Strongman Geopolitics: Global Mediator or Rogue Superpower?
It was with an air of pomposity that President Donald Trump declared in an interview that “there is one thing” that can place a limit on his global powers: “My own morality. My own mind. It’s the only thing that can stop me” (NYT). In the case of Venezuela, how often does one have the chance to bust gangs who make a few drug trafficking trips annually and gain corporate access to the world’s largest oil reserves (the US controlling a mere 22% of production couldn’t possibly cut it) to seal the deal? Far be it from morality to spoil such a lucrative double-wammy (2025 INCSR/Reuters)!
While the president’s administration does profess to care about international law, his self-justifications have vacillated in every which way. First, in November, a Justice Department legal text proclaimed that boat strikes against alleged drug traffickers (at least 45 have been counted, killing over 151 people) were a defensive effort to protect regional allies from cartel violence (The Guardian/CNN). A legally dubious argument, it rests on a premise that doesn’t have any public evidence: that cartels are waging armed attacks against the police forces of Mexico and others, financed by cocaine shipments (The Guardian). And legal experts have said this legal logic only works if deaths on board these small boats are treated as an “enemy casualty” or “collateral damage” (The Guardian). Morality who?
This legal explanation not selling quite so well with the US public (America-first and all), Trump’s personal narrative has been about ending drug overdose deaths (The Guardian). Pundits are quick to question the numbers of Americans he claims to have saved from overdose—as high as 125,000—due to overgenerous calculations and sketchy data (PBS). It is nevertheless clear that action comes before explanation with Trump in office.
By the time January rolled around, any veneer of respect for the rules-based geopolitical order had crumbled. Despite the UN publishing statements detailing the charters and rulings that prohibit kidnapping and prosecuting heads of state, the Trump administration continues to treat Nicolás Maduro as an illegitimate president, giving them the pretense of immunity from international law (UN). President Trump asserted that the US would “rule the country until such time as [he could] do a safe transition,” effectively amounting to occupation. Venezuelans' right to self-determination and sovereignty over their resources is being violated. And what do we find the Americans discussing? “Taking out a tremendous amount of wealth out of the ground,” according to the president (UN). A stark contrast to his predecessors, Trump is not only blunt but also openly scornful of his legal obstacles. America-first, everyone!
When former US President George H. W. Bush unveiled Operation Desert Storm—a joint operation to liberate Kuwait from Iraqi annexation—from his Oval Office podium in 1991, the then-President foretold “a world where the rule of law, not the law of the jungle, [would govern] the conduct of nations.” Time and time again, Bush’s speech reminded the American people of the careful collaboration and compromise his administration used to coax Saddam Hussein into retreat. “Sanctions were tried for well over 5 months,” he declared, countless allies “traveled to Baghdad [attempting] to restore peace and justice,” but despite Hussein’s efforts to “make this a dispute between Iraq and the USA,” “28 nations have forces in the Gulf area standing shoulder to shoulder against Saddam Hussein.” “Regrettably,” he said, “we now believe that only force will make him leave.” The president’s tone was apologetic and sought to appease a country still weary from the Vietnam War’s futile loss of life and taxpayer dollars. He turned to empathy and agreeable justification in every paragraph, insisting that “this fighting will not go on for long and that casualties will be held to an absolute minimum” (The Gilder Lehrman Institute of American History). Compare this to what Donald Trump said in a recent speech: “we may have casualties, that often happens in war” (BBC).
It was not out of ideological or military meekness that Bush tiptoed around armed involvement. Throughout this period, the US maintained a dominant position within NATO, the most powerful military alliance the world had ever seen. In the years leading up to Hussein’s annexation, the US was chipping in up to 70% of total NATO expenditure and had left European members at the mercy of their strategic basics like satellite reconnaissance, heavy airlift aircraft, and precision-guided munitions (German Council on Foreign Relations).
So, why did the Bush administration hesitate? Well, in absolute terms, they didn’t.
It is a testament to the bullish nature of today’s US Commander in Chief that the US’s 1991 response can even be considered hesitant.
Under UN Charter regulation, it is legally permissible for a foreign power to intervene in a local conflict if the Security Council has declared it a “threat to international peace and security” and if a legitimate government in the state experiencing strife has invited the third party to intervene. Bush’s government took on a highly conciliatory approach with Hussein in the lead up to his annexation of Kuwait. He sent a delegation of US senators to de-escalate and hear out Hussein’s concerns about Kuwait stealing his oil reserves and refusing to cancel billions in dollars of debt (Anand).
The US followed this strict methodology to a tee, bringing together allies to pass Resolution 660 demanding Iraq’s immediate withdrawal, Resolution 661 imposing economic sanctions, and Resolution 663 declaring the annexation null and void. After increasing economic and military pressure alongside Saudi Arabia failed, Bush started petitioning the UN for authorisation to use force, resulting in Resolution 678 which finally allowed military force to be applied, 164 days after the annexation (US Office of the Historian).
Ultimately, this shift from Bush-era procedural multilateralism to Trump’s strongman “what I say goes” approach does more than just erode the US’s standing as a reliable mediator on the global stage. It also provides the perfect cover for burgeoning autocracies who are looking at creating their own sphere of influence. As the US seeks out executive referee status and resource domination at the expense of international charters, China’s ambitions to intimidate neighbours like Taiwan and dominate in the South China Sea become increasingly legitimised. China’s ballistic missile tests over Taiwan are becoming yearly occurrences; and when the US treats sovereignty as optional, as in Venezuela, its position to protest as a righteous peacekeeper is difficult to take seriously (Global Taiwan Institute).
Successive US administrations have, for decades, led the way in foreign interventions, often with surgical precision and responsibility. However, to prevent a US-facilitated slide back towards 19th century imperialism, a pivot towards a system underpinned by the rule of law must take place. While European allies of the US have tended to stay out of such interventions, they’ve always stood up for UN frameworks and refused to support maneuvers that benefit the intervener’s interests over international law. Their bureaucracy and occasional division make them imperfect, but their commitment to objective rules over the whims of individual leaders ensures “America first” doesn’t become “everyone for themselves,” something the US could learn from. So, when you’re next enticed to vote a tough-guy politician into office, consider if the form is worth the function.