How Oil, Drugs and Immigration Fueled Trump’s Venezuela Campaign
One spring evening in the Oval Office, President Trump inquired of Secretary of State Marco Rubio about how to adopt a stricter stance towards Venezuela. This was shortly before Memorial Day, and anti-leftist Cuban American lawmakers, whose support Mr. Trump needed for his key domestic policy legislation, were urging him to tighten sanctions on Venezuela by halting Chevron’s oil operations. However, Mr. Trump was reluctant to forfeit the U.S.’s only foothold in Venezuela’s oil sector, where China holds significant influence. The president was contemplating allowing Chevron’s operations to continue. But he informed Mr. Rubio, a longstanding advocate for tough policies against Venezuela and Cuba, that they needed to demonstrate to the lawmakers and skeptics that they could apply significant pressure on Nicolás Maduro, the authoritarian leader of Venezuela, whom Mr. Trump had aimed to remove during his first term. Another advisor present, Stephen Miller, proposed his own ideas. In his role as homeland security adviser, he had been discussing Mr. Trump’s campaign promise to bomb fentanyl labs. For various reasons, that concept had diminished, and in the previous weeks, Mr. Miller had shifted his focus to potential strikes on vessels suspected of transporting drugs off the coast of Central America.
Mr. Miller’s considerations were not specifically aimed at Venezuela, which does not produce fentanyl. Yet, that evening, three distinct policy objectives began to converge — undermining Mr. Maduro, employing military action against drug cartels, and ensuring that U.S. companies had access to Venezuela’s extensive oil resources.
Two months later, Mr. Trump approved a confidential directive instructing the Pentagon to engage in military operations against Latin American drug cartels, explicitly advocating for maritime assaults. While the operation was justified under the banner of combating drugs, its primary focus would be on deploying considerable naval resources off the Venezuelan coastline. The outcome has been a progressively militarized pressure initiative aimed at displacing Mr. Maduro from his position. This initiative has resulted in U.S. strikes that have resulted in the deaths of at least 105 individuals on vessels in the Caribbean and eastern Pacific, a quasi-blockade of oil tankers moving in and out of Venezuelan harbors, and Mr. Trump’s threats of conducting land strikes within Venezuela. This development illustrates the intertwined ambitions of Mr. Rubio and Mr. Miller, who have collaborated on strategies against Mr. Maduro. Each has approached the issue with their own set of long-standing objectives: for Mr. Rubio, the son of Cuban immigrants and a national security adviser to Mr. Trump, the opportunity to dismantle or incapacitate the governments of Venezuela and its ally, Cuba; and for Mr. Miller, an architect of anti-immigration policies, a chance to advance his agenda of mass deportations and target criminal entities in Latin America.
This narrative of how Venezuela became a focal point of the administration’s foreign policy this year — reaching the potential threshold of a military conflict — is drawn from discussions with current and former U.S. officials, the majority of whom agreed to share insights only on the condition of anonymity due to the delicate nature of national security matters. Among the insights gathered: The emphasis on Venezuela heightened after late May, when Mr. Trump expressed frustration over challenging negotiations related to Chevron. Venezuela’s oil has assumed a more crucial role in Mr. Trump’s considerations than previously acknowledged.
In early summer meetings, Mr. Rubio and Mr. Miller engaged with Mr. Trump about the possibility of striking Venezuela. The president appeared to be influenced by Mr. Rubio’s assertion that Mr. Maduro should be classified as a drug kingpin. Mr. Miller indicated to officials that if the U.S. were to go to war with Venezuela, the Trump administration could invoke the Alien Enemies Act, an 18th-century legislation, to accelerate the deportation of hundreds of thousands of Venezuelans from whom the administration had revoked temporary protected status. Earlier in the year, he and Mr. Rubio had successfully used it to rapidly deport hundreds of Venezuelans to a notorious prison in El Salvador, only to be halted by judicial rulings.
The classified order for military action against the cartels that Mr. Trump signed on July 25, requesting maritime strikes, represents the first documented directive from the president on this matter. Administration officials referred to the vessel attacks as “Phase One,” with SEAL Team Six leading the efforts. Discussions have included an ambiguous “Phase Two,” wherein Army Delta Force units might execute land operations.
Defense Secretary Pete Hegseth kept numerous career military officials and legal advisors out of the creation of the “execute order” governing the boat strikes. As a result, the order contained troubling gaps, including an absence of guidelines for handling survivors. Mr. Rubio, Mr. Miller, and other key figures managed a process that was often disorganized and shrouded in secrecy. Their capacity to confine planning to a limited circle was facilitated by significant cutbacks throughout the year in sections of the federal apparatus, such as the National Security Council, which typically oversees interagency discussions.
In September, the administration entered what has thus far been the most violent phase of its anti-Maduro initiative. This has resulted in 29 fatal boat strikes in the past four months, actions that many legal experts characterize as murders or war crimes. The administration asserts it possesses intelligence connecting the boats to drug trafficking but has not publicly provided evidence to support that claim. Anna Kelly, a White House spokesperson, stated that the administration was striving “to deliver on the president’s agenda to keep this poison out of our communities.”
Mr. Rubio informed reporters on December 19 that the intent of the boat strikes was to instill a sense of fear in traffickers by ensuring “no one wants to get on drug boats anymore.” Furthermore, he reiterated that the Justice Department had secured a grand jury indictment against Mr. Maduro in 2020 for collaborating with Colombian cocaine distributors, who occasionally funnel their product through Venezuela. He described Mr. Maduro’s regime as “an illegitimate government that openly collaborates with terrorist factions.”
‘Invasion’ in Springtime
The groundwork for a militarized strategy towards Mr. Maduro and Venezuelans was laid in February when Mr. Rubio reached an agreement with Nayib Bukele, the autocratic leader of El Salvador, at his lakeside residence: The United States would allocate nearly $5 million to deport around 300 Venezuelans accused of gang affiliations to El Salvador’s Terrorism Confinement Center, or CECOT. Shortly after meeting with Mr. Bukele, Mr. Rubio labeled eight Latin American criminal organizations as foreign terrorist groups. Tren de Aragua, a Venezuelan gang, was at the top of this list.
Mr. Miller had previously identified a legal instrument for circumventing due process: the Alien Enemies Act, an 18th-century statute that allows for immediate detention and deportations of individuals from a nation that has either invaded the U.S. or is in a state of war with it. Mr. Trump enacted an executive order in March invoking the act, under a title warning of “the invasion of the United States by Tren de Aragua.” In hindsight, this order marked a significant initial strike against Mr. Maduro, serving as the administration’s first formal characterization of a conflict with him. Despite contradicting a secret U.S. intelligence evaluation, the order asserted that Tren de Aragua was a tool of Mr. Maduro.
Many of the over 250 Venezuelan men sent to El Salvador lacked connections to Tren de Aragua or significant criminal backgrounds, and some have reported extensive torture and mistreatment at the CECOT facility. Courts soon determined that illegal immigration does not constitute the type of invasion that justifies invoking wartime deportation laws. However, Mr. Miller later indicated he might revive the use of the Alien Enemies Act if the U.S. found itself in an actual state of war with Venezuela, according to a former U.S. official.
Concurrently, Mr. Miller was assessing policies not directly linked to Venezuela, which, similar to the deportations, were rooted in the broader concept of the U.S. war on terror. He considered the idea of bombing fentanyl laboratories in Mexico. However, it became evident that Mexican authorities would not grant permission, and the administration feared jeopardizing their cooperation on drug and immigration issues. The Washington Post previously reported on Mr. Miller’s discussions regarding strikes on cartels in Mexico.
By early May, Mr. Miller’s team began requesting additional strategies for deploying force against drug cartels. White House officials and others circulated relatively more constrained concepts, such as utilizing the C.I.A. for covert strikes on stationary boats devoid of personnel. However, Mr. Miller’s team wanted to showcase the operations. Officials also contemplated destroying fake drug vessels to intimidate traffickers. Nonetheless, Mr. Miller’s aides pressed for actual operations, officials noted.
By June, a request to explore a potential maritime operation had begun circulating within the Pentagon. Initially, this request was not focused on Venezuela, but that was set to change, fueled by Mr. Trump’s long-standing interest in the country’s most valuable resource.
Showdown Over Oil
For years, Chevron has been in possession of a distinctive asset in the American corporate landscape: authorization from both the U.S. and Venezuelan governments to produce and export oil through joint ventures. This made the company a critical pawn in secret negotiations involving Mr. Trump, Mr. Maduro, and U.S. lawmakers this year, interwoven with Mr. Trump’s pivotal shift towards military action.
The situation unfolded when Cuban American lawmakers urged Mr. Trump earlier this year to terminate Chevron’s confidential license from the Biden administration. After Mr. Trump and Mr. Rubio declared in late February that they would proceed with this, Mr. Maduro suspended the acceptance of deportation flights for Venezuelans. Previously, he had consented to these flights on January 31 with Richard Grenell, a special envoy for Mr. Trump.
Chevron’s CEO, Mike Wirth, lobbied the administration for an extension of the license, engaging in several discussions with Mr. Trump in the ensuing months. The Cuban American lawmakers learned about the possibility of extending the license and threatened to withhold their support for Mr. Trump’s key legislation, referred to as “the One Big Beautiful Bill.”
During an Oval Office meeting in late May, Mr. Trump conveyed to Mr. Rubio and Mr. Miller that he needed to secure the passage of the bill. He relayed that he had been informed about the potential downsides of terminating the license, including the risk of Chinese companies seizing Chevron’s interests, according to an official. The president insisted on receiving alternatives. That was when Mr. Miller stepped in to offer assistance. He had been developing his concepts for mass deportations and maritime assaults.
Mr. Trump did not renew Chevron’s license after it lapsed on May 27. His domestic policy measure cleared Congress five weeks later.
The president convened multiple meetings at the White House to discuss a potential strike against Venezuela. In one session during early summer that included Mr. Rubio, Mr. Miller, and Mr. Grenell, Mr. Rubio posited that Mr. Maduro was indeed a drug kingpin, a notion that seemed to resonate with Mr. Trump, an official recounted. In late July, Mr. Trump changed course regarding Chevron’s license. He instructed the Treasury Department to reissue a license with adjusted terms. This decision coincided with Mr. Maduro releasing 10 American detainees in exchange for over 250 Venezuelans that the Trump administration had sent to CECOT, the Salvadoran facility. Additionally, Mr. Trump had been convinced by Mr. Wirth’s argument that Chevron served as a bulwark against China.
However, behind closed doors, Mr. Trump initiated a path towards confrontation. On July 25, he signed a confidential order directing the Pentagon to take measures against drug-trafficking organizations, initiating the targeting of Venezuelans.
Summer of Secrecy
The secret directive from Mr. Trump remained closely guarded until The New York Times disclosed its existence in early August. The two-page order included an unreported written proposal for maritime strikes. It instructed Mr. Hegseth to engage vessels in international waters transporting drugs for any of 24 Latin American “narco-terrorist” groups. The associated list included groups from Venezuela.
In prior administrations, many uniformed legal experts and operational strategists in the Pentagon would have been included in discussions concerning the directive. The National Security Council would have facilitated interagency meetings. None of that occurred.
While the military order stayed under wraps initially, the administration’s public actions indicated that Mr. Maduro was the ultimate focus of the campaign. The confidential compilation of 24 organizations included notable cartels and entities that the Trump administration had officially classified as terrorists, alongside multiple lesser-known Mexican gangs. The same day Mr. Trump signed the directive, the Treasury Department revealed sanctions against “Cartel de los Soles,” a colloquial term referencing corruption within Venezuela’s military, tagging it as a terrorist organization led by Mr. Maduro. The name featured at the end of Mr. Trump’s secret document.
On July 27, Mr. Rubio asserted that Mr. Maduro had stolen an election the previous year and was at the helm of a cartel rather than a legitimate president. A little over a week later, he and Attorney General Pam Bondi announced the doubling of a reward for information leading to Mr. Maduro’s capture, increasing it to $50 million.
Simultaneously, a Trump appointee with limited experience in national security law was drafting a Justice Department memo arguing that boat strikes would be lawful based on Mr. Trump’s wartime powers. The legal endorsement was practically ready by late July when the Senate confirmed the top two attorneys responsible for reviewing such operations — T. Elliot Gaiser, head of the Office of Legal Counsel, and Earl G. Matthews, the Pentagon’s general counsel. They were essentially presented with a finished plan.
Officials from the Office of Legal Counsel orally briefed the administration that the operation would be legal, then finalized their written justification on September 5. When attorneys from other agencies expressed concerns, they were informed there was nothing to debate because the Justice Department had already given its approval.
At the Pentagon, a small group of officials engaged in clandestine operational planning for maritime strikes. Mr. Hegseth signed an execute order that defined the operational framework for the assaults. Dated August 5 and created without input from many career Pentagon officials, it replicated language from previous directives intended for drone strikes against Al Qaeda targets in regions like rural Yemen.
It lacked vital components relevant to maritime operations — including any statement regarding the treatment of shipwreck survivors following an attack, officials indicated. During the planning stages, an assistant to Mr. Miller, Anthony Salisbury, urged the Pentagon to broaden the scope of the operations, suggesting the relaxation of standards — such as the degree of confidence military personnel would require that a target fulfills the criteria. Gen. Dan Caine, the chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, advised that the military establish targeting criteria based on lessons learned from the post-September 11 conflicts. Ms. Kelly, the White House spokesperson, claimed that the account of Mr. Salisbury’s involvement was “fabricated.”
Mr. Hegseth predominantly excluded Adm. Alvin Holsey, the head of the Southern Command, responsible for overseeing regional forces. Admiral Holsey had begun to question the plans. For several months, Mr. Hegseth had argued that the admiral wasn’t aggressively pursuing the drug-trafficking mission. Admiral Holsey unexpectedly revealed in October his intention to resign early, at the year’s end. The reasoning for his departure remains unclear.
The Pentagon also circumvented a procedure known as the Maritime Operational Threat Response, designed to solicit input from various agencies when proposing maritime actions with international ramifications, stated William D. Baumgartner, a retired Coast Guard rear admiral and attorney who managed Caribbean operations.
On September 2, when U.S. forces detected a speedboat carrying 11 individuals, Mr. Hegseth ordered an attack. Mr. Trump shared an edited video showcasing a single strike obliterating the boat.
However, after the initial missile struck, two men surfaced from the water atop the capsized vessel and waved, according to accounts from people who viewed a complete video of the assault. Frank M. Bradley, the three-star commander of the Joint Special Operations Command responsible for the attack, had rehearsed in August for scenarios involving potential survivors. He commanded additional strikes, sinking the wreckage and eliminating the initial survivors. Following that, further attacks were launched. While Mr. Rubio became the public supporter of the strikes, Mr. Miller took on the role of White House supervisor — orchestrating regular gatherings including the Pentagon and other agencies. The Guardian previously reported on his involvement.
Then on October 16, following an operation in the Caribbean Sea, military personnel observed two survivors. This time, a helicopter retrieved the men and transferred them to the USS Iwo Jima. The U.S. government subsequently repatriated them to Colombia and Ecuador. They faced no charges in their home countries.
This incident sparked a covert — and delayed — scramble within the Pentagon regarding the question of what to do with survivors. In separate discussions with the State Department, Pentagon officials even suggested sending them to CECOT, the Salvadoran institution, or arranging their repatriation or transfer to another country. Military lawyers updated the sparsely written “execute order” several times to include provisions for dealing with survivors, officials stated. Some other officials contended that these modifications reflected prior planning efforts. The amendments stipulated that the military must treat detainees in accordance with international laws.
Yet senior officials made it clear in internal discussions that the most favorable option, if survivors were spotted in the water, was to ask a nearby government to retrieve them rather than having U.S. forces undertake the task, an official noted.
The Pentagon remained tight-lipped, adhering to its standard practice regarding execute orders.
As the strikes persist, Mr. Trump, Mr. Rubio, and Mr. Miller have progressed to the next phase of their campaign against Mr. Maduro: the seizure of oil tankers to interrupt Venezuela’s revenue flow. They assert that Mr. Maduro must return oil and other resources “stolen” from the United States before they lift what Mr. Trump refers to as a blockade.
In its early weeks, this strategy has severely impacted Venezuela’s economy by crippling its oil sector. Detractors label it gunboat diplomacy or, as Mr. Maduro puts it, “a warmongering and colonialist charade.” Eric Schmitt contributed reporting from Washington.
Published: 2025-12-27 22:41:00
source: www.nytimes.com
