialogue while deepening strategic ties with Washington. At the same time, it maintains working relationships with Russia and China, both of which oppose U.S. interventionism but lack the leverage to reverse outcomes in the hemisphere.

Venezuela thus becomes another test case of whether strategic autonomy is sustainable in an era where great-power expectations are increasingly explicit and transactional.

Nicaragua as Precedent, Not Exception

The Venezuelan story echoes late Cold War interventions, particularly in Nicaragua in the 1980s. Then, as now, Washington framed its actions as defensive and moral. Then, as now, covert funding, proxy forces, and the selective tolerance of criminal networks were justified by higher strategic goals.

In Nicaragua, the objective was to prevent a leftist government aligned with Cuba and the Soviet Union from consolidating power. The means included arming insurgents, manipulating political factions, and tolerating the flow of narcotics that financed operations. The result was prolonged violence, institutional damage, and social trauma that outlasted the conflict.

Venezuela differs in form but not in logic. Instead of a drawn-out proxy war, the U.S. employed precision operations, financial coercion, and information dominance to achieve a rapid outcome. The vocabulary has evolved—from anti-communism to anti-narcoterrorism—but the strategic instinct remains intact.

Oil, Minerals, and the Real Prize

In both Nicaragua and Venezuela, ideology served as a cover. The real prizes were strategic positioning and economic leverage. In today’s context, Venezuela’s oil and mineral reserves take on greater importance amid energy transitions and supply chain competition.

Control does not necessarily mean ownership. It means shaping regulatory frameworks, investment access, and export routes. A compliant or weakened government is sufficient. Full democracy is optional; predictability is not.

History suggests that such interventions rarely produce institutional renewal. Instead, they tend to reconfigure elite bargains. Old power brokers are replaced or recycled. New patronage networks emerge. The underlying political economy—rent extraction, external dependence, and weak accountability—remains intact.

Buying Loyalty, Then and Now

From Managua to Caracas, one pattern recurs with depressing consistency: the commodification of loyalty. Political figures, military officers, and armed groups align not with abstract principles but with revenue streams. Funding, protection, and legal cover determine allegiance more reliably than ideology.

In Nicaragua, U.S. money sustained entire networks whose cohesion depended on continued flows of arms and cash. When those flows shifted, factions splintered, and violence turned inward. The same dynamics are evident in Venezuela’s broader ecosystem.

Today’s transactions are more sophisticated. Instead of suitcases of cash, influence is bought through credit lines, sanctions exemptions, oil swaps, and promises of future licensing. Opposition figures rebrand themselves with new external sponsors. Former insiders offer intelligence and access in exchange for protection and relevance.

This is not a moral failing unique to Venezuela. It is a structural feature of states where institutions are weak and external leverage is substantial. Politics becomes a marketplace. Citizens are not participants but costs.

What Remains After the Buyers Leave

The long-term risk is not instability alone but hollowness. Interventions that prioritise access and alignment over institutional rebuilding tend to leave behind brittle systems. Security services remain powerful. Economic inequality deepens. Public trust erodes further.

For Venezuela, the question is not whether Maduro’s removal improves conditions in the short term. It is whether the underlying logic of governance changes at all. History offers little cause for optimism. When power is bought rather than built, it rarely delivers durable legitimacy.

In the international system, the episode marks a return to a more pronounced hierarchy. Regional autonomy persists until it collides with core interests. Rules apply unevenly. Emerging powers are expected to adapt rather than object.

Venezuela’s tragedy is not merely domestic. It is emblematic. In a world where influence is openly traded and enforcement follows power, politicians and their enforcers will continue to sell what they control. For a few dollars more, the script repeats itself.