The US capture of Venezuela’s Nicolas Maduro and airstrikes on Caracas have been justified in the name of democracy, raising questions about Washington’s selective definition of dictatorship.
BY Navin Upadhyay
January 4, 2025: When the United States justified its airstrikes on Caracas and the capture of Venezuelan President Nicolas Maduro, it once again reached for the language of moral urgency: dictatorship, human rights, defence of democracy. Maduro, Washington declared, was an authoritarian menace whose removal was both necessary and righteous.
Maduro may indeed be a dictator. Venezuela under his rule has witnessed repression, economic collapse, and the erosion of democratic institutions. But if dictatorship were truly the standard that triggered American military action, Maduro would barely qualify as a primary offender. His real transgression is not tyranny—it is weakness.
Maduro governs a battered, sanctioned country with little diplomatic leverage and no meaningful capacity to resist the United States. He is a small dictator, one whose downfall carries minimal strategic risk. That is why he could be targeted under the banner of morality. The world’s most entrenched and brutal autocrats—those whose actions have caused mass suffering on a far greater scale—remain untouched, not because they are less cruel, but because they are powerful.
Consider Vladimir Putin. His war in Ukraine has resulted in hundreds of thousands of casualties, the destruction of entire cities, and the displacement of millions. Russian forces have been accused of war crimes, including attacks on civilians, hospitals, and energy infrastructure. International arrest warrants exist. Yet Donald Trump has signalled a readiness to “end the war” by allowing Russia to retain large swathes of occupied Ukrainian territory—effectively rewarding aggression and legitimising conquest.
Putin’s defiance is not punished; it is negotiated with. His brutality is framed as realism. The lives lost in Ukraine become bargaining chips in the pursuit of a deal. Putin remains beyond reach not because his crimes are smaller than Maduro’s, but because confronting him carries consequences.
China’s Xi Jinping represents an even more powerful contradiction. Under Xi, China has built one of the most sophisticated authoritarian systems in history—mass surveillance, censorship, political purges, and the systematic repression of minorities. Uyghurs have been detained in re-education camps, Hong Kong’s freedoms dismantled, and dissent crushed nationwide.
❗️🇺🇸⚔️🇻🇪 – First images emerge of Venezuelan President Nicolás Maduro disembarking from a plane at Stewart Air National Guard Base in New York after his capture by U.S. forces in Caracas.
He is expected to appear before a federal judge in Manhattan next week on narco-terrorism… pic.twitter.com/5WPjLozvLo
— 🔥🗞The Informant (@theinformant_x) January 4, 2026
Recently, Beijing openly warned the United States against selling arms to Taiwan, a democratic island facing constant military intimidation. It was a direct threat from a confident superpower. Xi is not sanctioned into isolation or branded an immediate target. He is handled cautiously because China’s economic and military weight makes moral posturing costly.
Then there is North Korea, arguably the most totalitarian regime on earth. Under Kim Jong Un, the state controls every aspect of life—media, movement, thought itself. Political prison camps, executions, famine, and hereditary rule define the system. No credible observer disputes North Korea’s status as a human rights catastrophe.
Yet Kim Jong Un has repeatedly mocked Donald Trump—through missile tests, propaganda, and theatrical diplomacy. Trump, in response, traded insults, then praise, then photo-ops. He called Kim “strong,” exchanged letters, and legitimised the regime on the global stage, all while North Korea continued expanding its nuclear arsenal. The world’s most extreme dictatorship was not bombed, sanctioned into collapse, or dismantled—because it is dangerous, unpredictable, and armed.
READ: US Mocks Maduro, Shares His “Come and Get Me” Clip
The Middle East further exposes the selectivity of American outrage. Absolute monarchies rule without elections, imprison critics, suppress women’s rights, and criminalise dissent. These regimes are not condemned as dictatorships; they are strategic partners. Their abuses are overlooked in exchange for oil, arms deals, and geopolitical alignment.
Israel’s record adds another layer of contradiction. Despite repeated accusations by international human rights organisations of serious violations of international law, Washington’s support remains unwavering. Civilian deaths, collective punishment, and the destruction of civilian infrastructure are reframed or ignored when they clash with strategic loyalty.
Seen against this global landscape, Trump’s Venezuela operation appears less like a defence of democratic values and more like an exercise in selective morality. Maduro was isolated, weak, and expendable. Labeling him a dictator cost nothing. Confronting Putin, Xi, or Kim would demand real sacrifice, risk, and consistency.
The underlying doctrine is blunt: dictatorship is not defined by repression, mass suffering, or human rights abuses. It is defined by inconvenience. If you are weak and disposable, your crimes are intolerable. If you are strong, armed, or economically indispensable, your crimes become negotiable.
This is not a foreign policy rooted in principles. It is a hierarchy of power disguised as moral clarity—where human rights are invoked against the powerless and quietly shelved when they threaten profit, alliances, or stability.
Trump’s action against Venezuela does not mark a stand against authoritarianism. It exposes a deeper truth of modern geopolitics: justice is enforced downward, never upward—and strength, not morality, decides who is called a dictator.
