U.S. Intervention in Venezuela and Regional Diplomatic Relations

The Venezuelan flag stands out in the crowd during an event held in an urban area. Illustrative image.

In the early hours of January 3, 2026, U.S. forces captured Venezuelan President Nicolás Maduro in an operation that shocked the international community and reignited the debate over the limits of international law in the Trump era. In the hours and days that followed, two worlds responded in radically different ways: the New York stock exchanges celebrated with significant gains in oil stocks, while foreign ministries around the globe issued carefully calibrated protests to avoid further damaging bilateral relations with the United States. The episode illuminates, with brutal clarity, the gap between the principles that govern diplomatic discourse and the tools—or the lack thereof—available to enforce them.

On January 4, 2026, the governments of Brazil, Chile, Colombia, Mexico, Uruguay, and Spain issued a joint statement regarding the events in Venezuela. In this statement, the nations reaffirmed their commitment to the enshrined principles of the United Nations: sovereign equality, peaceful settlement of disputes, prohibition of the use of force, self-determination of peoples, non-intervention, human rights, and good faith. At the beginning of the text, they explicitly condemn the unilateral attack suffered by Venezuela and express concern over the breach of fundamental principles of international law and the peace of the global system following U.S. actions. They reiterated the need to act with caution and in accordance with UN principles—which all UN member states accepted upon signing the UN Charter—and international law, while affirming that Venezuelans should undertake this process of political restructuring, taking into account sovereignty and self-determination, to reach a sustainable solution that respects human rights. Subsequently, they reaffirmed the peaceful nature of Latin America and regional unity in the face of any action that jeopardizes regional stability. To conclude the statement, they expressed opposition to any attempt at regional, political, or administrative control, or the appropriation of natural or strategic resources.

This statement comes as no surprise from Brazilian diplomacy, given that it has always demonstrated a peaceful nature, advocating for negotiation and the peaceful resolution of conflicts. In addition to this joint statement with other countries, Brazil’s ambassador to the UN Security Council, Sérgio França Danese, made an observation that perfectly reflects the essence of Brazilian diplomacy in the face of global conflicts: during his address at the Council session, the ambassador emphasized Brazil’s rejection and indignation regarding armed intervention in Venezuela for violating the United Nations Charter and international law. Danese also included in his speech historical reminders of the negative impacts that foreign military interventionism has had in Latin America and emphasized that this region is characterized by peace and the self-determination of its peoples, and that it must be maintained in this way.

To understand the logic behind U.S. intervention, one must start with what lies beneath the ground. Venezuela holds about 17% of the world’s known oil reserves—more than 300 billion barrels, a volume nearly four times that of the United States itself and greater than that of Saudi Arabia. Before the sanctions imposed by Washington, oil accounted for 96% of Venezuela’s national revenue. This is one of the hemisphere’s greatest geoeconomic prizes, and the intervention made its intentions clear from the very first hours. The markets’ reaction was immediate. Shares of Chevron—the only major U.S. oil company still operating in the country—soared by about 10% in pre-market trading following Maduro’s capture. ConocoPhillips rose 8.7%, and refiners such as Valero, Marathon, and PBF climbed between 5% and 16%, while oilfield service companies—Halliburton, Baker Hughes, and SLB—gained between 6.6% and 9%. Wall Street, in short, celebrated. Donald Trump was explicit about his plans: he promised that major U.S. oil companies would take control of Venezuelan exploration without the government having to invest a single cent. In February 2026, the Treasury Department formalized the strategy with a plan that facilitates exploration in the country—but with a revealing political clause: companies linked to China, Russia, North Korea, Cuba, and Iran are excluded.The operation is both economic and geopolitical: an attempt to pull one of the world’s largest oil reserves out of Beijing and Moscow’s orbit and reposition Washington as the arbiter of access to Venezuelan energy.

Analysts, however, warn of a two-pronged dynamic: in the short term, uncertainty about supply tends to drive up the price per barrel; in the long term, the unrestricted return of U.S. oil companies to the Venezuelan market would increase global supply and put downward pressure on prices. What Wall Street is celebrating today may, paradoxically, erode the margins of the very sector applauding the intervention—a contradiction that has not dampened investor enthusiasm but signals the complexity of what lies ahead. While the economic logic of the intervention is relatively clear, domestic support in the United States is far more fragile—and this helps explain why international protest has remained largely rhetorical. A Pew Research Center survey conducted in January 2026 with more than 8,500 adults revealed that only 44% of Americans trust Trump to make the right decisions regarding Venezuela. Regarding American companies’ access to Venezuelan oil—the heart of Trump’s plan—40% oppose it and only 37% support it. The divide is sharply partisan: 62% of Republicans support it; among Democrats, the same proportion opposes it. YouGov polls conducted shortly after Maduro’s capture show that the rise in support for the intervention came almost exclusively from the Republican electorate. For Democrats, the operation remains controversial in both its aims and its methods. There is, however, one point on which American public opinion converges in a revealing way: 78% of respondents say that Venezuela’s next president should be chosen by the Venezuelan people themselves, and only 6% believe that decision rests with the U.S. government. Only a quarter of Americans approve of Washington taking direct responsibility for the country. This is an intervention applauded by half the population, tolerated by the other half, and whose political ramifications have little domestic support. This has direct consequences for the international reaction: when a government acts against the will of a significant portion of its own electorate, the cost for allies who choose to protest without breaking ties is proportionally lower. Protest becomes a matter of principle—exactly the role that diplomatic communiqués ended up fulfilling.

It is in this context that the Lula administration’s reaction must be viewed—and its real limitations understood. The president condemned the operation in strong terms, calling it “unacceptable” and incompatible with international law, and argued that, if Maduro is to be tried, the proceedings should take place on Venezuelan soil. He offered to mediate on more than one occasion. He found no room to maneuver: neither Washington nor Caracas opened channels of communication. Brazil entered the crisis without effective dialogue with either side. Former Ambassador Rubens Ricupero, one of Brazil’s most experienced diplomats, was precise in describing this situation in an interview with Carta Capital: “There will be a protest, but within limits. Raising the tone too much won’t help, because it won’t serve any purpose. If it does, it will only make Brazil’s already strained relationship even more difficult.” The statement does not describe a political omission—it describes a structural constraint. Brazil protests on principle and restrains itself out of calculation: raising its voice would yield no results, but could prove costly in a bilateral relationship that is already in trouble. Ricupero goes further and lays bare the reason why the multilateral response has also proved illusory: the only body with effective power to act would be the UN Security Council—where the United States holds a veto. Any condemnatory resolution would be doomed to the archives before it was even voted on.

The picture that emerges is one of an international order that has the right words but lacks the mechanisms to act when the power violating the rules is precisely the one that should be restrained by them. At the same time, Lula signaled that Brazil will not accept U.S. impositions regarding critical minerals, stating that it prefers to negotiate the export of these resources as a sovereign nation. The statement points to a broader tension: the intervention in Venezuela is not an isolated episode, but a sign of a hemispheric realignment that calls into question the autonomy of Latin American economies rich in natural resources.