Early on Saturday morning, U.S. President Donald Trump announced that the United States had attacked Venezuela and captured President Nicolás Maduro and his wife. It is hard to exaggerate the historical significance of these events.
Whatever one thinks of Maduro’s catastrophic rule—or of Trump’s stated objectives to “run” the country and take control of its oil reserves—the use of overt U.S. military force against a South American government marks a profound rupture of regional precedent. Its consequences will extend far beyond Venezuela itself.
Early on Saturday morning, U.S. President Donald Trump announced that the United States had attacked Venezuela and captured President Nicolás Maduro and his wife. It is hard to exaggerate the historical significance of these events.
Whatever one thinks of Maduro’s catastrophic rule—or of Trump’s stated objectives to “run” the country and take control of its oil reserves—the use of overt U.S. military force against a South American government marks a profound rupture of regional precedent. Its consequences will extend far beyond Venezuela itself.
Many analysts have described the U.S. military strikes on Venezuela as the first direct U.S. military intervention in Latin America since Panama in 1989. However, that framing understates the significance of what has just occurred in Caracas. Latin America is not a single strategic space; ties between South and Central American countries can be limited.
Trump’s toppling of Maduro is the first time that the United States has launched overt military strikes against a South American government aimed at regime change. (Washington covertly supported several dictatorships on the continent during the Cold War.) For a region that has long prided itself on being among the world’s lowest-risk geopolitical zones—largely free of interstate war—Maduro’s ouster is a watershed moment.
From the perspective of South American countries such as Brazil or Chile, the 1989 U.S. invasion of Panama was troubling but remote. Panama is a small Central American nation, historically entangled with U.S. strategic interests surrounding its eponymous canal. Venezuela is different. It is a large, politically influential South American country and home to the world’s largest proven oil reserves. The latest U.S. military action will force defense establishment leaders across the continent to reassess their own vulnerabilities to Washington’s power—something that few have seriously contemplated in recent decades.
For much of the post-Cold War era, South American countries operated under the assumption that, whatever disagreements they might have with Washington, the era of direct U.S. military intervention had ended. The U.S. strike on Venezuela shattered that illusion. Even governments that remain broadly aligned with the United States will now be compelled to consider uncomfortable questions about deterrence, autonomy, procurement, and strategic hedging.
So far, South American leaders’ public reactions to the U.S. overthrow of Maduro have tracked politically. Argentine President Javier Milei—a far-right Trump ally—applauded the strikes and capture of Maduro as a blow against authoritarianism, while leftist Brazilian President Luiz Inácio Lula da Silva condemned them as violations of sovereignty and international law.
But behind closed doors, the region’s military planners likely view the United States’ actions as deeply unsettling. They will accelerate debates about how to reduce dependence on Washington, diversify external partnerships, and strengthen national and regional defense capabilities.
Those debates might not necessarily translate into immediate policy shifts, but they will shape long-term strategic thinking. Countries such as Brazil, Chile, and Colombia—two of which hold elections this year—may place greater emphasis on boosting domestic defense industries, deepening security ties with extra-regional partners, or investing more heavily in capabilities designed to complicate external coercion. Even if no country openly frames these moves as hedging against Washington, that is how they will be understood.
It is unclear what will occur next in Venezuela itself. With Maduro captured, power is suddenly up for grabs. Three figures could shape the country’s future.
Delcy Rodríguez, who served as Maduro’s vice president, is a seasoned regime insider with extensive diplomatic experience and strong ties to Cuba, Russia, and Iran. Interior Minister Diosdado Cabello, long one of the most feared regime figures, commands influence over internal security forces and represents the regime’s hard-line core. Defense Minister Vladimir Padrino López, meanwhile, holds the most decisive card of all: the loyalty of the armed forces.
Washington may be less interested in a clean opposition takeover of Venezuela than many observers had assumed. Rodríguez reportedly spoke to U.S. Secretary of State Marco Rubio before the invasion, fueling speculation that she may have reached some form of understanding with the Trump administration.
Trump’s own remarks point in that direction. During a press conference on Saturday, he appeared to distance himself from the idea of installing opposition leader and 2025 Nobel Peace Prize laureate María Corina Machado as president. “I think it would be very tough for her to be the leader. She doesn’t have the support within—or the respect within—the country,” Trump said. “She’s a very nice woman, but she doesn’t have the respect.”
Trump’s comments suggest that Washington may be prioritizing stability over a rapid transition to an opposition-led government. If so, Venezuela’s post-Maduro trajectory could look very different from what many Venezuelans hope for.
Three broad scenarios loom. The first is a largely symbolic U.S. victory, in which—aside from Maduro’s capture—Venezuela’s regime remains more or less intact, with Rodríguez or another ally formally taking the reins. It is far from clear that the White House is willing to commit the sustained political attention, resources, and administrative capacity that actual governance of Venezuela would require. Washington would declare success and selectively ease or recalibrate sanctions, and the underlying power structure in Caracas would survive.
A second scenario would be regime collapse, fueled via large-scale domestic mobilization and elite defection—including within the military. The likelihood of this outcome depends on popular reactions to Maduro’s capture in Caracas and other major cities, as well as on whether the military apparatus concludes that the costs of continued repression outweigh the benefits of preserving order.
The third scenario would involve prolonged U.S. pressure—including possible additional military strikes—aimed at forcing a deeper political transformation in Venezuela. This path would entail sustained coercion, a continued U.S. security presence, and an open-ended commitment whose costs could quickly escalate. It would also amplify regional anxieties about U.S. behavior, reinforcing perceptions that Washington is prepared to use force to shape political outcomes in South America.
Whichever scenario prevails will shape not only Venezuela’s future, but also South America’s strategic landscape for years to come. Washington’s actions toward Venezuela in recent months have already altered perceptions of risk, power, and precedent throughout the Western Hemisphere. Even if Venezuela eventually stabilizes, the idea that South America is insulated from great-power military intervention exists no more.
