David Schultz, Professor of Political Science at Hamline University, USA, Visiting Lecturer at Mykolas Romeris University (MRU), and a member of the MRU LAB Justice Research Laboratory.
The decision by U.S. President Donald Trump to use force in an effort to overthrow Venezuelan President Nicolás Maduro raises serious legal and political questions. While most commentary has focused on Latin America and U.S. domestic politics, the consequences extend far beyond the Western Hemisphere. For Lithuania, the Baltic states, and Eastern Europe, this action has troubling implications for international security and the future of the rules-based international order.
At the margins of the Constitution: who authorized the use of force?
Trump’s decision to employ military force against the Venezuelan regime highlights a long-standing but increasingly acute problem: the executive branch’s tendency to expand its powers at the expense of Congress. Although the president is the commander-in-chief of the armed forces, the U.S. Constitution clearly assigns the authority to declare war, finance the military, and oversee its use to the legislative branch (Congress). In the case of Venezuela, the operation appears to have been planned in advance, while Congress was effectively sidelined. This not only weakens constitutional checks and balances but also normalizes unilateral decision-making in matters of force.
This raises serious concerns regarding compliance with the War Powers Resolution, adopted after the Vietnam War. This legislation requires mandatory consultation with Congress and limits prolonged military action without legislative approval. If the operation in Venezuela was neither unexpected nor undertaken for immediate self-defense, its legal foundation is extremely weak, while presidential powers are expanded at the expense of Congress and other constitutional oversight mechanisms.
When international law becomes inconvenient
From the perspective of international law, the intervention in Venezuela raises even more questions. The United Nations (UN) Charter prohibits the use of force against the political independence of another state, except in cases of self-defense or with authorization from the UN Security Council. Regime change through military intervention does not qualify as a lawful exception. If Nicolás Maduro was accused of serious crimes, the international system provides judicial mechanisms rather than military intervention. The International Criminal Court exists precisely to address allegations of crimes against humanity. Choosing force over law undermines the very foundations of the order that the United States helped establish after World War II. The damage inflicted on international norms may last far longer than the conflict itself.
Precedents exploited not only by allies
The Venezuelan case becomes a dangerous precedent that can be exploited not only by Washington’s partners but also by its geopolitical adversaries. Russian President Vladimir Putin’s criticism of U.S. actions sounds hypocritical, yet it provides Moscow with a convenient argument. If one great power can change regimes by force, why should another not do the same? This logic is particularly dangerous in the context of Ukraine and the broader Eastern European region, where legal arguments are often replaced by rhetoric of “security” and “historical responsibility.” Putin may claim that alleged violations against Russian-speaking populations require military responses, mirroring the logic applied by Washington in Caracas. The argument may be cynical, but precedents matter in international politics.
The Monroe Doctrine returns in the 21st century
In its 2025 National Security Strategy, the Trump administration clearly defined the Western Hemisphere as part of the U.S. sphere of influence, reviving the spirit of the 19th-century Monroe Doctrine. That doctrine warned European powers against interference in the affairs of the Americas. Such an approach signals a return to sphere-of-influence politics, where power outweighs international rules. Reviving this concept in the 21st century marks a retreat from international law toward power-based geopolitics.
The same strategic document also urges Europe to assume greater responsibility for its own security, implicitly suggesting that the principles of collective defense can no longer be taken for granted. It tacitly echoes Russia’s position that instability in Europe stems from Western European policies or even NATO itself. This is a dangerous signal for states that base their security not on size or power, but on the rule of law. Combined with the intervention in Venezuela, this approach reflects a broader rejection of collective security norms, replacing them with spheres of influence dominated by great powers.
What does sphere-of-influence politics mean for the Baltic states?
For Russia, this shift is highly advantageous. Moscow has long claimed that Ukraine belongs to its historical sphere of influence, and this claim could theoretically be extended to the Baltic states, including Lithuania. Pretexts could be framed around alleged discrimination against ethnic Russians or threats to regional stability. Under sphere-of-influence logic, such claims easily become justifications for coercion or even outright aggression.
Economic motives further intensify this threat. The United States has clearly emphasized the strategic importance of Venezuela’s oil resources. Russia could adopt a similar approach, invoking security arguments to justify economic exploitation or political control. When force becomes an acceptable tool for managing influence, international restraint quickly erodes.
The security of small states as hostages to great-power decisions
For Lithuania and other Baltic states, the Venezuelan precedent is not a theoretical issue. Our security is based on international norms that reject unilateral uses of force and sphere-of-influence logic. When adherence to these norms becomes selective, small states become particularly vulnerable. If the international system embraces the rule that power justifies action, geographical distance loses its meaning—Venezuela ceases to be distant and instead becomes a warning.