Josh Hawley, the Populist Who Is Discovering the Limits of Imperialism

Among the five Republican senators who defected, Josh Hawley’s case is perhaps the most revealing of the tensions running through the party. A representative from Missouri, Hawley had established himself in recent years as one of the most ardent defenders of the Trumpist agenda—a fierce economic nationalist who had never shown the slightest reluctance to use American power to defend national interests. Yet it was he who articulated the most powerful constitutional argument against Trump’s ambitions in Venezuela. “As far as Venezuela is concerned, my reading of the Constitution is that if the president deems it necessary to put boots on the ground there in the future, Congress should vote on it. That is why I voted yes on this morning’s resolution,” he declared with a candor that was disconcerting to his Trumpist allies.

Hawley’s position is particularly significant because it reveals the deep contradictions within Trumpist nationalism. On the one hand, there is the “America First” ideology, which champions American power and rejects international constraints. On the other, there is the political reality of an electoral base that is increasingly weary of foreign wars and skeptical of costly military interventions. Hawley, like many populists, understands this ambivalence perfectly. He knows that his constituents in Missouri, like those in many Midwestern states, are tired of seeing their sons and daughters die in distant conflicts whose stakes they do not always understand. By invoking the Constitution, Hawley is not merely making a legal argument: he is responding to a deep-seated demand from his electoral base for greater democratic oversight of war decisions. It is a shrewd political calculation that could inspire other Republicans to join this growing rebellion.

Lisa Murkowski, Todd Young, and the Establishment’s Resistance

While Hawley represents the party’s populist wing, Lisa Murkowski (Alaska) and Todd Young (Indiana) embody the resistance of the traditional Republican establishment. Murkowski, a veteran of the Senate known for her independence, had already supported the first attempt at a resolution in November. Her position has therefore not changed, but her vote carries more weight this time around, as she is no longer isolated. Todd Young, a former Marine and representative from Indiana, has raised very pragmatic concerns: “The president and members of his team have stated that the United States now ‘leads’ Venezuela.” It is unclear whether this means that a U.S. military presence will be necessary to stabilize the country. I—along with what I believe to be the vast majority of Hoosiers—am not prepared to commit U.S. troops to this mission,” he explained in a statement.

These two senators represent what remains of the Republican Party’s foreign policy establishment—the wing that still believes in traditional alliances, strategic prudence, and the need to build international coalitions before committing military forces. Their opposition to Trump is not ideological but practical: they fear that Trump’s unilateralism will isolate the United States and drag the country into disastrous military adventures. Murkowski, as a senator from Alaska, is particularly sensitive to national security issues and understands the dangers of an unpredictable foreign policy. Young, with his military experience, knows better than anyone the human and financial costs of a poorly prepared war. Together, they form—along with Paul, Collins, and Hawley—a diverse but powerful coalition that could well mark the beginning of the end of Trumpist hegemony over the Republican Party.

Josh Hawley makes me laugh. This populist, who spent years pandering to Trump’s worst instincts, condoning his authoritarian excesses, and turning the Constitution into a tool of partisan politics, suddenly rediscovers it when it suits him. He invokes the Constitution against Trump as if he himself hadn’t spent years trampling on it. The hypocrisy of these people knows no bounds. They support Trump as long as he attacks the poor, minorities, immigrants, and the vulnerable. But as soon as he threatens the interests of their electoral base—the young people sent to die in distant wars—suddenly they rediscover their conscience. They are not defenders of democracy; they are calculating opportunists. They sense the wind shifting; they sense that the Trumpist adventure is becoming politically costly, and they’re jumping ship. It’s cowardly, but it’s politically smart.

Maduro Captured: The Beginning of the End, or the End of the Beginning?

The operation that led to the capture of Nicolás Maduro on January 3, 2026, will go down in American military history as an extraordinary technical and operational feat. Led by the U.S. military’s most elite special forces, with crucial support from the CIA, this nighttime operation in the heart of Caracas demonstrated the United States’ remarkable ability to project its power anywhere in the world, even in areas as hostile and complex as Venezuela. But beyond its undeniable military success, this capture triggered a political and diplomatic escalation that no one within the Trump administration seems to have anticipated. Far from being satisfied with this tactical victory, Trump immediately turned the operation into a proclamation of regional hegemony, asserting that the United States now “runs” Venezuela and intends to remain there for the long term.

This imperialist rhetoric stunned even the president’s most ardent supporters. In an interview with The New York Times published on the very day of the Senate vote, Trump stated that U.S. oversight of Venezuela could last “much longer” than a year, implying a U.S. military presence or, at the very least, U.S. political oversight for several years. “Only time will tell” how long the United States will oversee Venezuela, he added, with utter disregard for the principles of international sovereignty. These statements sent shockwaves through foreign ministries around the world, but even more so on Capitol Hill, where senators from both parties realized that the initial operation was merely a prelude to much broader and far more dangerous ambitions.

Venezuelan oil: the real stake in this war

Behind the democratic rhetoric and humanitarian justifications, the real stake in the U.S. intervention in Venezuela is overwhelming: oil. Venezuela possesses the world’s largest proven oil reserves, estimated at over 300 billion barrels—far exceeding those of Saudi Arabia. For years, these reserves have been underutilized due to socialist mismanagement, endemic corruption, and U.S. sanctions. But for the Trump administration, they represent an unprecedented strategic opportunity: the chance to control a vast energy source, secure the U.S. oil supply, and, above all, weaken geopolitical rivals such as Russia and China, which have been seeking to increase their influence in Latin America for years.

Trump’s plans for Venezuelan oil are ambitious and clearly defined. He has already announced his intention to meet with the leaders of the largest U.S. oil companies—Exxon Mobil, ConocoPhillips, and Chevron—to discuss ways to revive Venezuelan production. Several sources close to the administration have confirmed that Trump plans to refine and sell up to 50 million barrels of Venezuelan oil that had been blocked by the U.S. embargo. The plan is literally to turn Venezuela into a U.S. energy colony, with U.S. companies controlling the extraction, refining, and marketing of Venezuelan oil. It is an imperialist project on a scale the world has not seen since the 19th century, and it is precisely this excessive ambition that has reawakened the conservative instincts of traditional Republican senators.

Oil. Always oil. I’m disgusted but not surprised. Trump doesn’t even try to hide it; he says it bluntly, brutally, almost proudly. He wants Venezuelan oil, he’s going to take it, and he’s going to give it to his friends in the oil companies. There isn’t even the usual hypocrisy of wars for democracy, human rights, and freedom anymore. No, Trump is a modern pirate—a Viking with drones and stealth planes, but a pirate nonetheless. And what fascinates me is that this honest brutality bothers the establishment more than the sophisticated lies of his predecessors. Bush talked about freedom while stealing Iraq’s oil. Obama talked about human rights while bombing Libya. But they did so with sweet words and complex justifications. Trump, on the other hand, doesn’t even bother to lie. He says, “I want your oil, and I’m going to take it.” And this honesty in crime is so shocking that it becomes almost revealing.

U.S. Senate: Historic Resolution Against Trump’s War Powers in Venezuela

The Surprise Vote That Has Trump Shaking

Washington is witnessing historic moments. On January 8, 2026, the U.S. Senate passed a resolution on war powers by an overwhelming majority of 52 to 47, aimed at drastically limiting military intervention in Venezuela. This decision represents a major political setback for President Donald Trump, who had made taking control of Venezuela a central pillar of his foreign policy. The vote, which took place on a procedural motion to advance Resolution S.J.Res.90, saw five Republican senators break ranks with their party to join all the Democrats. This unprecedented split within the GOP reflects growing concern over the imperialist ambitions of the Trump administration, which now plans to “rule” Venezuela and control its vast oil reserves for years to come. The resolution, sponsored by Senator Tim Kaine (D-VA) as well as Republican Rand Paul (R-KY), aims to prohibit any new U.S. military action in Venezuela without the express authorization of Congress, in accordance with the U.S. Constitution, which grants the legislative branch the exclusive right to declare war.

The context of this vote is particularly explosive. It follows the daring military operation on January 3, during which U.S. special forces captured Venezuelan President Nicolás Maduro in a nighttime raid in Caracas. This operation, dubbed “Operation Absolute Resolve,” claimed the lives of more than 100 people and wounded seven U.S. soldiers. Since then, Trump has continually escalated his rhetoric, claiming that the United States now “runs” Venezuela and hinting at the possibility of deploying “boots on the ground” to maintain order in the country. These statements have sent shockwaves through Capitol Hill, where even some of the president’s most loyal supporters are beginning to worry about a slide toward a protracted conflict. The resolution passed on Thursday represents much more than a mere legal debate over presidential powers: it constitutes the first genuine bipartisan challenge to Trump’s foreign policy agenda since his return to power, and could mark the beginning of congressional resistance to what many lawmakers view as a dangerous violation of fundamental democratic principles.

I must admit that this news sends a chill down my spine. For years we have watched with anguish as democratic checks and balances have been gradually eroded, and today we are witnessing a desperate attempt to salvage what remains of the institutional balance. Five courageous Republicans who dare to say no to a president who has gone mad with power. It’s almost beautiful. Almost. Because behind this heroic facade, I can’t help but think of the utter cynicism of this situation. These same senators supported Trump for years, condoned his authoritarian excesses, turned a blind eye to his attacks on democracy, and today, they’re suddenly waking up because there’s talk of sending soldiers to die in Venezuela. American blood seems to be worth more than American democracy in their eyes. It’s disgusting. But it might also be the beginning of something. The beginning of a realization that this monster they helped create is devouring everything in its path, including their own political interests.

Rand Paul, the Anti-War Libertarian Who Has Become an Unexpected Hero

At the center of this congressional rebellion stands a figure as surprising as he is essential: Senator Rand Paul of Kentucky. The son of the legendary Ron Paul, Rand has always cultivated an image of pure libertarianism, systematically opposing foreign military interventions and advocating for a strict interpretation of the Constitution. But what makes his role in this matter particularly fascinating is that he has managed to rally Republican colleagues—who are traditionally far more hawkish than he is—to his cause. Resolution S.J.Res.90, which he sponsored alongside Tim Kaine and Adam Schiff, is not merely a political gimmick: it is a powerful legal instrument based on Section 1013 of the Department of State Authorization Act of 1984 and 1985, as well as the expedited procedures of the International Security Assistance and Arms Export Control Act of 1976. In short, this resolution has priority status that compels Congress to act swiftly on unauthorized military engagements—a mechanism that is rarely used but highly effective.

Rand Paul’s position in this debate goes far beyond the usual partisan divides. In his public statements, he has consistently pointed out that the Constitution explicitly grants Congress the power to declare war (Article I, Section 8, Clause 11), a fundamental principle that, in his view, has been systematically flouted by successive administrations. But what sets his approach apart this time is his ability to transform a technical debate over war powers into a political crusade against Trump’s imperial ambitions. He has skillfully tapped into growing fears within his own party regarding military involvement in Venezuela, arguing that even the president’s most ardent supporters should oppose an undeclared war that could come at a high cost in human lives and financial resources. His argument resonated particularly strongly with military veterans like Josh Hawley and Todd Young, who understand the real dangers of getting bogged down in Venezuela, a country with difficult terrain and chronic instability.

Susan Collins and the Fear of a South American Vietnam

While Rand Paul represents the anti-war ideology, Susan Collins embodies political pragmatism and the fear of a strategic disaster. The senator from Maine, known for her moderate views and independent spirit, had initially voted against a similar resolution last November. But in the meantime, something has fundamentally changed. Maduro’s capture and Trump’s statements about the U.S. desire to “lead” Venezuela have transformed the nature of the debate. Collins explained her reversal in remarkably clear terms: “With Maduro rightfully captured, the circumstances have now changed. While I support the operation to seize Nicolás Maduro—which was extraordinary in its precision and complexity—I do not support the deployment of additional U.S. forces or long-term military involvement in Venezuela or Greenland without specific authorization from Congress.”

This statement reveals a deep-seated anxiety within the Republican establishment: the fear of a South American Vietnam. Collins is referring not only to Venezuela but also to Greenland, where Trump has recently expressed equally troubling expansionist ambitions. For the senator from Maine and many of her colleagues, the model that haunts them is that of the endless wars that have ravaged America in past decades. They see Trump’s statements as the first signs of a fatal spiral: an initial military operation presented as limited, followed by an increasingly complex occupation mission, requiring ever-greater resources and ultimately costing American lives for years on end. Collins’s stance is all the more significant because she represents the moderate wing of the Republican Party—the wing that has always served as a bridge between the traditional establishment and the pro-Trump base. By breaking ranks, she is paving the way for other Republicans who might be tempted to join this growing rebellion against Trump’s imperial ambitions.

It’s fascinating to observe this political metamorphosis. Susan Collins, who spent years justifying the unjustifiable and explaining why the intolerable had to be tolerated, has suddenly had a change of heart because she senses the tide is turning. It’s actually pathetic. This woman endorsed the separation of children at the border, supported attacks on the press, and turned a blind eye to racist statements, but it’s only when it comes to sending troops to Venezuela that her moral compass suddenly awakens. I’d like to believe in her political sincerity, in an authentic conversion to democratic principles. But I can’t help but see the political calculation behind it all. Collins senses that the Trump ship is taking on water, and she’s looking for a lifeline. But oh well. Even if the motives are impure, the result remains the same. Sometimes, in American politics, you have to settle for small victories, even when they’re tinged with hypocrisy.

Josh Hawley, the Populist Who Is Discovering the Limits of Imperialism

Among the five Republican senators who defected, Josh Hawley’s case is perhaps the most revealing of the tensions running through the party. A representative from Missouri, Hawley had established himself in recent years as one of the most ardent defenders of the Trumpist agenda—a fierce economic nationalist who had never shown the slightest reluctance to use American power to defend national interests. Yet it was he who articulated the most powerful constitutional argument against Trump’s ambitions in Venezuela. “As far as Venezuela is concerned, my reading of the Constitution is that if the president deems it necessary to put boots on the ground there in the future, Congress should vote on it. That is why I voted yes on this morning’s resolution,” he declared with a candor that was disconcerting to his Trumpist allies.

Hawley’s position is particularly significant because it reveals the deep contradictions within Trumpist nationalism. On the one hand, there is the “America First” ideology, which champions American power and rejects international constraints. On the other, there is the political reality of an electoral base that is increasingly weary of foreign wars and skeptical of costly military interventions. Hawley, like many populists, fully understands this ambivalence. He knows that his constituents in Missouri, like those in many Midwestern states, are tired of seeing their sons and daughters die in distant conflicts whose stakes they do not always understand. By invoking the Constitution, Hawley is not merely making a legal argument: he is responding to a deep-seated demand from his electoral base for greater democratic oversight of war decisions. It is a shrewd political calculation that could inspire other Republicans to join this growing rebellion.

Lisa Murkowski, Todd Young, and the Establishment’s Resistance

While Hawley represents the party’s populist wing, Lisa Murkowski (Alaska) and Todd Young (Indiana) embody the resistance of the traditional Republican establishment. Murkowski, a veteran senator known for her independence, had already supported the first attempt at a resolution in November. Her position has therefore not changed, but her vote carries more weight this time around, as she is no longer isolated. Todd Young, a former Marine and representative from Indiana, has raised very pragmatic concerns: “The president and members of his team have stated that the United States now ‘leads’ Venezuela.” It is unclear whether this means that a U.S. military presence will be necessary to stabilize the country. I—along with what I believe to be the vast majority of Hoosiers—am not prepared to commit U.S. troops to this mission,” he explained in a statement.

These two senators represent what remains of the Republican Party’s foreign policy establishment—the wing that still believes in traditional alliances, strategic prudence, and the need to build international coalitions before committing military forces. Their opposition to Trump is not ideological but practical: they fear that Trump’s unilateralism will isolate the United States and drag the country into disastrous military adventures. Murkowski, as a senator from Alaska, is particularly sensitive to national security issues and understands the dangers of an unpredictable foreign policy. Young, with his military experience, knows better than anyone the human and financial costs of a poorly prepared war. Together, they form—along with Paul, Collins, and Hawley—a diverse but powerful coalition that could well represent the future of a Republican Party in the midst of redefining itself.

It’s almost comical to see these people suddenly waking up to constitutional reality. Josh Hawley, Trump’s staunch defender, discovering that the Constitution actually exists. Lisa Murkowski, who has been voting against Trump for years but suddenly becomes relevant because others are joining her. Todd Young, the military veteran who realizes that war is actually a serious matter. I’d like to be able to celebrate this collective awakening, but I’m too cynical. I see the political calculations, the electoral fears, the positioning strategies for the post-Trump era. These people aren’t fighting for democracy. They’re fighting for their political survival. They sense the tide is turning, that the Trumpist base is starting to grow weary of foreign wars, and they’re adjusting their sails. But then again, once more, my opinion doesn’t really matter. If they have to save their own skins by defending the Constitution, so be it. At least the Constitution is being defended. That’s something, at least.

Maduro Captured: The Beginning of the End, or the End of the Beginning?

The operation that led to the capture of Nicolás Maduro on January 3, 2026, will go down in American military history as an extraordinary technical and operational feat. Led by the U.S. military’s most elite special forces, with crucial support from the CIA, this nighttime operation in the heart of Caracas demonstrated the United States’ remarkable ability to project its power anywhere in the world, even in areas as hostile and complex as Venezuela. But beyond its undeniable military success, this capture triggered a political and diplomatic escalation that no one within the Trump administration seems to have anticipated. Far from being satisfied with this tactical victory, Trump immediately turned the operation into a proclamation of regional hegemony, asserting that the United States now “runs” Venezuela and intends to remain there for the long haul.

This imperialist rhetoric stunned even the president’s most ardent supporters. In an interview with The New York Times published on the very day of the Senate vote, Trump stated that U.S. oversight of Venezuela could last “much longer” than a year, hinting at a U.S. military presence or, at the very least, U.S. political oversight for several years. “Only time will tell” how long the United States will oversee Venezuela, he added, with utter disregard for the principles of international sovereignty. These statements sent shockwaves through foreign ministries around the world, but even more so on Capitol Hill, where senators from both parties realized that the initial operation was merely a prelude to much broader and far more dangerous ambitions.

Venezuelan oil: the real stake in this war

Behind the democratic rhetoric and humanitarian justifications, the real stake in the U.S. intervention in Venezuela is overwhelming: oil. Venezuela possesses the world’s largest proven oil reserves, estimated at over 300 billion barrels—far exceeding those of Saudi Arabia. For years, these reserves have been underutilized due to socialist mismanagement, endemic corruption, and U.S. sanctions. But for the Trump administration, they represent an unprecedented strategic opportunity: the chance to control a vast energy source, secure the U.S. oil supply, and, above all, weaken geopolitical rivals such as Russia and China, which have been seeking to increase their influence in Latin America for years.

Trump’s plans for Venezuelan oil are ambitious and clearly defined. He has already announced his intention to meet with the leaders of the largest U.S. oil companies—Exxon Mobil, ConocoPhillips, and Chevron—to discuss ways to revive Venezuelan production. Several sources close to the administration have confirmed that Trump plans to refine and sell up to 50 million barrels of Venezuelan oil that had been blocked by the U.S. embargo. The plan is literally to turn Venezuela into a U.S. energy colony, with U.S. companies controlling the extraction, refining, and marketing of Venezuelan oil. It is an imperialist project on a scale the world has not seen since the 19th century, and it is precisely this excessive ambition that has reawakened the conservative instincts of traditional Republican senators.

This man’s greed repulses me. While the whole world applauds the capture of a dictator, Trump is already calculating the oil profits. It’s so predictable, so vulgar, so American in the worst sense of the word. He doesn’t see Venezuela as a country with people who are suffering. He sees a territory with resources to exploit. He doesn’t think in terms of democracy or freedom, but in terms of barrels of oil and profits. And the worst part is that it works. A segment of America applauds this cynical and imperialist vision. They prefer a dictator who promises profits over a democrat who asks for sacrifices. This is the decadence of a civilization that has lost all moral compass, all ideals, everything that made it great. All that remains is the pursuit of profit, the thirst for power, and a total contempt for anything that isn’t American.

Chuck Schumer, the Strategist Who Plays Both Sides

In this constitutional battle, Senate Majority Leader Chuck Schumer plays a fascinating and ambiguous role. Officially, he is one of the main sponsors of the resolution on war powers, alongside Tim Kaine and Adam Schiff. He publicly hailed the January 8 vote as “a victory for the Constitution and for fundamental democratic principles.” But behind this united front, Schumer is playing a much more complex political game. He fully understands that this resolution, even if it is ultimately passed by both houses of Congress, will certainly be vetoed by Trump. He also knows that it is unlikely the Democrats will be able to muster the two-thirds majority needed to override that veto.

So why commit so heavily to this battle? The answer lies in long-term political calculation. Schumer anticipates that the more Republicans are forced to choose publicly between Trump and the Constitution, the more divided the party will become. Every vote on war powers in Venezuela forces Republican senators to take a stand, and every stance creates tensions either with the pro-Trump base or with moderate voters. It is a methodical strategy of division, designed to exploit the GOP’s internal contradictions. Schumer also knows that even if the resolution ultimately fails, the mere act of forcing this public debate on presidential war powers strengthens the Democrats’ argument that Trump poses a threat to democratic institutions. It is a skillful political maneuver that serves both constitutional principles and partisan interests.

Tim Kaine and Adam Schiff, Guardians of the Constitution

While Schumer represents political calculation, Tim Kaine and Adam Schiff embody ideological conviction. Kaine, a senator from Virginia and former vice-presidential candidate, has made limiting presidential war powers one of his major causes for years. A former professor of constitutional law, he understands better than anyone the dangers of the executive branch’s imperial overreach. In his speeches, he has consistently emphasized that the Constitution was designed precisely to prevent a single man from deciding on his own to send the country to war. His collaboration with Rand Paul on this resolution is particularly significant, as it demonstrates that the defense of constitutional principles can transcend partisan divides.

Adam Schiff, a representative from California and former prosecutor, brings a rigorous legal perspective to the debate. As chairman of the House Intelligence Committee, he has had access to classified information regarding the Trump administration’s true intentions in Venezuela. According to sources close to the committee, Schiff was reportedly particularly alarmed by the administration’s long-term military deployment plans, including the possibility of a U.S. occupation of the country lasting several years. His role in drafting the resolution was crucial to ensuring that the text was legally sound and capable of withstanding attempts by the executive branch to circumvent it. Together, Kaine and Schiff represent what remains of the movement to restore constitutional balance—a movement that has found in the Venezuelan crisis an unexpected opportunity to make its voice heard.

The Democrats make me laugh. They pose as defenders of the Constitution when they have spent the last few years violating democratic principles themselves. Chuck Schumer, who has rubber-stamped scandalous nominations, turned a blind eye to authoritarian excesses, and collaborated with Trump when it suited him, has suddenly become the guardian of democracy. It’s pathetic. Tim Kaine and Adam Schiff, the great moralizers who lecture us on the Constitution, have been silent for years in the face of attacks on our institutions. But now that Trump is threatening their own interests by launching an unpopular war, they’ve suddenly discovered virtue. These people’s hypocrisy knows no bounds. They aren’t fighting for democracy. They’re fighting against Trump because Trump poses a threat to their own power. It’s a battle between factions for control of the state apparatus—nothing more.

The Vote That Both Disturbs and Fascinates

Among all the senators who participated in this historic vote, none attracted as much attention or sparked as much speculation as John Fetterman of Pennsylvania. The Democrat, known for his often iconoclastic positions and direct style, had initially indicated that he would vote against the resolution, explaining that it would have prevented the successful operation against Maduro. “That would have prevented it, so I can’t vote for it,” he told reporters, drawing a striking comparison between the strike against Venezuela and the previous year’s precision strike against Iranian nuclear facilities. For Fetterman, who has often criticized what he considers an excessively pacifist left, the capture of a dictator like Maduro was an undeniable victory that deserved to be celebrated, not hindered by procedural considerations.

Yet, against all expectations, Fetterman ultimately voted to move the resolution forward. The scene was remarkable: as the vote was taking place, the senator simply burst into the chamber, gave an ostentatious thumbs-up, and voted “aye” without any immediate explanation. This sudden change stunned political observers and sparked a storm of speculation about the reasons behind his decision. Some saw it as evidence of his political pragmatism; others viewed it as a sign of his internal tensions with the Democratic Party leadership. Fetterman finally provided an explanation in a belated statement, asserting that he had voted to move the resolution forward “so that we can continue this important debate on the Senate floor.”

Between Anti-War Principles and Political Realism

Fetterman’s complex position on this issue reveals deep tensions within the Democratic Party regarding Trump’s foreign policy. On one hand, there is the party’s progressive wing, fiercely opposed to any military intervention and hostile to what it considers American imperialist tendencies. On the other, there is a more pragmatic faction, represented by figures like Fetterman, who recognizes that certain military operations may be necessary and even justified, particularly when aimed at overthrowing brutal dictators. Fetterman, who comes from a working-class state with many voters who are traditionally more hawkish on national security issues, fully understands these ambivalences.

His support for Maduro’s capture reflects a deep personal conviction: that the United States sometimes has a responsibility and a duty to intervene against tyrannies that threaten not only their own people but also regional stability. But his final vote on the war powers resolution also demonstrates his respect for fundamental constitutional principles. Fetterman seems to navigate skillfully between these two poles, seeking to maintain a balance between his personal convictions about the necessity of certain military interventions and his belief in the importance of democratic oversight of war decisions. It is a complex position that perhaps better than any other reflects the dilemmas facing American politicians in this era of extreme polarization and unprecedented geopolitical challenges.

Fetterman intrigues me. He may be the only American politician who seems genuinely torn between his convictions and political constraints. He supports the Maduro operation because he truly believes in it, not out of electoral calculation. He then votes for the resolution because he also believes in the Constitution. There is no calculated hypocrisy in him, just a brutal honesty that is unsettling. It’s so rare in the American political landscape that it almost raises suspicion. People don’t know what to make of someone who doesn’t play the usual game of pretense. Fetterman represents what politics could be if politicians dared to be themselves. But of course, that makes him vulnerable. Honesty in politics is a weakness that hypocrites shamelessly exploit.

The President’s Anger at Republican “Traitors”

Donald Trump’s reaction to the Senate vote was swift and exactly what one would expect from him: brutal, vehement, and uncompromising. On Truth Social, his platform of choice, the president immediately attacked the five Republican senators who had dared to defect. “Republicans should be ashamed of the senators who just voted with the Democrats in an attempt to strip us of our powers to fight for and defend the United States of America,” he wrote in a post that was shared thousands of times within minutes. This direct attack on members of his own party demonstrates just how much Trump views this resolution as a personal betrayal and an existential threat to his presidential authority.

Trump’s anger goes beyond insults. According to sources close to the White House, the president has ordered his communications team to launch a massive campaign to delegitimize the rebellious senators, portraying them as weak, globalists, and traitors to the nationalist cause. Ads are already in the works in their respective states, accusing them of endangering national security by limiting the president’s powers in the face of foreign threats. The Trumpist strategy is clear: to transform this constitutional debate into a culture war between true patriots who support a strong president and the elites who seek to hinder the power of the people. It is a tactic that has worked in the past, but one that could prove less effective this time around, particularly on issues of war, which have historically mobilized American voters in a more nuanced way than the usual cultural debates.

A Certain Veto and Its Political Consequences

Everyone on Capitol Hill knows that if the resolution ultimately reaches the president’s desk, Trump will veto it immediately and without hesitation. The question is not whether he will do so, but rather when and how he will do so. Some of the president’s advisers anticipate a theatrical veto—a public ceremony in which Trump, surrounded by veterans and military families, would sign the veto while accusing Congress of endangering national security. Others suggest a more discreet approach: a veto signed on the sly to avoid drawing even more attention to this resolution.

Whatever form he chooses, Trump’s veto will create a constitutional crisis unprecedented in decades. For the first time in a very long time, a president will have entered into open conflict not only with the opposition party but also with a significant faction of his own party over an issue as fundamental as war powers. The political consequences could be profound and lasting. The five dissenting senators could become the heroes of a Republican resistance movement against Trump, or they could be marginalized and politically punished in the upcoming primaries. The future of the Republican Party is partly at stake in this battle, and Trump’s veto could well be the catalyst that forces a complete reshaping of the American political landscape.

The Vote That Both Disturbs and Fascinates

Among all the senators who participated in this historic vote, none attracted as much attention or sparked as much speculation as John Fetterman of Pennsylvania. The Democrat, known for his often iconoclastic positions and direct style, had initially indicated that he would vote against the resolution, explaining that it would have prevented the successful operation against Maduro. “That would have prevented it, so I can’t vote for it,” he told reporters, drawing a striking comparison between the strike against Venezuela and the previous year’s precision strike against Iranian nuclear facilities. For Fetterman, who has often criticized what he considers an excessively pacifist left, the capture of a dictator like Maduro was an undeniable victory that deserved to be celebrated, not hindered by procedural considerations.

Yet, against all expectations, Fetterman ultimately voted to move the resolution forward. The scene was remarkable: as the vote was taking place, the senator simply burst into the chamber, gave an ostentatious thumbs-up, and voted “aye” without any immediate explanation. This sudden change stunned political observers and sparked a storm of speculation about the reasons behind his decision. Some saw it as evidence of his political pragmatism; others viewed it as a sign of his internal tensions with the Democratic Party leadership. Fetterman finally provided an explanation in a late-night statement, asserting that he had voted to move the resolution forward “so that we can continue this important debate on the Senate floor.”

Between Anti-War Principles and Political Realism

Fetterman’s complex position on this issue reveals deep tensions within the Democratic Party regarding Trump’s foreign policy. On one hand, there is the party’s progressive wing, fiercely opposed to any military intervention and hostile to what it considers American imperialist tendencies. On the other, there is a more pragmatic faction, represented by figures like Fetterman, who recognizes that certain military operations may be necessary and even justified, particularly when aimed at overthrowing brutal dictators. Fetterman, who comes from a working-class state with many voters who are traditionally more hawkish on national security issues, fully understands these ambivalences.

His support for Maduro’s capture reflects a deep personal conviction: that the United States sometimes has a responsibility and a duty to intervene against tyrannies that threaten not only their own people but also regional stability. But his final vote on the war powers resolution also demonstrates his respect for fundamental constitutional principles. Fetterman seems to navigate skillfully between these two poles, seeking to maintain a balance between his personal convictions about the necessity of certain military interventions and his belief in the importance of democratic oversight of war decisions. It is a complex position that perhaps better than any other reflects the dilemmas facing American politicians in this era of extreme polarization and unprecedented geopolitical challenges.

Fetterman intrigues me. He may be the only American politician who seems genuinely torn between his convictions and political constraints. He supports the Maduro operation because he truly believes in it, not out of electoral calculation. He then votes for the resolution because he also believes in the Constitution. There is no calculated hypocrisy in him, just a brutal honesty that is unsettling. It’s so rare in the American political landscape that it almost raises suspicion. People don’t know what to make of someone who doesn’t play the usual game of pretense. Fetterman represents what politics could be if politicians dared to be themselves. But of course, that makes him vulnerable. Honesty in politics is a weakness that hypocrites shamelessly exploit.

The President’s Anger at Republican “Traitors”

Donald Trump’s reaction to the Senate vote was swift and exactly what one would expect from him: brutal, vehement, and uncompromising. On Truth Social, his platform of choice, the president immediately attacked the five Republican senators who had dared to defect. “Republicans should be ashamed of the senators who just voted with the Democrats in an attempt to strip us of our powers to fight for and defend the United States of America,” he wrote in a post that was shared thousands of times within minutes. This direct attack on members of his own party demonstrates just how much Trump views this resolution as a personal betrayal and an existential threat to his presidential authority.

Trump’s anger goes beyond insults. According to sources close to the White House, the president has ordered his communications team to launch a massive campaign to delegitimize the rebellious senators, portraying them as weak, globalists, and traitors to the nationalist cause. Ads are already being prepared in their respective states, accusing them of endangering national security by limiting the president’s powers in the face of foreign threats. The Trumpist strategy is clear: to transform this constitutional debate into a culture war between true patriots who support a strong president and the elites who seek to hinder the power of the people. It is a tactic that has worked in the past, but one that could prove less effective this time around, particularly on issues of war, which have historically mobilized American voters in a more nuanced way than the usual cultural debates.

A Certain Veto and Its Political Consequences

Everyone on Capitol Hill knows that if the resolution ultimately reaches the president’s desk, Trump will veto it immediately and without hesitation. The question is not whether he will do so, but rather when and how he will do so. Some of the president’s advisers anticipate a theatrical veto—a public ceremony in which Trump, surrounded by veterans and military families, would sign the veto while accusing Congress of endangering national security. Others suggest a more discreet approach: a veto signed on the sly to avoid drawing even more attention to this resolution.

Whatever form he chooses, Trump’s veto will create a constitutional crisis unprecedented in decades. For the first time in a very long time, a president will have entered into open conflict not only with the opposition party but also with a significant faction of his own party over an issue as fundamental as war powers. The political consequences could be profound and lasting. The five dissenting senators could become the heroes of a Republican resistance movement against Trump, or they could be marginalized and politically punished in the upcoming primaries. The future of the Republican Party is partly at stake in this battle, and Trump’s veto could well be the catalyst that forces a complete reshaping of the American political landscape.

Trump’s rage fascinates me. It is so predictable, so pathetic, so revealing of his true nature. He does not see constitutional principles; he sees only personal betrayal. Every criticism, every opposition, every act of resistance is perceived as an attack on his person, on his fragile ego as a small man who thinks he is great. The five Republican senators are not traitors to their country; they are traitors to Trump. And in his deranged mind, the two are synonymous. This is the logic of a tyrant who has never been told “no.” This constitutional crisis is, in the end, nothing more than a psychological crisis—the drama of a man who cannot tolerate any limits, any countervailing power, or any resistance. And it is this weakness that will ultimately destroy him.

Latin America: Between Relief and Concern

The U.S. Senate vote has sparked mixed but profound reactions across Latin America. On the one hand, many governments in the region have expressed quiet relief at the prospect that Trump’s expansionist ambitions might be curbed. Colombia, Brazil, Mexico, and Argentina have all cautiously welcomed the news that the U.S. Congress is seeking to limit the president’s war powers regarding Venezuela. In diplomatic circles, Venezuela’s sovereign right to determine its own future is officially recognized, but privately, many feared that the Trump administration might seek to extend its influence far beyond Venezuela, potentially to other countries in the region with strategic resources.

Yet this satisfaction is tempered by deep concern. Latin American leaders fully understand that even if the resolution on war powers is adopted, the military operation against Venezuela has already changed the geopolitical landscape of the region. The U.S. show of force on January 3 sent a clear message to all governments in the region: the United States has the capacity—and, potentially, the will—to intervene militarily when its strategic interests are at stake. This reality has profoundly altered diplomatic calculations throughout Latin America, where countries are now seeking to balance their relations with Washington while preserving their sovereignty. The Venezuelan crisis has revealed the limits of regional integration and the vulnerability of nations in the face of U.S. military power.

Russia and China: Concerned Observers

While reactions in Latin America are complex, those of Russia and China are much more direct and alarmed. Moscow and Beijing, which had both developed significant economic and strategic ties with the Maduro government, view U.S. intervention in Venezuela as a direct threat to their interests and a test of U.S. determination to counter their global influence. Russian diplomats have denounced a “flagrant violation of international law” and called for an emergency meeting of the United Nations Security Council to discuss what they describe as “imperialist aggression.”

China’s position is equally firm, though expressed with greater diplomatic restraint. Beijing emphasizes that U.S. intervention “endangers regional stability and violates the fundamental principles of national sovereignty.” But behind these official statements lies a much deeper strategic concern. China had invested heavily in Venezuela’s oil sector and viewed Venezuela as a crucial partner in its strategy to secure energy supplies. The U.S. takeover of Venezuela’s oil resources therefore represents not only an economic failure but also a major strategic setback in the global geopolitical competition. The crisis in Venezuela could well mark the beginning of a new phase of confrontation between the United States and its strategic rivals, with implications that extend far beyond the regional context.

International hypocrisy makes me sick. Russia and China, who cry about Venezuela’s sovereignty, even though they are the first to violate that of their neighbors whenever it suits them. Latin America, which claims to defend self-determination while silently waiting for the United States to decide for them. Everyone is playing a double game; everyone is lying; everyone is calculating. Venezuela is nothing more than a pawn in a global chess game where human lives count for nothing. The real tragedy is that the Venezuelans who suffered under Maduro continue to suffer under American occupation. Their liberators today will be their tyrants tomorrow. It’s always the same story.

The Global Oil Shock

The U.S. military intervention in Venezuela and the attempt to seize control of its vast oil reserves have sent shockwaves through global energy markets. In the days following Maduro’s capture, the price of a barrel of oil experienced extreme volatility, rising from $85 to over $120 in the space of just a few trading sessions. Investors and energy analysts are still trying to assess the real impact of this major geopolitical shift on global supplies. Venezuela, with over 300 billion barrels of proven reserves, accounts for about 18% of global reserves, although its production has fallen to historically low levels due to mismanagement and sanctions.

The Trump administration’s plans to revive Venezuelan production are both ambitious and potentially destabilizing. According to sources at the Department of Energy, Washington is considering investing more than $50 billion over five years to modernize Venezuela’s oil infrastructure, with the participation of U.S. majors such as Exxon Mobil, Chevron, and ConocoPhillips. The stated goal is to increase Venezuelan production to more than 5 million barrels per day by 2030, which would make Venezuela one of the world’s three largest producers, alongside Saudi Arabia and the United States itself. Such a shift would radically alter the balance of power in the global oil market, potentially to the detriment of OPEC and Russia.

The Consequences for OPEC and Russia

U.S. control over Venezuelan oil poses an existential threat to OPEC and particularly to Saudi Arabia. For decades, the cartel has based its power on its ability to control global supply and influence prices. Venezuela’s sudden emergence as a major producer under U.S. influence would shatter this monopoly. The Saudis, who have already seen their influence wane with the rise of U.S. shale producers, now fear being confronted by a competitor directly controlled by Washington.

For Russia, the stakes are even higher. Moscow has invested billions of dollars in Venezuela’s oil sector and was counting on these resources to diversify its exports and reduce its dependence on European markets. The potential loss of Venezuela represents a major strategic setback that could force Russia to completely rethink its energy and geopolitical policies. Russian analysts are already suggesting that Moscow could step up its cooperation with Iran and increase its production to compensate, but that would likely not be enough to counterbalance the geopolitical shift brought about by U.S. control over Venezuela.

Oil. Always oil. Behind all the talk of democracy, human rights, and freedom lies oil. Always. Trump doesn’t even try to hide it; he proclaims it loud and clear. He wants Venezuelan oil; he’s going to take it; and he’s going to give it to his friends in the oil companies. It’s almost refreshingly blunt after years of hypocrisy. At least Trump is honest about his imperialism. He doesn’t pretend to be saving the world; he clearly states that he wants the resources. He’s a pirate, a modern-day Viking, but he doesn’t hide behind moral justifications. And perhaps that’s what bothers the global elites so much: not imperialism itself, but the fact that Trump claims it without shame. Hypocrisy has its rules, its codes, its standards of decency. Trump brushes them aside with a wave of his hand.

A Nation Divided on the Issue of War

Polls conducted in the days following the Senate vote reveal that American public opinion is deeply divided on the issue of military intervention in Venezuela. According to a CNN/SSRS poll, 52% of Americans disapprove of Trump’s decision to deploy military forces to Venezuela without congressional approval, while 43% support it. But these overall figures mask extremely sharp political divides. Among Democrats, 78% oppose the intervention, compared with only 21% of Republicans. Among independents, opposition stands at 54%, reflecting growing concern among centrist voters about a potential new military adventure.

This division is also reflected in perceptions of the Trump administration’s true motives. Only 31% of Americans believe that the intervention is primarily aimed at “promoting democracy and human rights in Venezuela,” while 58% believe it is motivated by “U.S. oil and economic interests.” This widespread distrust of the government’s official motivations poses a major challenge for Trump as he seeks to build lasting public support for his Venezuela policy. Americans seem particularly sensitive to parallels with past interventions in Iraq and Afghanistan, where the initial justifications proved questionable and the consequences disastrous.

Fatigue with Foreign Wars

More fundamentally, this Venezuelan crisis comes at a time when American public opinion is showing clear signs of fatigue regarding military engagements abroad. Twenty years after the start of the “war on terror,” Americans are increasingly skeptical of military interventions that promise democracy and freedom. Polls show that 67% of Americans consider the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan to have been “mistakes” or “failures.” This widespread distrust of foreign interventions directly affects perceptions of the Venezuelan crisis.

Military families, in particular, are expressing growing concerns. Veterans’ organizations such as the American Legion and Veterans of Foreign Wars have issued cautious statements calling for “careful consideration” before any new military engagement. Some veterans of the Iraq and Afghanistan wars have formed informal pressure groups to oppose a new intervention, arguing that financial and human resources would be better spent addressing domestic issues. This military opposition, though a minority view, is particularly significant because it comes from those who best understand the true costs of war.

American public opinion both dishearts me and gives me hope at the same time. On the one hand, there is persistent naivety regarding imperialist justifications. On the other, there is a slow but real growing awareness of the human and financial costs of foreign wars. Americans are finally beginning to understand that every bomb dropped on Venezuela is a school that isn’t being built in their own country. Every soldier sent to Caracas is a veteran who will not receive the care he needs at home. But this understanding comes too late, after decades of pointless wars. And tomorrow, when the media begins its propaganda, when politicians lie to them with their usual rhetoric, they will likely fall back into their old habits. Memory is short; fear is long.

The Crisis Over Presidential War Powers

Resolution S.J.Res.90 on war powers in Venezuela represents much more than a mere political dispute over a specific military intervention: it marks the culmination of a constitutional crisis that has been simmering for decades in the United States. The U.S. Constitution explicitly grants Congress the power to declare war (Article I, Section 8, Clause 11), but in practice, successive presidents have gradually accumulated increasingly broad powers to deploy military forces without congressional consultation. This erosion of constitutional checks and balances has been particularly pronounced since World War II, with presidents ranging from Harry Truman to Barack Obama—including Lyndon Johnson and George W. Bush—all deploying military forces without a formal declaration of war.

The War Powers Resolution of 1973, adopted after the Vietnam War, was intended to resolve this problem by requiring presidents to notify Congress within 48 hours of any military engagement and by limiting such engagements to 60 days without congressional authorization. But in practice, this law has been largely ignored or circumvented by successive administrations. The current crisis in Venezuela highlights the failure of this legal framework and the urgent need to rethink the relationship between the executive and legislative branches regarding foreign and military policy. Resolution S.J.Res.90, moreover, employs innovative legal mechanisms based on earlier laws—such as Section 1013 of the Department of State Authorization Act of 1984 and 1985—to compel a mandatory congressional debate.

Historical Precedents and Their Relevance

American constitutional history offers several instructive precedents for the current crisis. During the Vietnam War, Congress ultimately used its “power of the purse” to force the withdrawal of troops by refusing to provide further funding for the military engagement. More recently, in 2019, Congress passed a war powers resolution to limit U.S. military operations in Yemen, although it was ultimately vetoed by then-President Trump. These examples demonstrate that, while difficult, congressional resistance to presidential ambitions in foreign policy is possible and has already proven effective in the past.

However, the current situation differs in several respects. First, the rift within the Republican Party is creating a bipartisan dynamic that did not exist in previous crises. Second, the scale of Trump’s imperialist ambitions in Venezuela far exceeds the limited interventions of the past. Third, the current geopolitical context—with the rise of China and Russia—makes any U.S. military intervention potentially more dangerous and costly. These combined factors could well make the Venezuelan crisis a turning point in American constitutional history, potentially marking the beginning of a restoration of democratic checks and balances or, conversely, the final acceleration of the imperial drift of presidential power.

The constitutional crisis fascinates me because it reveals the fundamental vulnerability of democratic institutions. For decades, Americans have taken it for granted that their Constitution would protect their freedoms, that the checks and balances among the branches of government would prevent any tyrannical overreach. They were wrong. Institutions are merely human constructs—fragile and vulnerable to slow but steady erosion. The War Powers Resolution of 1973 did not stop wars. Congress did not rein in presidents. The Constitution has not prevented the accumulation of power. And today, we wake up to a tyrant in the White House and institutions too weak to stop him. This is not the failure of a single president; it is the failure of an entire system.

A Historic Moment of Truth

The U.S. Senate’s January 8, 2026, vote on the resolution concerning war powers in Venezuela is much more than a mere political event: it is a historic moment of truth for American democracy. It is neither the beginning nor the end of a crisis, but rather a crucial turning point that will determine the future of democratic institutions in the United States. The coming days and weeks will be decisive. The resolution must now be considered by the House of Representatives, where its fate is uncertain. If it manages to pass both chambers, it will certainly face a presidential veto, potentially triggering the first major constitutional crisis of the Trump era.

However, beyond these immediate political twists and turns, it is the very future of the balance of powers that is at stake. The five Republican senators who defected—Rand Paul, Susan Collins, Josh Hawley, Lisa Murkowski, and Todd Young—may represent the last chance to save what remains of the traditional Republican Party and to preserve fundamental constitutional principles. Their political courage, though belated, has shown that there are still lines that some Republican elected officials are not willing to cross. Whether this courage survives the looming Trumpist crackdown will determine whether America can still count on effective checks and balances.

Lessons for the Future

This Venezuelan crisis offers profound lessons that extend far beyond U.S. borders. It demonstrates that even the oldest and most established democracies are not immune to authoritarian drift. It reveals how democratic institutions can gradually erode without the majority of the population realizing it until it is almost too late. It also shows that resistance to tyranny does not necessarily come from where one might expect—sometimes, the most courageous defenders of democracy emerge from the ranks of those who have long collaborated with those in power.

For the rest of the world, this crisis serves as a stark warning. If the United States, with its two centuries of democratic history and strong constitutional institutions, can sink so deeply into authoritarian imperialism, no democracy is truly safe. The Venezuelan crisis may well mark the beginning of a new geopolitical era characterized not only by competition among great powers, but also by each democracy’s internal struggle against its own authoritarian demons.

I write these lines with a heart-wrenching mix of fear and hope. Fear of seeing American democracy crumble under the onslaught of a megalomaniacal tyrant and the collaborators who surround him. Fear of seeing the principles for which generations have fought—and sometimes died—abandoned without a fight. But also a fragile, almost desperate hope. The hope that these five rebellious senators represent the beginning of an awakening, that their example will inspire other courageous voices, that Americans will finally remember what makes their nation great. The hope that even in the deepest darkness, a spark of resistance can become a fire that consumes tyranny. I don’t know which of these feelings will prevail. No one knows. But I know that we are living through a historic moment—a moment that future generations will study as the point at which American democracy either collapsed or found the strength to rise again. The choice is ours. And time is running out.