Trump Threatens Colombia and Predicts Cuba’s Imminent Collapse

2026-06-21 00:02:03

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An Unprecedented Personal Attack

The attack on Colombian President Gustavo Petro is particularly virulent and personal. Trump did not hesitate to call the Colombian leader “sick,” claiming that he was leading a “very sick” country and explicitly accusing him of “manufacturing cocaine and selling it to the United States.” These serious accusations, made without any tangible evidence or legal proceedings, constitute a flagrant violation of diplomatic protocol and the norms governing relations between sovereign states. Never before has a sitting U.S. president made such direct and defamatory remarks against a democratically elected head of state in the Western Hemisphere. The tone used—a mix of personal contempt and insults—goes far beyond the bounds of political criticism and comes dangerously close to inciting military intervention.

These accusations take on an even more troubling dimension when viewed in the context of Gustavo Petro’s political trajectory. A former M-19 guerrilla who became president of Colombia in the historic 2022 election, Petro represents a first in Colombian history: a former leftist combatant ascending to the country’s highest office. His journey, marked by the transition from armed struggle to institutional politics, symbolizes the hopes for peace and reconciliation that emerged after decades of internal conflict. By attacking Petro in such a personal manner, Trump is not merely targeting an individual: he is attacking a political project—the collective aspiration of the Colombian people to overcome their violent history and build a different future. The gravity of these remarks lies in this attempt to delegitimize not only the president, but the entire democratic process that brought him to power.

What deeply revolts me about this attack on Petro is the utter contempt for Colombian democracy. The Colombian people voted overwhelmingly for Petro in a process recognized by all international observers as free and transparent. And now Trump takes the liberty of calling the elected president “sick” and a drug trafficker, as if the democratic will of more than 50 million Colombians didn’t count. It is this imperial arrogance that leaves me speechless—this conviction that Washington has the right to decide who is legitimate and who is not, regardless of the election results. When we look at Petro’s background—having spent years in the guerrilla movement before choosing the path of the ballot box and peace—we realize just how much these remarks are not only insulting, but also historically ignorant and politically irresponsible.

The Explicit Threat of Military Action

The most alarming aspect of these statements lies in Trump’s response when asked about the possibility of a U.S. military operation in Colombia. His reply—brief and deliberately ambiguous—“That sounds like a good idea”—constitutes a direct and unequivocal threat. In the context of the operation just carried out in Venezuela, these remarks take on a terrifying significance: Trump is openly suggesting that Colombia could be the next target of a U.S. military intervention. This statement is not a mere quip or rhetorical exaggeration: it comes from a president who has already demonstrated his willingness to resort to military force to achieve his political objectives, as the daring operation against Maduro in Caracas has just proven.

The implications of these remarks are far-reaching. A U.S. military intervention in Colombia—the third most populous country in Latin America and a historic U.S. ally in the region—would set a catastrophic precedent for inter-American relations and for the international system more broadly. Unlike Venezuela, Colombia is an active member of the Organization of American States, a major U.S. trading partner, and a significant recipient of U.S. military aid. Such an intervention would mean that even the closest allies are not immune to Washington’s wrath if they stray from the political line dictated by the Trump administration. This threat creates a climate of total insecurity in the region, where no government can feel safe regardless of its traditional relationship with the United States.

When I hear Trump say that a military operation in Colombia “seems like a good idea,” I shudder. We’re talking about Colombia, not some isolated rogue state. A country of 52 million people, a longtime ally, a democracy struggling with its own demons. And this curt, almost offhand response, as if he were ordering a coffee or choosing a movie for the evening. There is something deeply disturbing about the casualness with which Trump contemplates unleashing American military power on a sovereign people. It is the trivialization of war, the transformation of military intervention into just one political option among many, without regard for the human lives that would be destroyed, the communities that would be ravaged, or the chaos that would ensue. It is a vision of power that completely ignores the human and political costs of war.

Section 2: Gustavo Petro's Firm Response

A Defense of National Sovereignty

President Gustavo Petro’s response to Trump’s threats was immediate, firm, and dignified. In a series of posts on the X platform, the former social media site, Petro strongly rejected the accusations leveled against him and demanded that Trump “stop defaming him.” The Colombian president strongly emphasized that his name “has not appeared in any legal case involving drug trafficking for more than 50 years,” neither before nor during his presidential term. This direct and fact-based defense aims to debunk Trump’s baseless accusations and set the record straight regarding his personal and political history. Petro refuses to be reduced to the degrading stereotypes that Trump seeks to project onto him, and insists on the respect due to his office and to Colombian democracy.

But Petro’s response goes beyond a mere personal defense. It is part of a broader vision of national sovereignty and the dignity of Latin American nations in the face of U.S. hegemony. In his statements, Petro points out that the United States is “the first country in the world to bomb a South American capital in the entire history of humanity,” a direct reference to the complex history of U.S. interventions in the region. However, he refuses to fall into the trap of revenge or retaliatory violence. On the contrary, he calls for Latin American unity based not on hostility toward the North, but on the region’s ability to “understand, trade with, and unite with the entire world.” This constructive and visionary approach stands in stark contrast to the logic of confrontation and domination advocated by Trump.

What moves me deeply about Petro’s response is his ability to resist provocation without succumbing to hatred. Trump insults him, threatens him, and calls him a criminal, yet Petro responds with dignity, with facts, and with a vision for the future of all of Latin America. It is this broader perspective that fascinates me—this ability to refuse to be drawn into the realm of insults and threats. Petro understands that the true response to imperialism is not counter-violence, but collective building—a Latin American unity that allows the region to assert itself as an autonomous actor on the world stage. It is a lesson in politics and dignity that deserves to be heard far beyond Colombia’s borders.

The Call for Latin American Unity

Petro’s most important message lies in his urgent call for unity among Latin American nations. Faced with the threat posed by Trump’s statements, the Colombian president warns that the countries of the region risk being “treated like servants and slaves” if they do not unite to defend their collective sovereignty. This warning resonates particularly strongly in the historical context of a Latin America that has long been subject to U.S. economic and political influence, often to the detriment of its own interests. Petro does not merely denounce this dynamic; he proposes a concrete alternative—that of a region capable of “looking in all directions” and no longer just toward the north.

This vision of a sovereign and autonomous Latin America represents a direct challenge to the Monroe Doctrine and its contemporary incarnations, which Trump seeks to revive. Since the 19th century, this doctrine has served as a justification for U.S. interventionism in the Western Hemisphere, ostensibly to protect against European influences but in reality to serve U.S. interests. By envisioning a Latin America capable of diversifying its partnerships and asserting itself as an independent actor, Petro proposes a new model of inter-American relations based on equality and mutual respect rather than on domination and submission. This regional integration project is not new, but it takes on particular urgency in the face of the Trump administration’s radical challenge to the international order.

There is something powerfully evocative about Petro’s call for unity. The image of a united, strong Latin America, capable of speaking on equal terms with the world’s major powers, echoes a dream that has run through the continent’s history since Simón Bolívar. And the idea that without unity, Latin American nations risk being treated as “servants and slaves” resonates with a painful historical truth. Petro is not merely defending Colombia: he is defending a vision of Latin America, a vision of collective dignity in the face of imperial arrogance. It is this visionary dimension of his speech that strikes me as essential—this ability to transform a personal crisis into a moment of political clarity for an entire region.

Section 3: Cuba on the Brink of Collapse, According to Trump

Predictions About the Fall of the Cuban Regime

Trump’s statements on Cuba, while less directly threatening than those regarding Colombia, are nonetheless revealing of his vision for Latin American policy. According to the U.S. president, “Cuba seems poised to fall,” asserting that he does not know if the government in Havana will be able to “hold on.” This prediction of imminent collapse is based on a simplistic economic analysis: Cuba “no longer has any revenue” because it “derived all its revenue from Venezuela, from Venezuelan oil,” and “it no longer receives any.” For Trump, this supposed economic dependence automatically dooms the Cuban regime to collapse under its own weight, rendering any direct U.S. military intervention unnecessary.

This economic analysis warrants closer examination. It is true that Cuba has benefited for years from Venezuelan economic aid, particularly in the form of oil exports at preferential prices under ALBA, the Bolivarian Alliance for the Peoples of Our America. This cooperation served as a vital safety net for the Cuban economy, particularly after the collapse of the Soviet Union, which had previously supported the island. However, to claim that Cuba depended “exclusively” on Venezuela is an oversimplification that ignores the gradual diversification of the Cuban economy over the past decade. Tourism, remittances from the diaspora, foreign investment in certain sectors, and domestic economic reforms have all contributed to creating an economy more resilient than the bleak picture painted by Trump.

I am always fascinated by Trump’s tendency to reduce complex realities to simplistic equations. Cuba represents sixty years of revolution, decades of blockade, and an incredible history of resistance and adaptation—and for him, it all boils down to “they’ve run out of Venezuelan oil, so they’re going to fall.” It is this mechanistic view of the world—this conviction that economic pressures are always enough to bring governments and peoples to their knees—that strikes me as not only intellectually flawed but also politically dangerous. Cuban history is full of moments when everyone predicted the regime’s demise, yet the regime survived, transformed, and adapted. To ignore this capacity for resilience is to condemn oneself to misunderstanding the Cuban reality and to devising policies based on illusions.

The Cuban Victims of the Venezuelan Operation

A particularly grim aspect of Trump’s statements concerns the fate of the Cubans killed during the U.S. operation in Venezuela. The U.S. president mentioned that “many Cubans were killed yesterday,” adding that they were trying to protect Maduro. According to Cuban authorities, at least 32 Cuban nationals lost their lives during the U.S. raids on Caracas. These deaths, presented by Trump as an inevitable consequence of the operation, highlight the complex nature of relations between Cuba and Venezuela, as well as Cuba’s involvement in the security of the Maduro regime.

The presence of Cuban advisers and military personnel in Venezuela is no secret. For years, Havana has provided significant support to Caracas, particularly in the areas of security, intelligence, and health care. This cooperation, which dates back to the era of Hugo Chávez and Fidel Castro, has intensified over the years, making Cuba an essential strategic partner for the survival of the Venezuelan regime. The 32 Cubans killed during the U.S. operation were likely not mere observers: they were actively involved in protecting Maduro and defending the Venezuelan regime against what they perceived as foreign aggression. This complex reality, blending revolutionary solidarity and strategic interests, is completely absent from Trump’s simplistic narrative.

These thirty-two Cuban deaths haunt me. Thirty-two human beings who gave their lives to defend a government that was not their own, in a country that was not their own. What drives people to make such a sacrifice? An unshakable faith in a revolutionary ideal? A sense of duty toward a historic ally? The certainty of fighting against American imperialism? Regardless of what one thinks of Castro, Maduro, or their regimes, these thirty-two dead deserve to be recognized as human beings, not as statistics in a military press release. Trump mentions them as if they were inevitable collateral damage, and this indifference to human suffering repulses me. Every death is a tragedy; every life lost is a story cut short, and we have a duty to remember that.

Section 4: The Trump Version of the Monroe Doctrine

The Resurgence of U.S. Interventionism

Trump’s statements on Colombia, Cuba, and Venezuela are part of a broader political agenda: the revival and modernization of the Monroe Doctrine for the 21st century. This doctrine, formulated in 1823 by President James Monroe, asserted that the Western Hemisphere was the exclusive sphere of influence of the United States and that any European intervention in the Americas would be considered a hostile act. For decades, this doctrine served as a justification for U.S. interventionism in Latin America—from the overthrow of democratic governments to support for brutal dictatorships—always in the name of defending U.S. interests.

Trump has explicitly called his contemporary version of this doctrine the “Don-roe Doctrine,” a revealing pun that epitomizes this imperialist approach to the extreme. The Trump administration is not content merely to revive the old principles of the Monroe Doctrine: it is radicalizing them and adapting them to the current geopolitical context. The goal is no longer simply to prevent foreign influence in the hemisphere, but to actively impose total political and economic alignment with the United States. Left-wing governments are explicitly targeted as threats to U.S. security, while right-wing governments are encouraged and supported, even when they violate fundamental democratic principles. This approach represents a return to a form of brutal interventionism that was thought to have been consigned to history since the end of the Cold War.

When I hear Trump talk about his “Don-roe Doctrine,” I am overcome by a mixture of disbelief and terror. It is as if he were proudly claiming an imperialist legacy that has caused so much suffering in Latin America. As if he were taking pride in turning an entire continent into the United States’ backyard. There is something deeply reactionary about this vision—something that denies the right of Latin American peoples to determine their own destiny. And that play on words, “Don-roe,” is like a signature—a mark of personal appropriation of a colonialist legacy. It is Trump who is turning history into a branded product, who is appropriating an imperialist doctrine as if it were one of his skyscrapers.

The Promotion of Right-Wing Governments

The consistency of Trump’s approach becomes evident when examining how his administration treats various Latin American governments. On the one hand, left-wing governments such as Petro’s Colombia, Cuba, or Maduro’s Venezuela are explicitly threatened and destabilized. On the other hand, right-wing governments receive enthusiastic support, even when they stray from democratic norms. For example, Trump sanctioned a Brazilian judge who had overseen the proceedings against former President Jair Bolsonaro for attempted insurrection, and pardoned former Honduran President Juan Orlando Hernández of drug trafficking charges, despite overwhelming evidence against him.

Support for Javier Milei’s Argentina perfectly illustrates this selective approach. Milei, a far-right libertarian economist elected in 2023, has undertaken a radical transformation of Argentina, combining brutal economic austerity with political repression. His policies have triggered a major social crisis, with record levels of poverty and increasing repression of social movements. Yet Trump has consistently supported Milei, holding him up as a model for the region. This ideological consistency stands in stark contrast to the so-called pragmatic approach the administration claims to adopt in foreign policy. This is, in fact, an ideological crusade aimed at reshaping Latin America according to a neoliberal and authoritarian vision.

This selectivity in supporting Latin American governments leaves me speechless. Trump attacks Petro, a democratically elected president trying to reform his country, while supporting Milei, a president who implements policies that cause suffering for millions of Argentines. He pardons a Honduran president convicted of drug trafficking, while accusing Petro of being a drug trafficker without any evidence. There is no moral logic here, no consistency in the so-called democratic values the United States claims to defend. There is only the logic of power: governments that serve American interests are good; those that oppose them are bad. This is a cynical view of international politics that reduces relations between states to a mere power transaction.

Section 5: International Reactions

Unanimous Condemnation from Latin American Neighbors

The U.S. operation in Venezuela and the threats that followed sparked a wave of unanimous condemnation from Latin American governments. In a joint statement, the governments of Brazil, Chile, Colombia, Mexico, Uruguay, and Spain expressed their “deep concern” over the United States’ unilateral actions and “firmly rejected the military actions undertaken unilaterally on Venezuelan territory.” This joint statement, issued by governments on both the left and the right, attests to the extent of the concern caused by the return of U.S. interventionism in the region.

The signatories of the communiqué emphasized that these actions “violate the fundamental principles of international law, in particular the prohibition on the use or threat of force.” They also warned that these actions constitute “an extremely dangerous precedent for regional peace and security” and “endanger the civilian population.” This formal and explicit condemnation of a U.S. military operation by governments traditionally allied with Washington represents a significant break in inter-American relations. It marks the end of an era in which the United States could count on virtually automatic support from its neighbors for its military and diplomatic initiatives in the region.

This joint statement gives me a strange feeling. On the one hand, I’m relieved to see that Latin American governments are capable of uniting to condemn a flagrant violation of international law. On the other hand, I wonder what this will actually change in practice. Trump doesn’t care about statements, diplomatic condemnations, or the principles of international law. He acts, and others protest. It’s this imbalance between U.S. military power and diplomatic protests that I find so frustrating. Words are important, condemnations are necessary, but when Trump has planes, missiles, and soldiers, do words really carry any weight? It’s this asymmetry that concerns me—this sense that international law is becoming an empty shell in the face of the will to raw power.

Uncertainty About Trump’s True Intentions

Faced with this verbal and military escalation, analysts are questioning Trump’s true intentions. Will he actually carry out military operations in Colombia and Cuba, or are these threats primarily intended to intimidate and coerce the governments in question? David Smith, an associate professor at the Center for American Studies at the University of Sydney, suggests that Trump’s main objective is to “scare” other governments into complying with U.S. demands without having to resort to military force. According to this analysis, “short, spectacular displays of force” such as the raid on Caracas are intended to create a deterrent effect strong enough to make other countries do what Trump wants them to do.

However, this strategy carries considerable risks. First, it is always possible that Trump might decide to turn his threats into reality, particularly if he feels that intimidation is not working well enough. Second, even if the goal is solely to intimidate, words have consequences: they destabilize governments, create a climate of economic uncertainty, and can trigger unpredictable chain reactions. Finally, this strategy rests on the assumption that Latin American governments will give in to intimidation, which is consistent neither with the region’s history nor with the personalities of leaders like Petro, who have already proven their ability to withstand pressure. Trump’s calculated ambiguity could be either a brilliant strategy or a path to disaster.

I’m torn on the question of Trump’s intentions. On the one hand, it’s clear that he enjoys intimidation, that he loves to instill fear, and that he excels at creating a climate of insecurity. It’s part of his political style—his trademark. On the other hand, he has also shown that he is willing to use military force when he deems it necessary. The operation in Venezuela was not a bluff; it was concrete action. So where is the line? Which threats will remain verbal, and which will turn into military operations? It is this uncertainty that is terrifying. We are in a situation where any left-wing government in Latin America could wake up one morning wondering if it will be the next target. It is this systemic instability that strikes me as so dangerous.

Section 6: Geopolitical Implications

The Return of the Cold War in Latin America

Trump’s statements and the operation in Venezuela mark a troubling return to Cold War dynamics in Latin America. For decades, the continent was a battleground for indirect confrontation between the United States and the Soviet Union, with Washington supporting brutal dictatorships to prevent the spread of communism. The end of the Cold War had seemed to put an end to this dynamic, allowing for the emergence of more diverse democratic governments less subject to U.S. hegemony. Trump’s actions appear to herald the end of this interlude and a return to a logic of ideological and military confrontation.

However, the current geopolitical context is very different from that of the Cold War. Chinese influence in Latin America has grown considerably over the past two decades, with massive investments in infrastructure, trade, and technology. Russia has also reestablished closer ties with certain governments in the region, as demonstrated by its military cooperation with Venezuela. The European Union, for its part, is seeking to develop more balanced partnerships with Latin American countries. In this multipolar context, Trump’s attempt to reimpose unilateral U.S. hegemony risks encountering resistance not only from progressive governments but also from global powers that have no intention of allowing Latin America to once again become an American fiefdom.

This return to Cold War logic sends a chill down my spine. I grew up hearing stories of that era—the dictatorships backed by Washington, the disappeared, the torture, the civil wars. We thought all that was a thing of the past, that Latin America had turned the page on that bloody chapter. And now Trump is taking us back forty years, as if nothing had changed, as if the lessons of history had never been learned. But the world has changed since the Cold War. China is here, Russia is back, and Europe exists. Trump is trying to play the game of 1980 in a world of 2026, and it is this anachronism that strikes me as so dangerous. He does not understand that American hegemony is no longer what it once was, and that his attempts to reimpose it by force will come up against geopolitical realities that he superbly ignores.

The Threat to Regional Democracy

One of the most troubling consequences of this new phase of American interventionism is the threat it poses to democracy in Latin America. Military operations and direct threats against democratically elected governments like Petro’s send a devastating message: the will of the people expressed at the ballot box offers no protection against foreign intervention if the results do not please Washington. This logic undermines the very foundations of representative democracy and creates a climate in which elections lose their meaning, since they can be unilaterally annulled by a foreign power.

Even more concerning is that this dynamic risks reinforcing authoritarian tendencies in the region. If left-wing governments cannot govern without fearing U.S. intervention, they will be tempted to tighten their control over the security apparatus and restrict civil liberties to protect themselves. Similarly, right-wing governments will be able to justify human rights violations by arguing that they are necessary to prevent foreign interference. Ultimately, the entire democratic space in Latin America risks shrinking, a victim of a dynamic of polarization and confrontation fueled by U.S. interventionism. The democratic stability so hard-won over the past three decades is threatened by this return to a logic of imperial domination.

It is this danger to democracy that concerns me the most. Democracy is not just about elections; it is the certainty that election results will be respected, that the people have the final say. When Trump threatens Petro, he is essentially saying: your vote doesn’t count; your democracy does not protect your government. This is a direct attack on the very idea of democracy. And what terrifies me is that this attack can come from both sides. Left-wing governments will militarize to protect themselves; right-wing governments will take a harder line to please Washington; and caught in the middle, ordinary citizens lose their rights, their freedoms, and their voice. It is this shrinking of democratic space that strikes me as the most serious long-term threat.

Section 7: Economic Dimensions

The Issue of Venezuela’s Natural Resources

A central element of the current crisis lies in Venezuela’s natural resources, particularly its vast oil reserves. Although Washington officially presents the operation against Maduro as a crackdown on narco-terrorism, many observers and critics point out that the real objective is to take control of Venezuela’s energy resources. Trump himself let this truth slip in his statements, asserting that the United States was “in charge” of Venezuela and that he wanted to “rebuild the country, particularly its oil infrastructure.”

Venezuela’s proven oil reserves are the largest in the world, surpassing even those of Saudi Arabia. For years, these resources have been exploited primarily by the state-owned oil company PDVSA, often under inefficient and corrupt conditions, but at least ensuring some form of national control over this wealth. The U.S. intervention paves the way for U.S. oil companies to take control of these resources, as suggested by Commerce Secretary Howard Lutnick when he mentioned the possibility of reviving the steel and aluminum industries for the benefit of the United States. This economic dimension, all too often overlooked in media analyses, is nevertheless essential to understanding the true nature of U.S. intervention in Venezuela.

I cannot help but focus on this economic dimension of the crisis. Trump can talk about narco-terrorism, democracy, and human rights as much as he wants, but there is a brutal truth that shines through in each of his statements: Venezuela has oil—a lot of oil—and the United States wants it. This desire to take control of other countries’ natural resources is a story as old as imperialism itself. And what revolts me is the hypocrisy. Trump talks about “rebuilding” Venezuela, but his version of reconstruction bears a striking resemblance to a form of economic colonization. Venezuela’s resources belong to the Venezuelan people, not to American oil companies. This attempt to seize these resources by military force is outright theft.

The Impact on Regional Economies

The instability created by U.S. intervention in Venezuela and the threats against other countries in the region will have major economic consequences for all of Latin America. Colombia, in particular, risks suffering devastating effects. As Venezuela’s leading trading partner and a host country to millions of Venezuelan refugees, Colombia could see its economy disrupted by the growing unrest along its border. Trump’s direct threats against the Petro government also risk scaring off foreign investors and triggering a capital flight, exacerbating an already difficult economic situation.

More broadly, the entire region risks suffering from this instability. Political and security uncertainties discourage long-term investment, disrupt regional supply chains, and increase transaction costs for businesses. Countries that relied on exports to Venezuela or on imports of Venezuelan oil at preferential prices—such as Cuba and certain Caribbean nations—will have to restructure their economies under difficult conditions. Central America, already economically fragile, risks seeing its problems worsen as trade and migration flows are disrupted. Ultimately, it is the regional economic integration project that risks being compromised by the return of U.S. interventionism and the tensions it generates.

There is this invisible yet terribly real dimension to the crisis: its economic cost to ordinary people. Wars, interventions, and threats are not limited to political rhetoric and military operations. They translate into unemployment, inflation, poverty, and famine. Colombians who lose their jobs because investors are afraid, Cubans who suffer because they no longer have Venezuelan oil, the millions of people whose lives are made more difficult by this brutal geopolitics. That is the reality of interventionism—not the proud declarations made aboard Air Force One, but the daily suffering of millions of innocent people. And that breaks my heart.

Section 8: The Response of Civil Society

Protest movements are emerging

Faced with escalating tensions and threats of intervention, Latin American civil society is beginning to organize to defend regional sovereignty and democracy. Spontaneous protest movements have emerged in several countries, bringing together citizens from across the political spectrum around a common message: Latin America must no longer accept U.S. interference in its internal affairs. These demonstrations, though still modest in terms of turnout, represent an encouraging sign that the peoples of the region refuse to return to an era of submission to Washington’s hegemony.

Human rights movements, traditionally active in the region, have also begun to mobilize against the threat of intervention. They emphasize that foreign military operations—even when presented as humanitarian or law-and-order actions—inevitably result in massive violations of the fundamental rights of civilian populations. Past experiences of U.S. interventions in Latin America—from the Bay of Pigs in Cuba in 1961 to the interventions in Central America in the 1980s—have left deep scars in the region’s collective memory. Civil society refuses to let this dark history repeat itself.

It is these civil society movements that give me a glimmer of hope amid this darkness. Ordinary people—students, workers, mothers—who take to the streets to say, “Enough is enough.” Not to support Petro or Maduro or any particular government, but to defend their region’s right to determine its own destiny. It is this capacity for popular resistance that moves me deeply—this awareness that history is not made solely by presidents and generals, but also by ordinary citizens who refuse to accept the unacceptable. Perhaps that is the true answer to imperialism: not military counter-threats, but massive, peaceful popular resistance.

The Mobilization of the Latin American Diaspora

The Latin American diaspora in the United States—particularly the Venezuelan, Colombian, and Cuban communities—plays a complex and often contradictory role in this crisis. On the one hand, certain factions within these communities—particularly among political exiles and the urban middle classes—have welcomed the operation against Maduro and support a hard line against left-wing governments. Trump, in fact, mentioned in his statements that there are “many Cuban-Americans who will be very happy” about the possible fall of the Cuban regime.

On the other hand, significant segments of the diaspora—particularly among immigrant workers and younger generations born in the United States—express deep reservations about U.S. interventionism in their countries of origin. They acknowledge the flaws and mistakes of progressive governments but reject the idea that the “solution” should be imposed by a foreign power. This division within the diaspora reflects the broader tensions within Latin American society itself, between those who see the United States as a model to follow and those who view it as a threat to the sovereignty and dignity of their countries. The role of the diaspora in this crisis remains to be determined, but it is clear that it does not constitute a monolithic bloc, as Washington would like to believe.

I am fascinated by this complexity of the diaspora. We tend to imagine immigrant communities as united blocs with homogeneous political positions. But the reality is so much more nuanced. The Venezuelan who fled economic hardship and the Cuban who fled political repression may hold diametrically opposed views on U.S. intervention. And then there’s the generation born in the United States, which has a complex relationship with both its country of origin and its country of birth. It is this diversity of experiences and perspectives that makes the diaspora so difficult to categorize politically. Trump tries to simplify this reality by speaking of Cuban-Americans as if they were all united behind him, but this is a caricature that ignores the richness and complexity of these communities.

Section 9: The Role of the International Media

Media Coverage of the Crisis

Media coverage of the Venezuelan crisis and Trump’s threats against Colombia and Cuba varies considerably depending on the region and the media outlets’ editorial stances. In Western media—and particularly in U.S. media—the operation against Maduro is largely portrayed as a victory over narco-terrorism and a step toward restoring democracy in Venezuela. Trump’s threats against Petro are often contextualized by references to past accusations of ties to Colombian guerrilla groups, creating a narrative that implicitly justifies U.S. hostility.

In contrast, Latin American media—and particularly left-leaning outlets—adopt a radically different perspective. The operation in Venezuela is described as a flagrant violation of international law and a return to colonial interventionism. The threats against Petro are presented as an unacceptable attack on the sovereignty of a democratic nation. This polarization in media coverage reflects broader geopolitical divisions and makes it difficult to reach a common understanding of the crisis. Ordinary citizens, who rely on the media to understand the events affecting their lives, find themselves confronted with contradictory narratives that reflect the political interests of various powers rather than reality.

It is this media polarization that strikes me the most. When I read American articles about the crisis, I see one reality. When I read Latin American articles, I see a completely different reality. And it’s not simply a matter of perspective; it’s almost as if we were talking about two different events. Americans speak of a victory over narco-terrorism; Latin Americans speak of a violation of international law. Americans talk about democracy; Latin Americans talk about imperialism. How can we have a constructive debate when we don’t even agree on the basic facts? It is this fragmentation of media reality that strikes me as so dangerous to the functioning of democracy—not just in Latin America, but throughout the world.

Disinformation and Information Wars

The current crisis is accompanied by an intense information war in which the various parties seek to control the narrative of events. Social media plays a central role in this battle, enabling the rapid spread of unverified information and propaganda. Videos and images presented as evidence of atrocities committed by the Maduro regime—or, conversely, of war crimes committed by U.S. forces—circulate unverified on digital platforms. This systematic disinformation further complicates the task of citizens trying to understand the truth behind the contradictory statements.

The governments involved are also actively engaged in this information war. Washington is mobilizing its extensive communications apparatus to portray its actions as just and necessary. The governments of Petro and the Cuban regime are also using the media and social media to rally international support and denounce what they present as imperialist aggression. In this context, it becomes extremely difficult for independent observers to distinguish truth from propaganda. Trust in the media and institutions is eroding, and the public sphere is fragmenting into information bubbles where each side consumes only narratives that confirm its existing biases.

It is this erosion of the truth that terrifies me the most. In a world where anyone can publish anything, where facts are debatable, and where reality itself becomes a political battleground, how can we hope to have a rational debate? I see people sharing information that is clearly false, convinced that they are telling the truth. I see governments lying cynically, knowing that their supporters will believe them blindly. It is this loss of shared trust in objective truth that strikes me as the most profound threat to our democracies. If we cannot even agree on basic facts, how can we hope to agree on political solutions?

Section 10: Possible Future Scenarios

The Scenario of a Military Escalation

The most alarming scenario is that of a military escalation that would turn Trump’s verbal threats into concrete operations. A U.S. intervention in Colombia, while difficult to imagine given the historical ties between the two countries, is not impossible if the Trump administration decides that Petro poses too great a threat to U.S. interests in the region. Such an operation would likely take the form of a campaign of targeted airstrikes against infrastructure believed to be linked to drug trafficking, accompanied by special operations to capture or eliminate specific targets.

Intervention in Cuba could take various forms. Unlike in Colombia, the United States has a history of direct intervention in Cuba, from the Bay of Pigs invasion in 1961 to the numerous assassination attempts against Fidel Castro. A U.S. military operation against Cuba could take the form of a reinforced naval blockade, airstrikes against military infrastructure, or even a ground invasion in the worst-case scenario. However, such an intervention would be extremely costly politically and militarily, and would risk triggering a major international crisis, particularly with Russia and China, which have strategic interests in Cuba.

When I imagine this scenario of military escalation, I am overcome with dread. Colombia and Cuba are not distant, abstract countries. They are countries with cities, villages, schools, hospitals, and families. A U.S. military intervention would mean bombs falling on homes, children dying, and communities destroyed. And for what? To satisfy the ego of a U.S. president? To impose a political vision by force? It is this ease with which we view war as a normal political option that revolts me. We have become desensitized to violence, as if the lives of other peoples were not as valuable as our own. It is this dehumanization that lies at the heart of war, and that is what we must fight even before we fight the war itself.

The Scenario of a United Latin American Resistance

A more optimistic alternative scenario is that of a united Latin American resistance against U.S. interventionism. Faced with Trump’s threats, the region’s governments could decide to set aside their ideological differences to collectively defend their sovereignty. This unity could take several forms: joint diplomatic statements, economic sanctions against U.S. companies, refusal to cooperate with U.S. military operations, or even mutual military assistance in the event of an attack on one of its members.

The success of such a scenario would depend on the ability of Latin American governments to overcome their historical divisions and develop genuine regional integration. Existing organizations such as UNASUR (Union of South American Nations) or CELAC (Community of Latin American and Caribbean States) could play a central role in this coordinated resistance. However, these organizations have shown their limitations in the past, particularly in the face of ideological differences between left-wing and right-wing governments. The challenge would be to develop a conception of regional sovereignty that transcends these divisions and can serve as the basis for effective resistance against U.S. hegemony.

It is this scenario of Latin American unity that I find somewhat inspiring. Imagine for a moment that the region’s governments manage to reach an agreement, to collectively say “no” to U.S. interference, and to jointly defend their right to self-determination. It would be a historic moment, a tipping point in inter-American relations. For the first time in centuries, Latin America would exist as a collective power, capable of speaking on equal terms with the United States and the other major world powers. Of course, this is an optimistic scenario—perhaps even unrealistic. But it is this possibility, this dream of a free and united Latin America, that gives me hope in the midst of this darkness.

Section 11: Lessons from History

Historical Precedents for U.S. Intervention

The history of Latin America is littered with examples of U.S. interventions that have left lasting scars on the region. From the invasion of Mexico in 1846–1848, which cost that country half its territory, to the numerous interventions in Central America in the early 20th century, to support for military coups against democratically elected governments—such as that of Jacob Árbenz in Guatemala in 1954, Salvador Allende’s government in Chile in 1973, or Juan Bosch’s government in the Dominican Republic in 1963, Washington has long regarded Latin America as its private domain.

Each of these interventions was justified by shifting rhetoric: defense against communism during the Cold War, protection of American citizens, the fight against drug trafficking, or the promotion of democracy. But the result has always been the same: the violation of national sovereignty, the installation of governments compliant with U.S. interests, and often decades of repression and instability. The collective memories of these interventions remain vivid in the region, fueling a deep mistrust of U.S. motives and partly explaining the current resistance to Trump’s new threats.

It is this historical memory that strikes me most in this crisis. When Petro speaks of the first time a country bombed a South American capital, he is not merely referring to a historical fact; he is speaking of a collective memory, of a pain passed down from generation to generation. Latin Americans have not forgotten. They remember the dictatorships supported by Washington, the disappeared, the torture, the shattered lives. And this memory fuels their resistance today. Trump may think his threats are new, that he is creating something original, but in reality he is reawakening historical ghosts—ancient pains that have never truly healed. It is this historical dimension of the crisis that I believe is essential to understanding the depth of the reactions it provokes.

Parallels with Other Periods of Crisis

The current crisis bears striking parallels to other periods of major tension in inter-American relations. Trump’s mention of annexing Greenland evokes the territorial expansionism of the 19th century, while his threats against left-wing governments recall the Cold War era and its logic of ideological confrontation. However, there are also significant differences: unlike in previous periods, today’s Latin America is more economically integrated, more democratic, and more connected to the rest of the world through diverse partnerships.

The lessons from these earlier periods are clear, however: U.S. interventionism does not create stability; on the contrary, it generates new forms of instability and resistance. Governments installed through U.S. interventions have often proven to be corrupt, ineffective, and unpopular, invariably leading to new crises. Similarly, the logic of ideological confrontation has prevented the development of inter-American relations based on mutual respect and mutual benefit. If the region wants to avoid repeating the mistakes of the past, it must develop a different approach, based on dialogue and cooperation rather than confrontation and domination.

I like to believe that we can learn from history, that the lessons of the past can guide us toward a better future. But when I see Trump repeating the same interventionist patterns as his predecessors, I wonder if we’ve really learned anything at all. The same justifications, the same methods, the same illusions that force can solve complex political problems. It is this repetition that discourages me—this feeling that we are doomed to relive the same mistakes over and over again. But perhaps this time will be different. Perhaps today’s Latin America—stronger, more united, and more aware of its own worth—will be able to break this historical cycle and chart a new course.

Conclusion: Latin America at a Crossroads

The Urgency of a Collective Response

Latin America is at a critical juncture in its history. Trump’s threats against Colombia, Cuba, and Venezuela pose an unprecedented challenge to regional sovereignty and democracy. The response to this challenge will determine the continent’s future for decades to come. In the face of escalating U.S. interventionism, Latin American governments must develop a collective and coordinated response that transcends ideological divisions and immediate national interests.

This response must take several forms. On the diplomatic front, the region must speak with one voice to denounce violations of international law and demand respect for national sovereignty. On the economic front, Latin American countries must diversify their partnerships and reduce their economic dependence on the United States. Politically, governments on both the left and the right must find common ground to defend the fundamental principles of democracy and self-determination. Unity does not mean ideological uniformity, but rather the recognition of a shared interest in preserving the region’s ability to determine its own destiny.

I am convinced that this is a decisive moment for Latin America. Trump has opened a Pandora’s box with his threats and intervention in Venezuela, and now it is up to the peoples and governments of Latin America to decide how to respond. Will they give in to fear and division? Or will they find in this crisis an opportunity to come together, to unite, and to reaffirm themselves as a collective force capable of defending their dignity? I want to believe in the second option. I want to believe that this crisis, as bleak as it may be, can serve as a catalyst for a new era of Latin American unity. But this unity will not be easy to achieve. It will require courage, vision, and the ability to overcome old divisions. It will require the region’s leaders to rise to the occasion of this historic moment.

Hope for a Different Future

Beyond the immediate crisis, Latin America has the opportunity to reimagine its future and its place in the world. The return of U.S. interventionism, while threatening, can also serve as a catalyst for a profound transformation of inter-American relations and the continent’s place in the world order. Rather than remaining in a relationship of dependence and subservience to Washington, Latin America can develop more balanced partnerships with other global powers such as China, the European Union, India, or African countries.

This diversification of partnerships would enable the region to develop genuine strategic autonomy and no longer be viewed as the exclusive “backyard” of the United States. It would also open up new economic, technological, and cultural opportunities that would directly benefit the region’s populations. Most importantly, it would enable Latin America to assert itself as a unique actor in world affairs, capable of proposing alternative solutions to global challenges and contributing to the construction of a more multipolar and balanced international order.

When I look to the future, I refuse to let myself be overwhelmed by pessimism. Yes, the situation is serious, the threats are real, and the dangers are immense. But history also teaches us that crises can be moments of transformation and rebirth. Latin America has survived trials far worse than this one, and it has always emerged transformed—often stronger. Perhaps this crisis will be the one in which the region finally ceases to define itself in relation to the United States, and instead finds its own voice, its own path, and its own place in the world. I want to believe that this dream is possible, that the peoples of Latin America have the strength and wisdom to transform this moment of threat into an opportunity for collective rebirth.

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