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When Trump Applies the Recolonization Playbook to Venezuela

Jacques Pj Provost

2026-06-20 23:59:45

Operation Absolute Resolve: A Show of Force

The operation was named Absolute Resolve. The name itself is a manifesto. No half-measures, no compromises, no turning back. On the night of January 2–3, 2026, at 10:46 p.m. Florida time, Trump gave the go-ahead. One hundred fifty aircraft took off simultaneously from twenty military bases scattered throughout the Western Hemisphere. An air armada of a scale rarely seen in peacetime. Venezuela’s air defenses were neutralized in a matter of minutes. The lights of Caracas went out—Trump spoke of a certain “expertise” without elaborating, leaving the nature of the weapons used a mystery. A cyberattack? An electromagnetic pulse strike? It didn’t matter. The result was clear: a capital plunged into darkness, paralyzed, and defenseless.

At 2:01 a.m. local time, U.S. helicopters landed within the grounds of the presidential palace. Less than thirty minutes later, Nicolás Maduro and his wife, Cilia Flores, were in custody, blindfolded, and on their way to the aircraft carrier USS Iwo Jima, which was cruising offshore. The image Trump posted on Truth Social is striking. Maduro is wearing a gray tracksuit, holding a bottle of water, his eyes hidden by a black blindfold. A deposed president reduced to the status of a prisoner of war. At 4:30 p.m., the plane landed at Stewart Air Force Base near New York. Maduro was to be charged with narco-terrorism and cocaine trafficking—charges that his own intelligence services struggle to substantiate. But then again, what does the truth matter when following the Yarvin playbook? Justice is merely a tool in the service of domination.

The Targets: A Systematic Decapitation

The U.S. strikes were not random. They targeted, with surgical precision, all the nerve centers of Venezuelan power. La Carlota Air Base in Caracas, now out of commission. The Cuartel de la Montaña, the final resting place of Hugo Chávez—a symbol destroyed. The Federal Legislative Palace. The Fuerte Tiuna military complex, the heart of the Venezuelan army. The Miraflores Presidential Palace. The F-16 base in Barquisimeto. The El Hatillo and Charallave airports, neutralized. The Higuerote military helicopter base, destroyed. A systematic decapitation of all resistance capabilities. Exactly as Yarvin had written: strike hard, strike everywhere, strike fast, so that the enemy immediately understands that all resistance is futile.

General Dan Caine, Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff of the U.S. Armed Forces, spoke of an operation that had been rehearsed for months. Special forces had trained on an exact replica of the building where Maduro was located. Every detail had been anticipated, every movement choreographed. Trump described the operation as the most stunning, effective, and powerful demonstration of American military might in history. A Trumpian hyperbole, to be sure, but one that reveals the intention: it wasn’t just about capturing Maduro. It was about sending a message to the entire world. We can do this anywhere, anytime, to anyone. And no one can stop us.

I think back to this quote from Yarvin: “In a real war, the objective is victory, and the motto is ‘inter arma silent leges’—the laws fall silent in the face of arms.” The laws fall silent. International law is silent. The UN Charter is silent. And we, too, are silent. Out of fear? Out of calculation? Out of resignation? I don’t know. But this silence is suffocating me.

Curtis Yarvin: The Intellectual Architect of Recolonization

A Blogger Turned Political Theorist

Curtis Yarvin is not a politician. He has never been elected to office and has never held an official position. He is a former computer programmer and blogger who wrote under the pseudonym Mencius Moldbug on his website, Unqualified Reservations. But make no mistake: this man has more influence on U.S. foreign policy than most senators. His ideas have permeated the entire neo-reactionary movement—a school of thought that rejects democracy, egalitarianism, and human rights outright—the entire legacy of the Enlightenment. For Yarvin, democracy is a religion, a dangerous superstition that prevents societies from functioning effectively. He advocates a return to absolute monarchy—or rather, to what he calls “neocameralism”: states run like corporations, with an all-powerful CEO at their helm.

His 2008 essay, How to Occupy and Govern a Foreign State, has become a standard text in Trumpist circles. In it, Yarvin develops a scathing critique of the neoconservative interventionism of the 2000s. But take note: he does not criticize intervention as such. He criticizes its failure. In his view, if Iraq and Afghanistan turned into disasters, it wasn’t because occupation was a bad idea. It was because it was poorly executed. Too soft. Too concerned with winning the hearts and minds of the local population. Too obsessed with the idea of restoring democracy. Yarvin proposes the opposite: a harsh, permanent, uncompromising occupation. An occupation that does not seek to be loved but to be obeyed. An occupation that transforms the conquered country into a profitable colony.

The Nettle Theory: Strike Hard or Don’t Strike at All

At the heart of Yarvin’s thinking lies a metaphor borrowed from the British colonial tradition: “grasping the nettle.” An old English nursery rhyme goes: If you pluck the nettle trembling, it burns you; grasp it with a firm hand, and it becomes silky and harmless. Translation: in an occupation, hesitation is fatal. You must strike with such violence, such determination, that any hint of resistance is immediately crushed. Yarvin completely rejects the “hearts and minds” theory that has guided recent American interventions. For him, insurrections do not arise from popular discontent or nationalism. They arise solely from the perception that victory is possible. If you demonstrate from day one that victory is impossible, that any resistance will lead to death or imprisonment, then there will be no resistance.

That is exactly what Trump did in Venezuela. A show of force so overwhelming, so swift, so total that no one dares to move. The streets of Caracas remained silent the day after the operation. No popular uprising, no mass demonstrations. Just the heavy silence of a population that has understood the message. Yarvin also recommends the establishment of joint authorities: foreign officers who directly command troops and local officials. No advice, no technical assistance, no training. Direct command. Open domination. And to control the population, any means are acceptable: a comprehensive census with DNA sampling and iris scans, confiscation of all weapons, a ban on public gatherings, a strict curfew, and GPS ankle monitors to track the movements of any suspect. A state of total surveillance, made possible by 21st-century technology.

When I read these passages, I wonder if Yarvin is aware of what he’s proposing. Or rather, I wonder if he even cares. He writes with clinical detachment, as if human beings were nothing more than variables in an equation. Pawns to be moved. Resources to be optimized. And the most terrifying thing is that it works. His theory works. Venezuela fell in a matter of hours. Maduro is in prison. And no one is making a move.

Venezuelan Oil: The Real Goal

Three hundred three billion barrels: a coveted treasure

Let’s be frank. Let’s talk about what no one wants to discuss openly but that everyone knows. This military operation has never been about democracy, human rights, or the fight against drug trafficking. It’s about oil. Venezuela has the world’s largest proven reserves of crude oil: 303 billion barrels, according to 2023 estimates. More than Saudi Arabia. More than Canada. More than Russia. A priceless geological treasure, buried beneath a country in crisis, governed by a weakened regime, diplomatically isolated. Easy prey. A golden opportunity for a U.S. president who makes no secret of his obsession with natural resources and who has made “America First” his credo.

Trump said it himself, bluntly and without mincing words, during his press conference: “We’re going to bring in our very large American oil companies, which will spend billions of dollars to repair Venezuela’s severely damaged oil infrastructure.” Repair? Or rather, take over? Because that is exactly what this is about. Since the nationalization of Venezuela’s oil industry in 1976, American companies have lost control of these resources. Hugo Chávez, and later Maduro, used oil as a tool of national sovereignty, redistributing a portion of the revenues to the working classes and defying Washington. The U.S. sanctions imposed since 2008 have strangled the Venezuelan economy, reducing its exports to a fraction of what they once were. But they have not made it possible to regain control of the oil. So Trump has opted for a heavy-handed approach.

Stephen Miller and the Doctrine of Legalized Theft

On December 17, 2025, Stephen Miller, deputy White House counsel and a central figure in Trumpism, crossed a line that even the neoconservatives had never dared to cross. He publicly declared that the United States had created Venezuela’s oil industry and that, consequently, that oil belonged to the U.S. A staggering claim. Historically inaccurate—it was private companies, not the U.S. government, that developed Venezuela’s oil industry in the early 20th century. Legally untenable—the principle of permanent sovereignty over natural resources is a pillar of international law, established by a UN General Assembly resolution in 1962. But Miller couldn’t care less. Like Yarvin, he doesn’t believe in international law. He believes in the law of the jungle.

That statement was not a slip of the tongue. It was a trial balloon. A way to gauge reactions, to prepare public opinion for what was to come. And what did we hear? A few timid protests. A few articles in the progressive press. But nothing that could stop the machine. Two weeks later, bombs were falling on Caracas. And now, Trump is openly talking about bringing Chevron, ExxonMobil, and the other American oil giants into Venezuela. Not as partners. As owners. Yarvin had theorized the corporate state. Trump is putting it into practice. Venezuela will no longer be a sovereign country. It will be a subsidiary of American oil companies, administered by Washington, exploited for profit.

I remember my history classes. The colonial wars of the 19th century. The scramble for Africa. The partition of the Middle East after World War I. We were told: that’s all in the past. Humanity has evolved. International law protects weak nations. Never again. And now, in 2026, we are witnessing firsthand an open and unashamed recolonization. And we are doing nothing. Worse still: some are applauding it.

International Reactions: Between Silence and Complicity

Latin America Divided Along Ideological Lines

Latin America has split into two distinct blocs in response to the U.S. operation in Venezuela. On one side, left-wing governments have vehemently condemned what they consider to be an act of imperialist aggression. Colombian President Gustavo Petro denounced it as a violation of the sovereignty of Venezuela and all of Latin America, demanding an emergency meeting of the UN Security Council. Brazil, under Lula da Silva—a former labor union leader like Maduro—issued a scathing statement: “The bombings on Venezuelan territory and the capture of its president cross an unacceptable line.” Outgoing Chilean President Gabriel Boric also condemned the attack, even though he knows his far-right successor, José Antonio Kast, believes exactly the opposite.

On the other hand, right-wing governments celebrated Maduro’s downfall as a liberation. Kast tweeted: “Now a greater task begins.” Latin American governments must ensure that the entire regime apparatus relinquishes power and is held accountable.” Argentine President Javier Milei, an ultra-liberal and close ally of Trump, expressed his approval via videos on X. Ecuador’s Daniel Noboa wrote: “All criminal narco-Chavistas will have their day. Their structure will eventually collapse across the entire continent.” This division is not new. It reflects the deep rifts that have run through Latin America since Chávez came to power in 1999. But never before have these rifts been laid bare so brutally. Never before has the question of national sovereignty been posed in such stark terms.

Europe: Condemnations Without Consequences

And Europe? Europe did what it always does: it expressed its concern. French Defense Minister Sébastien Lecornu called the U.S. operation illegal. The European Union called for de-escalation. UN Secretary-General António Guterres stated that U.S. actions set a dangerous precedent. Words. Nothing but words. No sanctions. No concrete measures. No real willingness to stand up to Washington. Because Europe knows it is powerless. Because it depends on the United States for its security. Because it is afraid. Afraid of Trump. Afraid of his threats against NATO. Afraid of his tariffs. Afraid of finding itself alone against Russia and China.

So Europe issues half-hearted condemnations, just for show, to save face. But it will do nothing. It will let Trump do whatever he wants in Venezuela. And tomorrow, when he turns his sights on Greenland or Panama, it will condemn him again. And it will still do nothing. Yarvin had foreseen this passivity. In his essay, he writes that international institutions are nothing but facades, illusions perpetuated by what he calls the Cathedral—the academic-media complex that imposes the religion of democracy. Once this illusion is shattered, once it is demonstrated that these institutions have no real power, they collapse. And that is exactly what is happening. The UN is powerless. The International Court of Justice is ignored. International law is flouted. And no one can do anything about it.

I look at the statements from our European leaders and feel a deep sense of shame. A shame mixed with anger. We know what’s happening. We know it’s wrong. We know that tomorrow, it could be us. But we do nothing. We’re like spectators in a theater, watching a tragedy whose ending we already know. And we sit there, silent, powerless.

Colonial heritage reimagined for the 21st century

Lord Cromer and Roger Trinquier: Yarvin’s Role Models

To understand Yarvin’s theory, one must be familiar with his sources of inspiration. He makes no secret of them. On the contrary, he proudly claims them as his own. His heroes are colonialists of the past, men who ruled foreign territories with an iron fist. The first is Evelyn Baring, Earl of Cromer, who governed Egypt for twenty-five years on behalf of the British Empire. Cromer was no democrat. He never claimed to bring freedom to the Egyptians. He established an authoritarian, efficient, and profitable protectorate. Under his rule, Egypt became a popular tourist destination—a sort of Edwardian Prague, as Yarvin writes. But at what cost? At the cost of Egyptian sovereignty. At the cost of democracy. At the cost of the dignity of a people reduced to the status of colonial subjects.

Yarvin’s second model is even more troubling. Roger Trinquier, a French officer who fought in Indochina and Algeria, was a theorist of counterinsurgency warfare. Trinquier wrote a manual, La Guerre moderne (Modern Warfare), in which he justifies the use of torture, population displacement, and mass repression. For him, in an asymmetric war against insurgents, there is no room for moral scruples. It is necessary to infiltrate the population, identify terrorist networks, and dismantle them by any means necessary. Yarvin quotes Trinquier with admiration. He recommends his methods. He adapts them to the 21st century by adding technological surveillance: GPS, facial recognition, and biometric databases. A digital panopticon where every citizen is profiled, tracked, and constantly monitored.

Neocameralism: The State as a Corporation

Yarvin gives his system a name: neocameralism. A reference to 18th-century Prussian cameralism, the doctrine that viewed the state as a corporation that must maximize its revenue. But Yarvin goes further. In his view, a state must be managed exactly like a private company, with an all-powerful CEO—the absolute sovereign—and shareholders—citizens who receive dividends but have no decision-making power. No democracy. No elections. No political parties. Just rational management aimed at maximum profitability. In this system, freedom is not a right. It is a product. Citizens are granted as much freedom as possible, as long as it does not harm security, customer service, or profit.

What does this mean when applied to Venezuela? It means the country will be transformed into a massive special economic zone, managed by American administrators with the help of local collaborators. That oil resources will be exploited by American companies. That profits will be shared according to a predefined formula: 25% for the U.S. armed forces, 15% for British citizens (in Yarvin’s fictional example), 10% for the sovereign, and the rest for Venezuelans—in the form of dividends, not wages. Venezuelans will no longer be citizens. They will be minority shareholders in their own country. Yarvin explicitly compares his model to Dubai and Singapore, those authoritarian but prosperous city-states. He writes: If Dubai is a prison, if Singapore is a prison, then New Persia will also be a prison. And I suspect that most peace-loving Iranian citizens would not mind living in such a prison.

That phrase haunts me. “A prosperous prison.” Is that the plan? To trade freedom for security and material comfort? To give up national sovereignty in exchange for a few crumbs of oil wealth? And the most terrible thing is that it might actually work. That millions of Venezuelans, exhausted by years of crisis, might accept this Faustian bargain. Preferring a gilded cage to freedom in poverty.

The Implications for Latin America and the World

Greenland, Panama: The Next Targets

Venezuela is just the beginning. Trump has made that clear. Since returning to power, he has been making a series of aggressive statements about other territories he covets. First, Greenland. This vast Arctic island, an autonomous territory of Denmark, is rich in mineral resources and strategically located between North America and Europe. Trump wants to buy it. Denmark refuses. So Trump is making threats. He’s talking about a “fait accompli” in true Texas style, in the words of analyst Olivier Zajec. A preemptive move. A swift military occupation before anyone can react. Just like in Venezuela. Next up: the Panama Canal. Trump claims that the United States built the canal and should control it. He accuses Panama of allowing China to gain too much influence. He threatens to retake the canal by force if necessary.

And why would he stop there? If the Yarvin theory works in Venezuela—if no one really opposes this recolonization—why not apply it elsewhere? In Cuba, perhaps, to put an end to the hemisphere’s last communist regime? In Nicaragua, an ally of Venezuela? In Bolivia, rich in lithium? The possibilities are endless. And each time, Trump will find a justification. The fight against drug trafficking. The defense of democracy. The protection of American interests. Interchangeable pretexts to mask the reality: an unabashed imperial expansion, driven by the desire to control natural resources and impose American hegemony. Yarvin calls this a reactionary theory of peace. Peace through absolute domination. Peace through the crushing of all opposition. The peace of the graveyard.

The End of the Postwar International Order

What is at stake in Venezuela goes far beyond the fate of a single South American country. It is the end of a world order—the order established after 1945, founded on the UN Charter, on the principle of state sovereignty, and on the prohibition of the use of force except in self-defense. This order was already fragile. The United States itself had violated it on several occasions: in Iraq in 2003, in Libya in 2011. But they did so by invoking UN resolutions, forming coalitions, and seeking international legitimacy. Trump doesn’t even bother with that anymore. He acts unilaterally. He flouts international law. He openly asserts that might trumps right. And in doing so, he is destroying the very foundations of the international system.

Yarvin predicted this. He writes that international institutions are nothing but illusions, ideological constructs with no real power. Once a major player decides to ignore them, they collapse. And that is exactly what is happening. The UN is convening an emergency meeting of the Security Council. So what? The United States will veto it. The International Court of Justice might condemn the U.S. operation. So what? Washington will ignore the ruling, just as it always has. International law exists only if the powerful agree to abide by it. As soon as they refuse, it is nothing more than a scrap of paper. And we are entering a world where only force matters. A world where weak states have no protection. A world where colonialism once again becomes possible, acceptable, normal.

I wonder what historians will think fifty years from now. Will they say that 2026 marked the return of colonialism? That we stood by, powerless, as the international order was destroyed? Or will they say that we were complicit? That our silence amounted to consent? I don’t know. But I do know that I don’t want to be on the side of those who remain silent.

The Complicit Silence of Western Democracies

Fear of Trump: A Paralyzing Factor

Why aren’t Western democracies responding more firmly? The answer is simple and terrifying: they’re afraid. Afraid of Trump. Afraid of his retaliation. Afraid of finding themselves in his crosshairs. The U.S. president has shown that he doesn’t hesitate to punish his allies. He has threatened to withdraw the United States from NATO if Europeans do not spend more on their defense. He has imposed punitive tariffs on European steel and aluminum. He has supported Brexit and encouraged Euroskeptic movements. He has called the European Union an enemy of the United States. And now, his National Security Strategy, published in December 2025, explicitly states that Washington must foster resistance within European nations to Europe’s current trajectory. In plain terms: support the political forces that want to destroy the EU from within.

Faced with this hostility, European leaders are paralyzed. They know that if they condemn the operation in Venezuela too strongly, Trump could retaliate—by cutting off military aid to Ukraine, for example; by imposing new tariffs; or by refusing to share intelligence on terrorist threats. Europeans are dependent on the United States. Militarily, economically, and technologically. This dependence makes them vulnerable. It forces them to bow down. To accept the unacceptable. To turn a blind eye to violations of international law. Yarvin had anticipated this dynamic. He writes that in a world governed by force, weak states have no choice but to align themselves with strong states. Or to disappear.

Internal opposition in the United States: marginalized and powerless

And what about within the United States itself? Where are the voices speaking out against this imperial drift? They exist, but they are marginalized. The Democratic Party, weakened by its electoral defeat, is struggling to mount a coherent opposition. Some Democratic senators have condemned the operation in Venezuela, calling it illegal and dangerous. But they are in the minority in Congress. They cannot block anything. Progressive media outlets, such as the New York Times and the Washington Post, have published critical editorials. But their influence is limited. Trump has spent years discrediting the press, labeling it “fake news” and the “enemy of the people.” His supporters no longer read these newspapers. They get their news from Fox News, Truth Social, and social media platforms where conspiracy theories and pro-Trump propaganda circulate.

As for American public opinion, it is divided. A poll conducted after the operation shows that 48% of Americans approve of Maduro’s capture, 35% disapprove, and 17% are undecided. A relative majority, then, but not an overwhelming one. And this majority is concentrated among Republican voters, who support Trump unconditionally. Americans who oppose this policy feel powerless. They protest, they sign petitions, they write to their elected officials. But nothing changes. Trump governs like an absolute monarch, surrounded by advisors who share his neo-reactionary vision. Stephen Miller, Pete Hegseth, Marco Rubio, Pam Bondi. All are hawks, nationalists, hardliners. There are no moderates in this administration. No voice to temper the president’s imperial impulses.

I think of the Americans who are resisting. Those who are protesting in the streets, denouncing this madness. I think of them and feel solidarity with them. But I also feel desperate. Because I know they won’t win. Not now. Not as long as Trump is in power. And perhaps not even afterward, if his successors continue down this path. Trumpism is no accident. It’s a movement. An ideology. And it’s here to stay.

The Trumpist propaganda machine working for Yarvin

Alternative Media and the Normalization of Imperial Discourse

How did Trump manage to convince a segment of the American public that the invasion of Venezuela was legitimate? Thanks to a well-oiled propaganda machine that operates in a closed loop and amplifies the neo-reactionary message. Fox News, Newsmax, and One America News Network broadcast the same talking points on a loop. Maduro is a narco-terrorist. Venezuela is a failed state. America must protect its interests. Footage of Operation Absolute Resolve is presented as a military triumph, a show of force that restores America’s greatness. Commentators applaud. Guests on talk shows compete in their patriotic fervor. No one questions the legality of the operation. No one mentions international law. No one questions the true motivations.

On social media, the pro-Trump ecosystem is running at full throttle. Truth Social, Trump’s platform, relays official messages. X, under Elon Musk’s leadership, amplifies pro-Trump content and suppresses critical voices through its algorithms. Influencers paid by conservative think tanks are producing viral content: memes glorifying the military operation, videos showing Maduro being humiliated, and infographics on Venezuela’s oil reserves presented as legitimate spoils of war. American youth—who get their news mainly from TikTok and Instagram—are bombarded with this content. Little by little, the idea takes hold: it was necessary. It was right. It was for America’s own good. Yarvin had theorized the need to control public discourse. Trump put it into practice with formidable efficiency.

The Role of Neoconservative and Neoreactionary Think Tanks

Behind this propaganda lie well-funded institutions. Think tanks that produce reports justifying intervention in Venezuela. The Heritage Foundation, the American Enterprise Institute, and the Hudson Institute publish studies claiming that Maduro poses a threat to U.S. national security. They provide data—often biased or taken out of context—on drug trafficking, on the alleged links between Venezuela and terrorist groups, and on Chinese and Russian influence in the region. These reports are then cited by conservative media outlets, Republican lawmakers, and the Trump administration itself. It is a vicious cycle in which propaganda feeds on itself, creating an alternative reality impervious to facts.

But there are also more discreet, more radical think tanks that spread neo-reactionary ideas. The Claremont Institute, for example, where disciples of Yarvin teach. Or groups funded by Peter Thiel, which organize private conferences where neo-reactionary intellectuals, Silicon Valley entrepreneurs, and pro-Trump politicians meet. It is within these closed circles that the imperial doctrine of Trumpism is forged. It is there that Yarvin’s ideas are discussed, refined, and adapted to political reality. And it is from there that they then spread into the corridors of power. A slow, underground, yet terribly effective process. When Trump talks about transforming Venezuela into a corporate state, those aren’t his words. They are Yarvin’s, filtered through dozens of intermediaries, but recognizable to those who know how to identify them.

I recall a quote from Hannah Arendt on totalitarianism: “The ideal subject of a totalitarian regime is not the convinced Nazi or the convinced Communist, but people for whom the distinction between fact and fiction, true and false, no longer exists.” We’re there now. In Trump’s America, in the media ecosystem he has created, that distinction no longer exists. And it’s terrifying.

Toward a New Form of Technological and Financial Imperialism

Silicon Valley and the Neoreactionaries

Yarvin is not alone. He is part of a network of intellectuals and entrepreneurs who share his neoreactionary vision. A network with ties to Silicon Valley, that temple of tech capitalism. Peter Thiel, co-founder of PayPal and billionaire investor, is an outspoken admirer of Yarvin. He has invited him to conferences and funded some of his projects. Thiel himself is a fierce critic of democracy. He has written: “I no longer believe that freedom and democracy are compatible.” For him, as for Yarvin, democracy is an obstacle to economic efficiency. It gives too much power to the ignorant masses. It prevents competent elites from governing rationally.

Other figures in the tech industry share these ideas. Elon Musk, although he does not explicitly identify as a neoreactionary, has expressed similar views. He has criticized representative democracy and proposed weighted voting systems in which the most educated citizens would have greater influence. He has supported Trump both financially and ideologically. Above all, he has developed technologies that could serve the neoreactionary agenda: satellite surveillance with Starlink, brain-machine interfaces with Neuralink, and humanoid robots with Tesla. These are tools of control that, in the wrong hands, could transform society into a dystopian panopticon. Yarvin dreams of a world where every citizen wears a GPS bracelet, where every movement is tracked, and where artificial intelligence predicts and prevents deviant behavior. Silicon Valley provides him with the tools to make this dream a reality.

The Chinese Model: Inspiration or Rival?

Yarvin openly admires the Chinese model. He writes: Today, the Chinese are the world leaders in Orwellian tools—identification, surveillance, intelligence. But this hegemony reflects above all a lack of competition. I am convinced that American ingenuity can catch up. China has implemented a social credit system that rates citizens based on their behavior. Those who follow the rules receive benefits: easier access to credit, priority in lines, better jobs. Those who disobey are punished: travel bans, exclusion from certain public services, social stigma. A system of total control, made possible by facial recognition, artificial intelligence, and big data.

For Yarvin, this is a model to follow—not for ideological reasons—he is not a communist—but for reasons of efficiency. A government that fully controls its population can maintain order without excessive violence. It can prevent crimes before they are committed. It can optimize the allocation of resources. It can maximize economic productivity. This is the neocameralist dream: a corporate state that manages its citizens like employees, monitoring them, evaluating them, and rewarding or punishing them based on their performance. And what if that requires sacrificing privacy, freedom of expression, and human dignity? So be it. For Yarvin, these values are democratic superstitions. Obstacles to efficiency. Luxuries that modern societies can no longer afford.

When I read these passages, I wonder if it’s already too late. If technology hasn’t already made this dystopia inevitable. Our phones track us. Our internet searches are logged. Our faces are scanned by surveillance cameras. Our data is sold to companies that use it to manipulate us. We’re already living in a panopticon. The only difference is that it’s run by private corporations rather than the government. But what’s stopping these two powers from merging? What’s stopping Yarvin’s corporate state from becoming a reality?

Possible Forms of Resistance Against the Neoreactionary Empire

Social Movements in Latin America

All is not lost. In the face of this imperial machine, resistance is organizing. In Latin America, social movements are mobilizing. In Mexico, Argentina, Chile, and Brazil, massive demonstrations are denouncing U.S. aggression against Venezuela. Unions are calling for a general strike. Indigenous organizations, which have a long history of colonialism, are sounding the alarm: what is happening in Venezuela could happen to any country in the region. Latin American intellectuals are publishing op-eds, organizing conferences, and creating transnational solidarity networks. They are recalling the history of U.S. interventions in the region: Guatemala in 1954, Chile in 1973, Nicaragua in the 1980s, Haiti, and the Dominican Republic. A history of coups, invasions, and dictatorships supported by Washington.

These movements are not naive. They know they cannot overthrow the American empire. But they can make its expansion more costly and more difficult. They can create zones of resistance—spaces where neo-reactionary ideas do not take hold. They can build alternatives: development models that do not depend on American capital, regional alliances that counterbalance Washington’s hegemony, and independent media that tell a different story from that of Trumpist propaganda. It’s a David versus Goliath battle. But history has shown that sometimes, David wins. Not always. Not often. But sometimes. And that hope, however slim it may be, is worth fighting for.

Europe’s Necessary Awakening

Europe must wake up. It can no longer be content with timid statements and condemnations that have no consequences. It must understand that it is the next target. Not militarily, perhaps. But economically, politically, and culturally. Trump wants to destroy the European Union. He has said so. His National Security Strategy says so. His advisors say so. Yarvin says so. Europe must therefore prepare itself. It must invest heavily in its defense. It must develop its energy independence. It must protect its strategic industries. It must regulate the American tech giants that control our data and manipulate our democracies. It must build alliances with countries in the Global South that also reject American hegemony. It won’t be easy. It will require sacrifices. But it is necessary.

Europe must also wage an ideological battle. It must defend democratic values, human rights, and international law—not as empty slogans, but as principles to be upheld, including by force if necessary. This means sanctioning states that violate these principles, including the United States. It means refusing to cooperate with the Trump administration as long as it continues its imperialist policies. It means supporting American opponents of Trumpism, offering them a platform, and providing them with financial assistance. Europe has the means to resist. It has a powerful economy, an educated population, and strong democratic institutions. What it lacks is political will. The courage to say no. The courage to stand up to the empire. We must find that courage. Now. Before it’s too late.

I know these words may seem naïve. Idealistic. Utopian, even. But I refuse to be cynical. I refuse to believe that we are doomed to suffer. That history is predetermined. That empires are invincible. They are not. All empires eventually fall. The question is how long it will take. And how many lives will be destroyed in the meantime. We can hasten that fall. We can limit the damage. But only if we act. Now.

Conclusion: The World After Venezuela

A Precedent That Changes Everything

January 3, 2026, will go down in history as a turning point. The day the United States crossed a red line. The day it demonstrated that it could bomb a sovereign country, kidnap its president, seize its resources, and get away with it without any real consequences. The UN Secretary-General called it a dangerous precedent. That’s an understatement. It’s not a precedent. It’s a blueprint. A model that other powers will study, imitate, and adapt. If the United States can do this to Venezuela, why couldn’t Russia do the same in Ukraine? Why couldn’t China invade Taiwan? Why couldn’t Turkey annex Syrian territories? International law is dead. Killed by Trump. Buried in Venezuela.

And now? Now we are entering a world where the law of the strongest reigns supreme. A world where small countries have no protection. A world where natural resources belong to whoever has the strength to take them. A world where national sovereignty is no longer a right but a privilege reserved for the powerful. Yarvin called this a reactionary theory of peace. Peace through domination. Peace through the crushing of all opposition. The peace of empires. But is that really peace? Or is it simply the absence of resistance? The silence of the vanquished? The resignation of the oppressed? I don’t know. But I do know that this is not the world I want to live in.

What can we do?

Faced with this imperial machine, what can ordinary citizens do? Europeans who watch, horrified, as America sinks into neoreactionaryism? Americans who reject this drift toward authoritarianism? Latin Americans who see their continent once again becoming a playground for foreign powers? The answer isn’t simple. We cannot stop Trump. We cannot prevent the occupation of Venezuela. We cannot restore the international order on our own. But we can resist. Resist by refusing to accept this normalization of imperialism. Resist by continuing to denounce violations of international law. Resist by supporting democratic movements, in Latin America and elsewhere. Resist by building alternatives, transnational solidarities, and networks of resistance.

We can also prepare ourselves. Prepare Europe for a world where it can no longer count on the United States. A world where it will have to ensure its own defense, its own energy security, and its own technological sovereignty. This requires massive investments. Real strategic autonomy—not just a slogan. A political will that we do not yet possess. But one we will have to find, lest we, too, become targets. For let’s make no mistake: if Trump can do this to Venezuela, he can do it to us. Perhaps not in the same way. Perhaps not with bombs. But with sanctions, tariffs, political pressure, and interference in our elections. Imperialism has a thousand faces. And we must learn to recognize them all.

I end this article with a sense of vertigo. As if the ground were giving way beneath my feet. As if everything I believed in—international law, democracy, human dignity—were nothing but an illusion. Yarvin may be right about one thing: these values only hold if we defend them. If we’re willing to fight for them. If we reject cynicism, resignation, and silence. So I refuse. I refuse to accept that Yarvin’s world is inevitable. I refuse to believe that might always trumps right. I refuse to remain silent. And I hope you will refuse as well. Because if we don’t, if we let this imperial machine crush Venezuela and then other countries, then we will be complicit. And we won’t be able to say we didn’t know.

Sources

Primary Sources

Le Grand Continent, “Recolonization: The Curtis Yarvin Method for Occupying and Governing a Foreign State,” January 6, 2026. Al Jazeera, “Trump Bombs Venezuela, U.S. Abducts Maduro: All We Know,” January 3, 2026, updated January 4, 2026. Le Grand Continent, “Hemispheric Geopolitics: Understanding the Trump Doctrine,” January 5, 2026. Mediapart, “Trump Kicks Off 2026 by Implementing His Policy of Brutal Interference,” January 3, 2026. Le Monde, “For Donald Trump, ‘America First’ Starts in Caracas,” January 4, 2026.

Secondary Sources

The Conversation, “Friday Essay: Trump’s Reign Fits Curtis Yarvin’s Blueprint of a CEO-Led American Monarchy,” date not specified. Vox, “Who Is Curtis Yarvin, the Monarchist, Anti-Democracy Blogger?”, date not specified. The Guardian, “He’s Anti-Democracy and Pro-Trump: The Obscure ‘Dark Enlightenment’ Blogger,” December 21, 2024. Politico, “Curtis Yarvin’s Ideas Were Fringe. Now They’re Coursing Through the Trump Administration,” January 30, 2025. The New Yorker, “Curtis Yarvin’s Plot Against America,” June 9, 2025. Le Grand Continent, “U.S. National Security Strategy: The White House’s Plan Against Europe (Full Text),” December 6, 2025.

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