The image of Nicolas Maduro, blindfolded and handcuffed aboard a US aircraft carrier, is clearly staged to demonstrate American military prowess. But for the rest of the world, the scene signals something else: the end of the very international order America once claimed to uphold. Despite Washington’s narrative, this was not merely a “law enforcement operation,” but a calculated geopolitical move serving the interests of the US.

The message Trump sends through this operation is unmistakable: the US has shifted its global strategy from maintenance to extraction. The nation that once assumed the mantle of the “Global Policeman” has left the building; the “Global Predator” has arrived.

America’s change of role may seem brutal, but the driving logic is rational. When a superpower can no longer generate value through internal growth, it inevitably turns to external extraction. Consider the $38 trillion US national debt that is mathematically impossible to repay. Washington knows it cannot re-industrialize America any time soon, nor can it indefinitely sustain the financial bubble it has created with Wall Street. No wonder Trump is eyeing the oil in Venezuela—of course, not just to extract value, but to block its connections with emerging economies like China and Russia.

Yet, here comes the irony. Capital craves certainty. It requires a predictable legal framework, stable supply chains, and respected borders to function. But by “normalizing” the abduction of a sovereign head of state, which effectively erases the concepts of national sovereignty and international law—Washington has transformed itself from the co-author of global stability into its most volatile annuler.

According to media reports, in less than a year, America has launched military operations in seven nations—including Venezuela, Yemen, Syria, Iran, Iraq, Somalia and Nigeria. Since the beginning of Trump’s second term, the US has carried out 622 airstrikes in total on other nations.

The “America First” doctrine has devolved into a strategy of unpredictability. For global supply chains and sovereign wealth funds alike, the US is becoming the primary source of risk within the rules-based order. The problem is: one cannot invest in a system where the “policeman” starts to pickpocket and even plunder his neighbors.

This is why the raid on Caracas reveals the bankruptcy of America’s legitimacy. America’s global influence rested not just on its aircraft carriers or special troops, but on its moral appeal. But what Washington did to Venezuela, along with what it threatened to do to Colombia, Cuba and even Greenland, has shattered the public image it has carefully cultivated for decades. America still has hard power, but its soft power—the ability to lead by charisma rather than coercion—is evaporating.

Notably, while the US gets to take away the oil it wants, its transatlantic allies may be left to foot the bill. Consider Spain. It has deep diplomatic and economic involvement in Venezuela. The regime change may well trigger a new round of refugee crises and political disturbances, neither of which is in the interests of Spain.

The raid on Caracas may look similar to America’s 1989 invasion of Panama, but the historical context is fundamentally different. In 1989, removing Manuel Noriega was a low-risk decision when the US was about to become the only superpower. Today, targeting Maduro is a gambling move in a world where the Global South nations, including Venezuela, have awakened and are ready to build a new multipolar order.

If the developing world, seeing what has happened to Venezuela, adopts a pragmatic “hedging” strategy and becomes more closely united, it should come as no surprise. In fact, this trend is hardly new. Think about the expansion of BRICS in 2024-25: Egypt, Ethiopia, Indonesia, Iran, Saudi Arabia, and the United Arab Emirates were admitted as new members, while the number of partner countries increased to ten. With a hegemon that has a reputation of disregarding sovereignty as it sees fit, one cannot blame the Global South for seeking insurance.

Ibero-America clearly does not want to remain the “backyard” of the US, hence its efforts to assert independence and sovereignty. Its engagement with Europe, China, or the broader Global South is less a political or ideological choice than a functional necessity. After all, sovereignty is not written in treaties, but poured in concrete.

With the Caracas raid and similar long-arm or extraterritorial jurisdiction cases, the Global South has learned a lesson the hard way: financial assets stored in Western banks are vulnerable in front of a financial system weaponized and controlled by Washington. In contrast, a railway on your own soil cannot be abducted or frozen by a sanction committee.

This is why China’s infrastructure-first approach is welcome and works. In Peru, the Chancay Port slashes shipping times to Shanghai from 35-40 to 23 days, offering South America a sovereign Pacific gateway that bypasses the congested Panama Canal. In Colombia, the Bogotá Metro Line 1 is helping to resolve the city’s traffic gridlock. Meanwhile, Brazil’s Belo Monte ultra-high-voltage lines transport clean energy 2,500 kilometers across the continent. These projects, either built by Chinese firms or led by them in development, construction and operation, not only boost the local real economy, but form a material foundation for true national agency and autonomy.

Washington may succeed in asserting control over its “backyard.” It may revive the spirit of the Monroe Doctrine in an era that has outgrown it. But in a world that is increasingly multipolar, this “victory” may turn out to be a tactical “win” that leads to a strategic defeat. In the future, the raid on Caracas will be remembered not as a show of strength, but as a catalyst for a new global order.

The post From Global Policeman to Global Predator: Why the Raid on Caracas Changes Everything first appeared on The Spine Times.

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