U.S. War Toys in the Caribbean. What Does It Mean for Venezuela?

Washington hasn’t officially confirmed the move, but leaks suggest a naval build-up against drug routes linked to Venezuela. Results so far: endless speculation, regional reactions and chavista paranoia

By now we can finally say it here: the United States is rolling out its high-precision toys in the Caribbean Sea, making enough noise to fire up the imagination of Venezuelans—and commentators of all kinds—around the world, regardless of how satisfying the outcome ends up being.

Through four Reuters reports written according to “sources familiar with the decision,” we are being told that the U.S. is deploying a number of military assets to the southern Caribbean and near Venezuelan waters, including Marines.

The word amphibious alone was enough to make half the world speculate whether this was the preparation for an invasion of Venezuela to topple Maduro—even though the U.S. hasn’t done anything like that in the hemisphere since its troops in Panama crossed the street to oust Manuel Noriega 35 years ago, and even though Trump has repeatedly insisted he has no appetite for foreign entanglements. Now, the word missiles has also sparked rumors of surgical strikes against chavista leaders inside Fuerte Tiuna.

But the crucial point has little to do with the sophistication or firepower of these toys sailing in or flying above the water. The United States is perfectly capable of blowing a hole in anyone’s chest—or of detecting narco-subs or cocaine-laden speedboats heading north. What really matters is understanding the actual implications of a U.S. naval deployment like this—so different from the two or three ships Washington usually keeps around the southern Caribbean—both inside Venezuela and across Latin America and the Caribbean. And with such an anxiety-inducing White House, so prone to the president’s whims, it’s also about understanding how much continuity this policy might have.

It all began to take shape on August 7 and 8, when Washington doubled the bounty on Maduro’s head and leaked to The New York Times that it would start using military force against cartels in the region. This came just days after the first anniversary of the July 28th electoral fraud, and only two weeks after the U.S. again authorized Chevron to operate in Venezuela. Then came two Reuters leaks from anonymous sources—Reuters being not a media outlet but a global news agency with the capacity to bounce information worldwide, as we explained in the most recent episode of our podcast Desde afuera.

That’s when the collective hysteria of speculation exploded. Since then we’ve seen a bombardment of news and announcements from different layers of government. Some appear to be mere rhetoric. Others are misleading. And some are linked to tangible, material stuff.

Adrián González, from Cazadores de Fake News, took the time last weekend to track where the ships are. So based on those reports from Reuters, we can count seven ships and 10,700 crew members. Three may already be in Caribbean waters, Adrián notes. Another three—the so-called amphibious group—are on their way. And the seventh could arrive next week. Submarines and maritime patrol aircraft would also join, again according to Reuters’ anonymous sources. Hard to monitor even for OSINT analysts, and fertile ground for endless speculation.

A limited alliance

So yes: this time, the Trump administration is signaling greater intent to use its military capabilities against narcotrafficking operations in the Caribbean—both cartel-run and state-run, with Venezuela as the standout case for the U.S.—and to hit drug routes heading toward North America and Europe.

Sitting next to Trump yesterday, Secretary of State Marco Rubio spoke of an “international alliance” against narcotrafficking. But so far, other countries’ support for the military initiative is limited to verbal commitments to its goals, and little more. Otherwise, it’s mostly Washington’s allies and chavismo’s rivals endorsing the recent announcements.

Ecuador and Paraguay labeled the Cartel of the Suns a terrorist organization, two countries battling serious domestic problems with narcotrafficking and high-level corruption. Argentina just did the same, with Javier Milei’s government also claiming the Cartel of the Suns is laundering money there. Our neighbor to the east, Guyana, stopped short of making such a designation—likely fearing incursions or heightened hostility over the disputed Essequibo and maritime borders. Still, Guyana voiced firm support for its “bilateral allies” in fighting transnational crime and narco-terrorism.

Trinidad and Tobago has been the most forceful of these small nations, offering its territory opposite Venezuela for U.S. use if requested.

For now, this has more to do with signaling loyalty to Washington than with a truly multilateral initiative like the old Operation Martillo in the Caribbean and Central America. Only France, with presence  in Guadeloupe and Martinique, said it was boosting coastal police forces and deploying a special drone to spot suspicious movements.

The naval deployment is heightening the climate of tension and surveillance inside chavismo.

For the opposition leadership, news of the naval deployment has been a chance to revive the narrative of imminent collapse among their followers. Both María Corina Machado and Magalli Meda stressed that they’re ready to take power once the Cartel of the Suns is dismantled. Machado told Fox News that this is not a foreign regime-change operation—because the Venezuelan people already ordered regime change on July 28th. Meda suggested the key bet is still the long-awaited, fatal split within chavismo. She spoke of the possibility that “new heroes” will emerge in the coming weeks or months, and that also thanks to them Venezuela, could live its moment of universal celebration.

But on the other hand, the naval deployment is heightening the climate of tension and surveillance inside chavismo. Our latest Political Risk Report, from last Friday, describes a pessimistic, nervous atmosphere within the state and the armed forces. The fear of being purged—and the peer-to-peer spying normalized under Maduro—has worsened with Washington’s announcements and Reuters’ leaks. In chavista digital propaganda, the mantra “doubting is treason” (dudar es traición) is repeated regularly, a slogan that resonates strongly since the post-electoral terror.

Chavista leaders are using a two-pronged discourse here. On the one hand, they play along with the anti-narcotics narrative—justifying raids and crackdowns against so-called narcos and plotters (generally linked to the likes of Machado or Simonovis), while also purging their own ranks, as we’ve seen recently.

Nerves and purges

With no warning beyond that morning’s parliamentary agenda, PSUV lawmakers stripped a chavista lawmaker off its immunity, a main tied to the Tupamaro armed colectivo in Mérida. “Human garbage” who “hopefully ends up in jail,” said Jorge Rodríguez, without offering any proof or further detail. He also disclosed the resignation of Gladys Requena, Inspector General of Courts and former chavista legislator.

Rumors still swirl that former Vice President and Foreign Minister Elías Jaua had to go into hiding days after defending chavista activist Martha Grajales. Media personality Vladimir Villegas denied Jaua is in hiding, but Jaua himself hasn’t appeared to refute the rumor. According to Caracas Chronicles’ private sources, the regime suspects these figures are leaking information to foreign governments.

The other edge of the official discourse blames countries like Colombia and the U.S. for drug trafficking, while pointing to Rubio and South Florida politicians as the main decision-makers behind the deployment—not the MAGA movement, and not Trump. The aim is to keep open the channels established in January through the intervention of Richard Grenell, which led to a three-way prisoner swap and Chevron’s private license last month.

This doesn’t mean chavismo’s messaging is consistent or monolithic, nor that Maduro & Co. aren’t looking for outside voices to ease the pressure. Part of the ruling party intelligentsia—intellectual circles with media influence—are pushing the idea that the deployment is part of a psy-op by the U.S. and the opposition. They argue those actors won’t gain more than propaganda headlines over some interdiction, even while admitting the scenario is unstable and complex. Their position: stay alert, but don’t overfeed the State and Justice Departments.

Still, from Miraflores there’s a palpable dose of fear and concern about isolation while the toys float nearby. For instance, measures like banning drone use and distribution. Then, the Foreign Ministry’s statement yesterday—quoting almost word-for-word Reuters’ latest report—appealing to the UN Secretary General and CELAC.

But if the toys in the water linger for an extended period and the U.S. truly disrupts drug-trafficking routes, the impact could be paradigm-shifting. That’s a big could.

As expected, chavista propaganda has turned its cameras toward the military high command, often alongside Maduro at events and television shows. But the focus isn’t on showcasing the revolution’s spectacular defense capabilities. The current obsession is mobilizing the Bolivarian Militia as the first defensive block against invasion. This force cannot possibly reach four million people, but it can be large enough to fulfill functions—particularly if another mass mobilization like that of July 2024 occurs. For chavismo, the key is knowing how many it can still deploy for “anti-subversive” and surveillance roles. That’s where they feel they still have agency and resources against the enemy, not by flaunting Russian weapons or Iranian-style drones.

Beyond that, Defense Minister Vladimir Padrino announced that warships will be deployed in territorial waters, as part of a “security zone” against Colombia to stop drugs and terrorism entering Venezuela from that country—yet another old chavista leitmotif.

While we wait for the deployment’s first “big achievement”, there are further signs of the administration’s interest in highlighting Venezuela as a narco-state and potential links to other countries. Pam Bondi, Trump’s attorney general, said last night there’s an air narco-route between Venezuela and Honduras, Guatemala, and Mexico—three countries with very different governments, none exactly aligned with MAGA like El Salvador. It’s easy to imagine the U.S. using the “hunt” against these countries (with their deep histories of narcos and organized crime) to demand more influence and discretion over their territory. Trump already did it with Panama, and is now doing it with Brazil under the Bolsonaro pretext.

Meanwhile, Machado’s leadership keeps playing the dangerous game of promising imminent collapse without real agency over Washington’s decisions and turns—just like with Chevron. If the toys in the water produce one or two interdictions—likely hard to audit, and with manageable impact for the criminal structures they target—Machado may not notch significant victories. Nothing beyond celebrating some announcement from SouthCom or the DEA.

But if the toys in the water linger for an extended period, and the U.S. truly disrupts drug-trafficking routes (and other businesses like mineral and human trafficking), the impact could be paradigm-shifting. And that’s a big could.

Not just for Venezuela, but for other regional governments where organized crime also feeds and co-opts political power.