Operation Absolute Resolve and the Death of the Moral High Ground
How America Just Became What It Has Always (…Okay Maybe Not Always) Condemned
By Gabriel Vincent Tese, Esq.
In the early morning hours of January 3, 2026, Delta Force operators seized Nicolás Maduro from a fortified compound in Caracas while American aircraft struck targets across northern Venezuela. Hours later, President Trump announced that the United States would temporarily "run" the country. Congress was not consulted. The Security Council was not notified. No armed attack on American soil preceded the invasion. The legal term for what happened is unambiguous: an act of aggression against a foreign sovereign state.
I write this not as someone sympathetic to Maduro. He is a corrupt authoritarian who rigged an election and impoverished his own people. His narco-terrorism indictment in the Southern District of New York is probably legitimate. But the question of whether Maduro deserved to be removed is entirely separate from whether the President of the United States possesses the unilateral authority to invade sovereign nations, capture their leaders, and announce American administration of their governments. He does not. This is not my opinion. This is fact. The Constitution says so. The treaties we signed say so. And the precedent this sets places Donald Trump not in the company of American presidents constrained by law, but among the authoritarian strongmen he has been accused of admiring.
The United States remains a party to the United Nations Charter. We signed it in San Francisco in 1945. We ratified it. We are a permanent member of the Security Council. Article 2(4) of that Charter states: "All Members shall refrain in their international relations from the threat or use of force against the territorial integrity or political independence of any state, or in any other manner inconsistent with the Purposes of the United Nations." This is not ambiguous language. The International Court of Justice has called it "the cornerstone" of the international legal order. It permits only two exceptions: self-defense under Article 51 following an armed attack, and authorization by the Security Council under Chapter VII. Venezuela launched no armed attack on the United States. The Security Council authorized nothing. What happened on January 3rd violates the most fundamental prohibition in international law.
The United States is also a founding member of the Organization of American States. We signed the OAS Charter in Bogotá in 1948. We remain a member. Article 19 of that Charter states: "No State or group of States has the right to intervene, directly or indirectly, for any reason whatever, in the internal or external affairs of any other State. The foregoing principle prohibits not only armed force but also any other form of interference or attempted threat against the personality of the State or against its political, economic, and cultural elements." Article 21 adds: "The territory of a State is inviolable; it may not be the object, even temporarily, of military occupation or of other measures of force taken by another State, directly or indirectly, on any grounds whatever."
For any reason whatever. On any grounds whatever. The drafters of the OAS Charter were not subtle. They had witnessed a century of American intervention in Latin America and wanted no ambiguity about what member states could not do. We signed that charter. We remain bound by it. What President Trump ordered violates every word of it.
The International Court of Justice addressed precisely this scenario in Nicaragua v. United States (1986). The Court held that the United States violated international law by supporting the Contras in their rebellion against the Sandinistas and by mining Nicaragua's harbors. The Court found the U.S. "in breach of its obligations under customary international law not to use force against another State, not to intervene in its affairs, not to violate its sovereignty." The Reagan Administration's justification then was the same as the Trump Administration's justification now: the target government was aligned with our adversaries and engaged in conduct we found objectionable. The Court rejected that justification completely. Drug trafficking allegations, even if entirely accurate, fall far below the threshold the Court established for self-defense under Article 51. Criminal indictments do not authorize military invasion. If they did, any president could manufacture legal authority for war simply by instructing the Justice Department to issue indictments.
Under domestic law, the analysis is equally clear. The War Powers Resolution of 1973 provides at 50 U.S.C. § 1541(c) that the President's constitutional powers as Commander-in-Chief may be exercised to introduce armed forces into hostilities "only pursuant to (1) a declaration of war, (2) specific statutory authorization, or (3) a national emergency created by attack upon the United States, its territories or possessions, or its armed forces." Congress has declared no war against Venezuela. Congress has provided no statutory authorization. Venezuela has launched no attack upon the United States.
Section 3 of the Resolution, codified at 50 U.S.C. § 1542, requires the President to consult with Congress "in every possible instance" before introducing armed forces into hostilities. The White House briefed congressional leadership only after the operation. "We got no notice at all from the White House or from anyone," said Representative Joaquin Castro, ranking member of the House Foreign Affairs Subcommittee on the Western Hemisphere. When Secretary Rubio told the press that "this is not the kind of mission that you can do congressional notification on," he articulated a view that treats the Constitution and federal law as optional suggestions rather than binding requirements.
The difference between what happened in Venezuela and lawful military action is the difference between an Authorization for Use of Military Force and its absence. After September 11, 2001, Congress passed the 2001 AUMF authorizing the President to use "all necessary and appropriate force against those nations, organizations, or persons he determines planned, authorized, committed, or aided the terrorist attacks." That authorization, however broad, was specific to a triggering event and a defined enemy. It has been stretched beyond recognition over two decades, but it at least represents congressional involvement in war-making. The Venezuela operation has no such authorization. It has no congressional involvement whatsoever. The administration's position is that the President can wage war anywhere, at any time, against anyone under indictment, without consulting the branch of government that the Constitution vests with the power to declare war.
The Venezuela operation fits a troubling historical pattern that we as Americans should be honest about. In December 1989, President George H.W. Bush ordered the invasion of Panama to capture Manuel Noriega on drug trafficking charges. Sound familiar? Operation Just Cause, as it was called, occurred without congressional authorization. The UN General Assembly voted 75 to 20 to "strongly deplore" it as "a flagrant violation of international law." The OAS condemned it 20 to 1. A Security Council resolution condemning it failed only because the United States, the United Kingdom, and France vetoed it. We captured Noriega. We declared victory. And we established the precedent that American presidents could invade sovereign nations to arrest foreign leaders on criminal charges. The Trump administration is now citing that precedent. The circle has closed.
In October 1983, President Reagan ordered the invasion of Grenada without congressional authorization. The UN General Assembly voted 108 to 9 calling it "a flagrant violation of international law." Seven Democratic congressmen introduced articles of impeachment. Future Secretary of State Lawrence Eagleburger later admitted that protecting American students was a "pretext" to overthrow the government. In 1965, President Johnson sent 22,000 troops to the Dominican Republic based on fabricated claims about communists beheading innocent people. Senator Fulbright publicly denounced the administration's "lack of candor and misinformation." Guatemala 1954. Cuba 1961. Chile 1973. The pattern is consistent: no congressional authorization, immediate international condemnation, legal violations of both UN and OAS Charters, and justifications that contemporaries and historians have deemed pretextual.
But even within this troubling history, Operation Absolute Resolve stands apart. Never before has the United States openly invaded a sovereign nation, captured its sitting head of state through military force, and announced that we would administer the country until we deemed it appropriate to leave. "We're going to run the country," President Trump said. "Until such time as we can do a safe, proper and judicious transition." This is not the language of law enforcement. This is the language of an empire.
Yes, in Iraq, Grenada and Panama the United States removed governments; but in Venezuela it has asserted the right to seize and administer a sovereign state without war, without congressional authorization, and without limit. And make no mistake, it's no coincidence that Venezuela also happens to sit atop the largest proven oil reserves in the world. The administration insists this is about narcotics enforcement. We were told something similar in 2003, when Iraq was invaded over weapons that did not exist. Then, as now, the justification was urgent, absolute, and wrong. But this time it represents a fundamental shift. This is not American Interventionism in the traditional sense. For an administration desperate to reduce prices, it is the calculated seizure of a foreign sovereign state's crude oil reserves. The number one driver of global commodity prices.
When Vladimir Putin annexed Crimea in 2014, the United States led international condemnation. The UN General Assembly voted 100 to 11 declaring the referendum invalid and affirming Ukraine's territorial integrity. We imposed sanctions. We called it illegal under the UN Charter and the Budapest Memorandum. When Russia invaded Ukraine in February 2022, the General Assembly voted 141 to 5 condemning Russian aggression. The International Court of Justice ordered Russia to immediately suspend military operations. We were right to condemn those actions. They were illegal under international law. The prohibition on the use of force against territorial integrity applies to Russia. It also applies to us.
When Leonid Brezhnev articulated the doctrine that socialist countries could intervene in other socialist countries to safeguard the socialist revolution, we called it incompatible with sovereignty and the UN Charter. When the Soviet Union invaded Hungary in 1956 and Czechoslovakia in 1968, we led the condemnation. When the Soviets invaded Afghanistan in 1979, the General Assembly vote of 104 to 18 condemning the actions of the Soviets represented the international consensus that the U.S. agreed with at the time.
These comparisons are not rhetorical. They are structural. In each case: unilateral military action against a sovereign state without Security Council authorization. Claims of protecting threatened populations or enforcing legitimate interests. International condemnation as violations of the UN Charter. Rejection of international legal constraints as inapplicable to the intervening power's special circumstances. When Russia invades neighbors claiming protection of ethnic Russians, we call it illegal aggression. When the United States invades Venezuela claiming drug enforcement, Russia calls it illegal aggression. Both are correct about the other's violations. The difference is that we have historically claimed the moral high ground. This time it feels different. It feels like we are openly substituting power for legitimacy.
Representative Don Bacon, a Republican, articulated the precedent concern directly: "My main concern now is that Russia will use this to justify their illegal and barbaric military actions against Ukraine, or China to justify an invasion of Taiwan." Senator Mark Warner posed the question more starkly: "If the United States asserts the right to use military force to invade and capture foreign leaders it accuses of criminal conduct, what prevents China from claiming the same authority over Taiwan's leadership?" The answer, of course, is nothing. We have surrendered the principled argument. All that remains is the argument from power.
The Constitution grants Congress, not the President, the power to declare war and make "rules concerning captures on land and water." The Framers were explicit about why. They had witnessed the wars of European monarchs launched on executive whim. They wanted no part of it. As James Madison wrote, "The constitution supposes what the history of all Governments demonstrates, that the Executive is the branch of power most interested in war, and most prone to it. It has accordingly with studied care vested the question of war in the Legislature."
Vice President Vance argued on social media that congressional authorization was unnecessary because "Maduro has multiple indictments in the United States for narcoterrorism. You don't get to avoid justice for drug trafficking in the United States because you live in a palace in Caracas." The argument shreds separation of powers entirely. The executive branch issues indictments. If the existence of those indictments also authorizes military strikes, then congressional involvement in war-making becomes permanently optional. The President can simply instruct the Justice Department to indict foreign leaders, then dispatch the military to execute arrest warrants. If that sounds like the conduct of an authoritarian rather than a constitutional executive, it is because that is precisely what it is.
When administration officials themselves stated in November and December 2025 that land strikes in Venezuela would require Congress because that would amount to war, they articulated the correct legal standard. White House Chief of Staff Susie Wiles said it. Secretary Rubio implied it. Two months later, the administration executed exactly what they said required authorization they did not have.
I have spent my career believing in the rule of law. My Grandfather was a lawyer, my Aunt and Uncle are lawyers. I spent a career in the Army because I believed in what this country represents. I believed that we hold ourselves to a higher standard than authoritarian regimes. I believed that the law of armed conflict and the constitutional limits on executive war-making exist precisely for moments when the temptation to act unilaterally is strongest, and that in those moments, the law requires restraint. Those beliefs feel naive today.
What President Trump ordered in Venezuela is not a close legal question. Article 2(4) of the UN Charter prohibits it. Articles 19 and 21 of the OAS Charter prohibit it. The ICJ's Nicaragua decision addressed and rejected the precise justifications offered. The War Powers Resolution requires congressional consultation that did not occur. The Constitution vests war-making authority in Congress, not the President. The administration's own officials acknowledged, weeks before the operation, that it would require congressional authorization. This is not legal ambiguity. This is lawlessness dressed in the language of national security.
History will record whether American constitutional governance constrained this assertion of executive power, or whether the precedent stood. The question is not whether Maduro was a good leader deserving of support. He was not. The question is whether American presidents can wage war without congressional approval, and whether international law constrains American power at all. The Trump administration has answered both questions in the negative. Congress and the courts must now determine whether that answer stands, or whether we remain a nation of laws rather than of men who believe themselves above them.
In 1795, James Madison warned that "of all the enemies to public liberty war is, perhaps, the most to be dreaded, because it comprises and develops the germ of every other. War is the parent of armies; from these proceed debts and taxes; and armies, and debts, and taxes are the known instruments for bringing the many under the domination of the few. In war, too, the discretionary power of the Executive is extended." Madison understood, as the Framers understood, that unchecked war-making authority concentrates power in exactly the hands least suited to wield it wisely.
What happened on January 3rd is not a legal ambiguity requiring careful parsing. It is the precise accumulation of war powers in executive hands that the Constitution was designed to prevent. If Congress does not reassert its authority, and if the courts do not enforce the limits the law imposes, then we will have confirmed what critics have long suspected: that American commitment to the rule of law extends only so far as it remains convenient. We will have become what we have always (...well almost always) condemned. We'll have lost the moral high ground, but at least we'll have lower grocery prices.
Gabriel Vincent Tese is a Member of the Law Firm Spector Gadon Rosen Vinci, and a retired Army Intelligence Officer and Judge Advocate, who served in the Active and Reserve Components of the U.S. Army from 1999 to 2021. The views expressed here are his own.