Will Trump treat Putin like Maduro? Zelensky’s shocking statement sends an explosive political message

The Context of the Russia-Ukraine Conflict

The war in Ukraine, which began on February 24, 2022, with a massive invasion of Ukrainian territory by Russian forces, has caused catastrophic human and material losses that exceed anything Europe has experienced since World War II. According to the most recent estimates from Western intelligence agencies, more than 500,000 Ukrainian and Russian soldiers have been killed or wounded since the start of the conflict, while Ukrainian civilian casualties number in the tens of thousands. Entire cities such as Mariupol, Bakhmut, Avdiivka, and many others have been razed by Russian artillery and airstrikes, forcing millions of Ukrainians to flee their homes. The Ukrainian economy has been devastated, with damage estimated at more than $750 billion according to the World Bank, and the country’s gross domestic product has fallen by nearly 30% since 2022. Despite massive military and financial support from Western countries, Ukraine is struggling to hold its front lines against a numerically superior Russian army with considerable human and material reserves.

Volodymyr Zelensky, the former comedian who became president of Ukraine in 2019, has emerged as the face of the Ukrainian resistance, traveling the world to plead his country’s case before international leaders and secure the support needed to continue fighting Russian aggression. His moving speeches before the U.S. Congress, the European Parliament, the British Parliament, and numerous other national assemblies have galvanized Western support for Ukraine, resulting in military aid packages totaling more than $150 billion since the start of the war. However, nearly four years after the invasion began, Ukraine is mired in a war of attrition that is draining its resources and its population, while the initial momentum of Western support is beginning to wane in the face of war fatigue and growing economic concerns in donor countries. Zelensky finds himself in an increasingly precarious position, under pressure to find a negotiated solution while refusing any territorial concessions that could be interpreted as a capitulation to Vladimir Putin’s Russia.

When I look at the images of a devastated Ukraine—cities in ruins, displaced families, children growing up amid fear and bombardment—I feel this deep, helpless anger rising within me. How is it possible that this could still be happening in 2026? How can the world stand by and watch this methodical destruction of an entire country by an aggressive empire without being able to stop it? Zelensky, this actor turned war leader by force of circumstance, embodies the desperate resistance of a small nation against an arrogant giant. I can’t help but admire his courage and determination, even when I question some of his political decisions. But more than anything, what moves me deeply is this human tragedy unfolding before our eyes—the collective suffering of a people who wanted nothing more than to live in peace and who now find themselves caught up in a geopolitical struggle that is completely beyond their control. And what is most appalling is the cruel reality that words and condemnations are not enough to stop tanks and missiles. Only force can stop force, and therein lies the impossible moral dilemma that makes us all hesitate.

Russia’s Position on the Operation in Venezuela

Russia’s reaction to the U.S. operation in Venezuela was immediate and extremely virulent, reflecting the deep geopolitical tensions between Moscow and Washington. The Russian Ministry of Foreign Affairs issued an official statement condemning the United States’ “blatant armed aggression” and demanding “the immediate release of Venezuela’s legitimately elected president and his wife.” The statement emphasizes that “Russia considers this action a flagrant violation of international law and the United Nations Charter” and calls on “the international community to unanimously condemn this act of unpunished aggression.” Kremlin spokesman Dmitry Peskov called the U.S. operation “state-sponsored kidnapping” and warned that “Russia reserves the right to take all necessary measures to protect its interests and those of its allies.” Several senior Russian officials, including Defense Minister Sergei Shoigu and Leonid Slutsky, chairman of the Duma Committee on International Affairs, have publicly compared the operation in Venezuela to the U.S. invasion of Iraq in 2003 and warned that “the world has entered an extremely dangerous period of instability and unpredictability.”

However, despite the bellicose rhetoric, Russia appears for now to be hesitant to take direct retaliatory measures against the United States, aware of the risks of a potentially catastrophic military escalation between the two nuclear powers. Analysts note that Moscow finds itself in a delicate position: on the one hand, it must demonstrate its support for its allies and its willingness to oppose what it considers American hegemony; on the other, it cannot afford to open a new front of confrontation while it is already deeply embroiled in the war in Ukraine. Some Russian experts suggest that Moscow’s response could take the form of increased support for U.S. adversaries in other regions of the world, particularly in the Middle East and Africa, rather than a direct confrontation with the United States. Others argue that Russia could intensify its cyberattacks against critical U.S. infrastructure or attempt to destabilize U.S. allies through influence operations and disinformation campaigns. In any case, the operation in Venezuela has undeniably reinforced Vladimir Putin’s conviction that Russia must maintain and strengthen its military and nuclear capabilities to deter any U.S. attempt to interfere in what Moscow considers its legitimate sphere of influence.

It is almost comical to see Russia lecturing on international law and national sovereignty, even as it has been violating Ukraine’s sovereignty with impunity for nearly four years. The hypocrisy reaches heights that defy imagination. On the one hand, Putin condemns the United States’ “armed aggression” in Venezuela and demands Maduro’s release; on the other, he continues to bomb Ukrainian cities, annex territories by force, and threaten Europe with his nuclear arsenal. This is a textbook example of the double standards that have always characterized international politics, but here they take on such grotesque proportions that it becomes difficult not to laugh bitterly. And what strikes me most is that, despite this obvious hypocrisy, Russia isn’t entirely wrong to be concerned. For if the United States can intervene militarily in Venezuela to capture its head of state, what guarantee does Putin have that they couldn’t do the same thing in Russia if the opportunity arose? It is this logic of “he who can do the more can do the less” that makes the international system so dangerous and unstable. Each power justifies its own actions with moral principles that it blithely violates when it suits its interests, and the result is a world where no rule really matters, except that of the balance of power.

Ukraine’s Strategic Dilemma

Zelensky’s statement drawing a parallel between Maduro and Putin must be understood in the context of the growing strategic dilemma Ukraine faces after nearly four years of exhausting war. On the one hand, Ukraine continues to receive significant military and financial support from Western countries, which have supplied sophisticated weapons systems, including HIMARS missiles, Leopard and Abrams tanks, F-16 fighter jets, and Patriot air defense systems. On the other hand, this support is beginning to show signs of waning amid war fatigue in Western public opinion, growing economic concerns related to inflation and the costs of aid, and internal political divisions in several key countries such as the United States and Germany. Recent parliamentary elections in several European countries have seen the rise of Euroskeptic and pacifist parties that are questioning the current level of support for Ukraine, while in the United States, Congress is increasingly divided over whether to continue approving massive aid packages without a clear prospect of a quick victory.

Against this backdrop, Zelensky is facing growing pressure from some Western allies to explore diplomatic avenues toward a resolution of the conflict, even if this involves potentially painful territorial concessions. Peace proposals circulating in Western foreign ministries include, in particular, the idea of a ceasefire along current front lines, the organization of a referendum in the occupied territories under international supervision, and security guarantees for Ukraine that would not necessarily include its immediate accession to NATO. Zelensky has publicly rejected any solution that would involve ceding Ukrainian territory to Russia, insisting that “Ukraine will not negotiate on its sovereignty and territorial integrity.” However, in private, some presidential advisers acknowledge that Ukraine cannot continue the war indefinitely without the prospect of a clear military victory, and that compromises may eventually have to be considered. It is in this context that Zelensky’s statement drawing a parallel between Maduro and Putin takes on its full significance: by suggesting that the United States should treat Putin as it treated Maduro, Zelensky is attempting to rekindle Western support and remind his allies that the war in Ukraine is not merely a regional conflict, but a fundamental clash between democracy and authoritarianism that deserves the same level of commitment as the intervention in Venezuela.

Zelensky finds himself in an impossible position, caught between his duty to defend his country to the very end and the overwhelming reality of the strategic and political constraints weighing on him. On the one hand, he cannot accept ceding a single square meter of Ukrainian territory to Putin without betraying the sacrifice of thousands of soldiers and civilians who died defending their homeland. On the other hand, he knows that Ukraine cannot win this war alone, and that without Western support, it will inevitably be crushed by the Russian war machine. And now that support is beginning to waver: Western public opinion is growing weary, politicians are seeking diplomatic solutions, and Ukraine finds itself increasingly isolated in the face of a Russia that shows no sign of wavering in its determination to conquer Ukrainian territory. It is this tragic reality that is driving Zelensky to make this statement about Maduro and Putin—as a desperate plea not to abandon Ukraine, as a reminder that the fight for democracy and freedom cannot be waged selectively, by choosing which dictators to confront and which to leave alone. I don’t know if this strategy will work, but I understand why he’s trying. It’s all he has left.

Redefining the Rules of Interventionism

The U.S. operation in Venezuela and Zelensky’s statement drawing a parallel with Putin could mark a fundamental turning point in the doctrine of international interventionism and redefine the rules governing relations between sovereign states. Since the end of the Cold War, international law had gradually moved toward a near-absolute prohibition on the use of force against a sovereign state, with the exception of two limited cases: explicit authorization by the United Nations Security Council and self-defense in the event of armed aggression. The doctrine of the “responsibility to protect,” developed after the genocides in Rwanda and Bosnia, had introduced a controversial exception allowing for humanitarian interventions to protect populations from mass atrocities, but its application remained extremely rare and subject to strict conditions. The U.S. operation in Venezuela does not fit within any of these established legal frameworks: it was not authorized by the Security Council, it does not constitute self-defense in the traditional sense, and although the Maduro regime has been accused of human rights violations, these accusations did not legally justify a unilateral military intervention aimed at capturing the head of state.

This dangerous precedent could open Pandora’s box to a new wave of interventionism—not only by the United States, but also potentially by China, Russia, or Iran. If the United States can legitimize a military intervention in Venezuela in the name of combating narco-terrorism and defending democracy, what would prevent China from intervening in Taiwan in the name of national reunification or its territorial integrity? What would prevent Russia from intervening in a Baltic country to “protect” Russian-speaking populations, as it claimed to do in Ukraine? What would prevent Iran from intervening in Iraq or Syria to defend its regional strategic interests? The logic of selective interventionism, based on shifting interpretations of morality and national interests, threatens to transform the international system into an arena of conflict where the law of the strongest would take precedence over established legal norms. International legal experts and diplomats warn that this precedent could trigger a cascade of military interventions justified by a variety of motivations, ranging from the fight against terrorism to the defense of human rights, the protection of ethnic minorities, and the promotion of democracy.

When I see how the rules of the international game can be rewritten overnight by those with the power to do so, I feel that deep weariness that overtakes all those who still believe in an international order based on law rather than force. Years, even decades, of gradually building a legal and institutional framework meant to protect small states from the arbitrary actions of larger ones—and all of that can be swept away overnight by a decision made in a situation room in Washington. It is both fascinating and terrifying to see how power truly operates at this level: not according to ethical or legal principles, but according to strategic calculations and constantly shifting balances of power. And the greatest irony is that those who are destroying this system today will be the first to complain about it when they become its victims tomorrow. It is this political myopia—this inability to think beyond immediate interests and short-term gains—that characterizes so many leaders throughout history. They build the tools of their own destruction without even realizing it, convinced that the power they hold today will last forever.

Lessons from History: Comparisons and Differences

Historians and political analysts were quick to draw comparisons between the operation in Venezuela and other notable U.S. military interventions of the past, including the 1989 invasion of Panama to capture Manuel Noriega, the 2003 invasion of Iraq to overthrow Saddam Hussein, and the 2011 intervention in Libya that led to the capture and death of Muammar Gaddafi. Each of these interventions had its own specific justifications: the fight against drug trafficking in the case of Noriega, the threat of weapons of mass destruction in the case of Saddam Hussein, and the protection of civilians from a brutal regime in the case of Gaddafi. However, all these interventions share certain characteristics in common with the operation in Venezuela: a militarily superior power using force to overthrow or capture a foreign leader it considers hostile; a justification based on a combination of strategic interests and moral concerns; and unpredictable and often destabilizing consequences for the region in question.

However, there are also significant differences between these historical precedents and the operation in Venezuela. Unlike Panama, which was geographically close to the United States and historically linked to Washington by close ties, Venezuela is located in South America, a region where traditional U.S. influence has eroded in favor of new powers such as China and Russia. Unlike in Iraq, where the United States had mobilized a broad international coalition and secured a United Nations Security Council resolution prior to the invasion, the operation in Venezuela was carried out unilaterally by the United States without the explicit endorsement of the international community. Unlike in Libya, where the intervention was authorized by the Security Council under a mandate to protect civilians, the operation in Venezuela has no clear legal basis in international law. These differences suggest that the Venezuela precedent could be even more dangerous than previous interventions, as it combines U.S. unilateralism with a target located in a region where rival powers have significant strategic interests and the capacity to oppose it.

History teaches us a great deal, but we are terribly good at ignoring its lessons when they don’t suit us. Each new intervention is presented as “different,” “unique,” and “justified” by exceptional circumstances that will never happen again. And then, a few years later, we find ourselves doing exactly the same thing, with the same justifications and the same predictable consequences. It is this obsessive repetition of past mistakes that makes me doubt our collective ability to learn and progress. The leaders who orchestrated the operation in Venezuela know full well what happened in Iraq, Libya, and Afghanistan. They are aware of the human, financial, and political costs of these interventions. And yet, they still decided to launch yet another reckless military adventure. Why? Because they are convinced that this time will be different, that they will do better than their predecessors, that they have learned from past failures. It is this arrogance—this conviction that history does not apply to us—that inevitably leads to the repetition of the same catastrophes. And the saddest part is that it is always the same innocent people who pay the price for these delusions of grandeur.

The Perspective of the Global South

The reaction of the Global South to the U.S. operation in Venezuela has been largely negative, reflecting a deep-seated historical distrust of Western interventionism and a growing fear that this precedent will be used to justify similar interventions in other regions of the world. India, Brazil, South Africa, and Indonesia—which play an increasingly important role in international forums such as the G20 and BRICS—have issued statements condemning the use of military force and calling for respect for Venezuelan sovereignty. These countries, which themselves were subjected to Western interventionism during the colonial and post-colonial periods, view the operation in Venezuela as a continuation of a model of imperialist domination that allows Western powers to dictate the rules of the international game while exempting themselves from those rules when it suits them.

Several leaders from the Global South have publicly expressed their fears that the precedent set by Venezuela will be used to justify future military interventions against governments that oppose Western interests, particularly in Africa, Asia, and Latin America. The Brazilian president stated that “the world cannot accept that powerful countries assume the right to change governments by military force,” while the Indian prime minister warned that “military unilateralism threatens to plunge the world back into an era of instability and conflict.” The African Union issued a statement condemning “aggression against a sovereign state” and calling on “the international community to resist any attempt to normalize military interventionism as a tool of foreign policy.” These reactions reflect a growing awareness in the Global South that the current international system, dominated by Western institutions and norms, must be profoundly reformed to reflect the multipolar reality of the 21st century and protect the interests and sovereignty of all states, regardless of their size or military power.

It is a bitter irony to see how the Global South, which has been the scene of so many destructive Western interventions throughout history, now finds itself as the last bastion of defense for international law and national sovereignty. The countries that have suffered from colonialism, neocolonialism, CIA-orchestrated coups, and “humanitarian” military interventions—which were nothing more than disguised regime changes—are now the ones reminding the world that the rules of international law must apply to everyone, without exception. It is a form of poetic justice, but also a troubling indication of the state of the world today. When Western countries—which present themselves as the champions of democracy and the rule of law—are the first to violate the very principles they claim to defend, and when the Global South becomes the guardian of international norms, it means that something profoundly dysfunctional has occurred in the world order. And what concerns me most is that this reversal of roles risks leading to an irreversible fragmentation of the international system, with two antagonistic blocs that no longer communicate, no longer understand one another, and no longer share any common frame of reference.

The Official Justification for the Intervention

The Trump administration justified the operation in Venezuela with a combination of security, legal, and moral arguments aimed at legitimizing a military intervention that contradicts many traditional positions of U.S. foreign policy. In a televised address to the nation on January 3, 2026, President Trump stated that “America cannot stand idly by while a narco-terrorist dictator uses his power to destroy his own people and threaten the safety of our citizens.” He emphasized that “Maduro had personally overseen an international drug trafficking network that had flooded American streets with cocaine and other deadly drugs, causing tens of thousands of deaths in our country.” The president also addressed the massive human rights violations committed by the Maduro regime, citing reports from the United Nations and human rights organizations that document extrajudicial killings, enforced disappearances, torture, and systematic arbitrary detentions.

Legally, the Trump administration invoked the doctrine of expanded self-defense, asserting that Maduro’s narco-terrorist activities constituted a direct threat to U.S. national security and that the capture of this leader was necessary to neutralize that threat. The U.S. Attorney General announced that Maduro would be prosecuted for “narco-terrorism”—a charge rarely brought against heads of state—and that the trial would demonstrate the Venezuelan president’s “direct and personal involvement” in criminal activities that had caused “enormous suffering” to the Venezuelan and American people. The administration also emphasized that the operation had been conducted with a “constant concern to avoid civilian casualties” and that the airstrikes had been “surgically targeted” at purely military installations. However, these statements were immediately contested by humanitarian organizations on the ground, which reported considerable damage to residential areas and significant civilian casualties.

Listening to the Trump administration’s justifications for this military intervention is like witnessing a perfectly polished political communication exercise that is completely disconnected from reality. The words are carefully chosen, the arguments are presented in legal terms, and emotions are skillfully manipulated, but deep down, one senses that all of this is merely a mask to hide much more prosaic motivations: the desire to strengthen American influence in a strategic region, the ambition to score a major political coup on the eve of the midterm elections, and the determination to demonstrate that America is back as a dominant power after years of perceived weakness. And what strikes me most is this ability politicians have to say things they know full well are false with absolute conviction. Trump can declare with the utmost seriousness that the operation was conducted with a “constant concern to avoid civilian casualties,” even as independent reports document dozens of civilian deaths. It is this disconnect between words and reality—this ability to lie without batting an eye—that frightens me most about contemporary politics. Not because politicians have always lied—that’s in the nature of the job—but because today they can do so with such sophistication, such mastery of the media and communication, that lies become almost indistinguishable from the truth.

The Response to Zelensky’s Statement

The Trump administration’s reaction to Zelensky’s statement drawing a parallel between Maduro and Putin was notable for its caution and calculated ambiguity. Contrary to the expectations of some observers who anticipated that Trump would openly embrace the comparison, the White House adopted a more nuanced position that reflects the complexities of U.S. policy toward Russia and Ukraine. During her daily briefing, White House Press Secretary Karoline Leavitt stated that “the President appreciates President Zelensky’s leadership and his unwavering commitment to freedom and democracy in Ukraine,” but added that “every geopolitical situation is unique and requires an approach tailored to the specific circumstances.” She emphasized that “the Trump administration remains committed to supporting Ukraine by all necessary means to repel Russian aggression,” but declined to comment on the possibility of future actions similar to those undertaken in Venezuela.

This cautious response reflects internal divisions within the Trump administration on the issue of Russia and Ukraine. On the one hand, some advisers—particularly those aligned with the traditional MAGA camp—are skeptical of deep U.S. involvement in Ukraine and prefer a more transactional approach to foreign policy that prioritizes direct U.S. interests over obligations to distant allies. On the other hand, more conservative national security advisers, including some members of the Pentagon and the State Department, view Vladimir Putin’s Russia as an existential threat to the liberal international order and believe the United States must resolutely support Ukraine to prevent the consolidation of an aggressive Russian sphere of influence in Eastern Europe. President Trump himself seems to waver between these two positions, at times expressing admiration for Putin’s “strength” while condemning his invasion of Ukraine, and affirming his support for Zelensky while criticizing the financial cost of U.S. aid to Ukraine.

It is fascinating to observe the complex diplomatic dance the Trump administration is performing on this issue. Zelensky is offering him a huge political lifeline—a way to present himself as the undisputed champion of the fight against global authoritarianism—and Trump refuses to take it. Why? Because he knows that comparing Maduro to Putin is like opening a Pandora’s box that he’d rather keep closed. Maduro is a third-rate dictator, relatively isolated on the international stage, easy to target without catastrophic consequences. Putin is something else entirely: the leader of a major nuclear power, a permanent member of the UN Security Council, and a power with deep alliances with China and Iran. To take on Putin the way Maduro was taken on would be to risk a direct confrontation between the two greatest nuclear powers on the planet, with potentially apocalyptic consequences. Trump may be impulsive and unpredictable, but he’s not suicidal. And then there is the ambiguous relationship he maintains with Putin—his undisguised admiration for strongmen who take what they want by force. How could he call for treating Putin as a criminal when he spends his time extolling Putin’s leadership qualities? It is this fundamental contradiction that paralyzes the Trump administration and prevents it from responding clearly to Zelensky’s appeal.

Implications for U.S. Domestic Policy

The operation in Venezuela and the international reactions it has sparked have significant implications for U.S. domestic politics, particularly as the November 2026 midterm elections approach. Republicans have largely supported the Trump administration’s action, with House Speaker Mike Johnson calling the operation a “decisive victory for freedom and democracy” and suggesting that “America has shown the world that we will no longer tolerate dictators who threaten international security.” Republican senators also hailed Maduro’s capture, with Senator Lindsey Graham stating that “this is a great day for America and for all who believe in freedom,” and suggesting that “the message is clear: if you are a dictator who threatens American interests, you will be held accountable.”

Democrats, on the other hand, took a more nuanced and critical stance, reflecting the party’s internal divisions on the issue of military interventionism. Moderate Democrats, particularly those from swing states, generally supported the operation while expressing reservations about the lack of consultation with Congress and the risks of escalation with Russia and China. House Minority Leader Hakeem Jeffries stated that “the United States must hold dictators accountable for crimes against humanity,” but added that “Congress must be fully informed and involved in decisions that commit our country to military operations abroad.” Progressive Democrats, on the other hand, strongly condemned the intervention, with Representative Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez calling the operation an “illegal imperialist act” and warning that “America cannot afford another costly military adventure when we need to invest in the needs of our own people.” Senator Bernie Sanders stated that “capturing Maduro will not solve Venezuela’s deep-seated problems” and called for a multilateral diplomatic approach rather than military unilateralism.

This political division within the Democratic Party over military interventionism reflects a broader tension that has run through American society since the end of the Cold War: between those who believe the United States has a moral responsibility to promote democracy and human rights around the world, and those who believe that U.S. resources should be prioritized for the country’s domestic needs. Progressives are right to highlight the exorbitant costs of U.S. military interventions, which run into the trillions of dollars and thousands of American lives lost. But moderates are also right to point out that isolationism has its own costs, particularly in terms of international influence and the ability to shape a world that reflects American values. This dilemma will never have a perfectly satisfactory solution, as it pits two legitimate but incompatible conceptions of the United States’ role in the world against one another. What concerns me is that this internal division is deepening to the point of rendering U.S. foreign policy incoherent and unpredictable, which would be catastrophic for global stability at such a critical moment in history.

An International System in Flux

The convergence of the U.S. operation in Venezuela and Zelensky’s statement drawing a parallel between Maduro and Putin potentially marks the beginning of a new era in international relations, characterized by the return of heavy-handed interventionism and the challenging of the rules of the game that had prevailed since the end of the Cold War. The international system—based on multilateralism, international law, and the prohibition on the use of force between states—though imperfect and often violated, had at least provided a common framework that allowed nations to coexist and resolve their disputes through peaceful means. This system is now profoundly shaken by the emergence of revisionist powers such as Russia and China, which reject Western hegemony and seek to establish a new multipolar order, but also by the actions of Western powers such as the United States, which seem increasingly willing to resort to military unilateralism to defend what they consider to be their vital interests.

This transformation of the international system is creating an environment of uncertainty and heightened risk for all actors, large and small. Emerging powers such as India, Brazil, and Indonesia, which had hoped to navigate between the traditional blocs and defend their national interests within a multilateral framework, now find themselves faced with increasingly difficult and potentially dangerous choices. Medium-sized countries, which had been able to rely on the guarantees of international law to protect their sovereignty against intervention by major powers, are discovering with concern that these guarantees are rapidly eroding and that force is once again becoming the ultimate arbiter of international relations. Even the United States’ traditional allies are concerned to see Washington resorting to military unilateralism without consulting its partners, fearing that this precedent might one day be used against their own interests.

When I look at the world emerging before our eyes, I feel that mix of fascination and dread that characterizes moments of historic upheaval. We are witnessing in real time the end of one era and the difficult beginning of another, without having the slightest idea of what this new era has in store for us. The international order I have known all my life—with its flaws and imperfections, but also its certainties and frameworks—is disintegrating before our eyes. And what is replacing it is still vague, incoherent, and potentially far more dangerous. The rules that were put in place after the horrors of World War II to prevent such atrocities from happening again are being swept aside by the brutal logic of power dynamics. The institutions that were created to foster dialogue and cooperation among nations are being marginalized or circumvented by those with the power to do so. And what is most frightening is that no one seems to have a clear vision of what the world should look like instead. Some want a return to American hegemony, which no longer truly exists. Others dream of a balanced multipolar world that no one knows how to build. And in between, the world keeps turning, caught in a chaotic transition that could take decades to stabilize.

The International Community’s Moral Dilemma

Zelensky’s statement drawing a parallel between Maduro and Putin highlights a fundamental moral dilemma that has haunted the international community for decades: how to reconcile the moral imperative to defend human rights and combat dictatorships with the pragmatic necessity of maintaining international stability and avoiding widespread conflict? On the one hand, the moral argument is irrefutable: dictators like Maduro and Putin commit unforgivable atrocities against their own people and against neighboring peoples, and the international community has a moral duty to intervene to put an end to this suffering. The victims of these regimes cannot be left to their fate simply because their oppressor has the power to inflict harm if attacked. Justice demands that criminals, regardless of their rank or power, be held accountable for their actions.

On the other hand, the pragmatic argument is just as compelling: every military intervention, even when motivated by the best moral intentions, creates unpredictable and often catastrophic consequences that can cause more suffering than it was intended to alleviate. History is replete with examples of interventions that began as noble humanitarian missions and ended up plunging entire countries into chaos, civil war, and misery. Furthermore, the principle of the sovereign equality of states, though imperfect in its implementation, remains the best safeguard against a world in which every great power would claim the right to intervene wherever it sees fit, based on its own moral judgment. If every powerful country were to unilaterally decide to overthrow dictators it considers immoral, the world would become an arena of constant conflict where force would take precedence over law.

This moral dilemma is insoluble, and that is what makes it so painful. On the one hand, I know with certainty that allowing dictators like Maduro or Putin to oppress their people with impunity and invade their neighbors is morally unacceptable. How could I sleep soundly knowing that thousands of human beings are suffering and dying because the international community prioritizes “stability” over justice? On the other hand, I am well aware of the history of military interventions—their human costs, their repeated failures, and their unpredictable and often disastrous consequences. How could I call for new interventions knowing that they risk causing even more suffering than they seek to end? It is this inability to choose between two evils that paralyzes me. And what saddens me most is that this dilemma has no satisfactory solution. Every choice we make will have tragic consequences for innocent people. The only consolation I can find is that we must at least be aware of this dilemma, acknowledge it clearly, and not pretend that there are simple or morally pure solutions. Intellectual honesty is the first step toward any responsible decision.

An Uncertain Future: Possible Scenarios

Several scenarios are possible for the future of international relations in the wake of the operation in Venezuela and Zelensky’s statement. In the most optimistic scenario, the operation in Venezuela could mark the beginning of a new international consensus on the need to hold dictators accountable for crimes against humanity, with the establishment of more effective multilateral mechanisms to authorize and regulate such interventions. The major powers, aware of the dangers of a world without rules, could come together to reform the United Nations and create a legal framework better suited to the realities of the 21st century, allowing for legitimate humanitarian interventions while preserving the principles of sovereignty and equality among states. In this scenario, Maduro’s capture could serve as a catalyst for a revival of multilateralism and greater protection of fundamental rights worldwide.

In the most pessimistic scenario, however, the operation in Venezuela could instead mark the beginning of a new era of military unilateralism and confrontation among the major powers. Russia and China, perceiving U.S. intervention as a direct threat to their strategic interests, could intensify their efforts to challenge U.S. hegemony and build an alternative international order based on different rules. Countries in the Global South, feeling threatened by this new interventionism, might draw closer to Russia and China, creating an anti-Western bloc that would systematically oppose U.S. initiatives in international forums. In this scenario, the world would divide into antagonistic blocs, with decisions made based on which camp a country belongs to rather than on universal principles. This would mark a return to the logic of the Cold War, but one that is potentially more dangerous because it is more multipolar and therefore more unstable.

Between these two extremes lies an intermediate scenario—one that is more likely but harder to predict with precision. In this scenario, the world would evolve toward a form of pragmatic multipolarism in which the major powers would continue to compete for influence but would also seek to cooperate on issues of common interest, such as climate change, global health, and pandemic prevention. Unilateral military interventions would remain possible but would become rarer and more selective, generally limited to cases where the intervening power is convinced that its vital interests are at stake and that the costs of intervention are acceptable. This would be a world less idealistic than the post-Cold War liberal international order, but also less dangerous than a return to outright bloc confrontation. A world where realpolitik would reassert itself, but tempered by the awareness that cooperation remains necessary in the face of global challenges that transcend national rivalries.

When I try to imagine what the future holds, I am confronted with the fundamental reality that the future is fundamentally unpredictable, especially in the realm of international relations. Analysts and experts can propose all the scenarios they want, plot all the probability curves, but history always has a way of surprising us, throwing us off course, and taking turns that no one anticipated. What seems certain to me is that we are living through a period of historic transition, that the old world is dying, and that the new one is still in the making. What also seems certain to me is that this transition will be long, painful, and potentially violent. Transitions between international orders are never smooth. But what gives me a little hope is that humanity has gone through similar periods in the past and has always come out the other side—changed but still standing. We will likely face difficult times in the years ahead—perhaps even difficult decades—but I want to believe that at the end of this transition, a new international order will emerge, one that is better—or at least better suited to the realities of the 21st century—than the one we are leaving behind.