Pentagon Power Shake-Up: Trump Forces Out Top Commander in Caribbean Crisis

Paul Riverbank, 12/13/2025Amid rising U.S. military assertiveness in the Caribbean, Admiral Holsey’s abrupt exit from Southern Command signals deep internal tensions and mounting uncertainty in Washington—raising fresh questions about the balance between force, legality, and America’s credibility in its own hemisphere.

Holsey didn’t come to rail or protest. He stuck to the playbook in his speech, talking about “partners who value democracy, rule of law, and human rights.” If that message sounded clipped or indirect, well, it wasn’t lost on those in the audience or anyone following events on Capitol Hill. He seemed to be reaching not just across the Caribbean, but into the halls of Congress itself.

Officially, Holsey’s departure was voluntary. Unofficially, speculation has bloomed like night-blooming jasmine—a scent you can’t quite escape in Doral. Nobody quite expects a sitting commander abroad, just one year into the post, to bow out unless something’s amiss. Particularly now: A series of U.S. military operations off the Venezuelan coast has left bodies in its wake and lawmakers bristling with concern.

It’s not that the region is new to American armadas. But the tempo shifted sharply the past few months, with the Coast Guard seizing tankers near Venezuela (an unprecedented step under fresh U.S. sanctions), and a spike in strikes—maritime and aerial—on suspected drug traffickers. Headlines have spelled out the cost: nearly ninety dead, many of them in the crosshairs of these operations. One can almost hear the collective intake of breath among lawmakers reading classified reports for the first time.

Among those speaking out, Rep. Jason Crow—a Democrat, combat veteran, and, notably, no stranger to gray-zone conflict—went on national television to warn, “This is exactly how conflicts escalate.” In a rare display of bipartisanship, both Republicans and Democrats have pressed the administration for a clearer accounting of what, exactly, is being authorized in these waters. Crow’s words, clipped as they were, resonate: “This is how wars start and escalate, which is why I’m so worried about it.”

Part of the sharp uptick in activity tracks to new rhetoric out of Washington. The administration has, with little fanfare, recast certain Latin American groups as “foreign terrorist organizations.” That’s not a cosmetic label—it triggers authorities originally set aside after 9/11, letting U.S. forces operate under expanded rules. Suddenly, the region sees not just cat-and-mouse chases or Coast Guard cutters, but warships, helicopters, and—most striking—an aircraft carrier group. That’s hardware you’d expect off the coast of somewhere else.

Previously, suspected traffickers were routinely apprehended, fingerprinted, then flown to American courtrooms. Not so much now. The shift to more forceful strikes—sometimes deadly—has human rights groups and law professors stepping up, warning of a slide toward extrajudicial killings. Their argument sharpened after a second strike reportedly targeted survivors of a prior attack on the high seas. Predictably, the Pentagon finds itself defending both the morality and legality of these missions.

So why did Holsey really leave? The story keeps shifting, depending on who you ask. Three U.S. officials, according to Reuters, point to the new Secretary of Defense, Pete Hegseth, as the architect of Holsey’s ouster. They hint at friction: Holsey, some believe, wasn’t completely sold on the White House’s appetite for hardball naval tactics just miles from Venezuelan shorelines. In closed-door sessions, Holsey insisted the decision to step down was personal—though the timing, it must be said, works against him.

His exit isn’t an isolated tremor either. Military leadership is in flux: General Charles Brown, recently ousted from the Joint Chiefs, left many at the Pentagon and on Capitol Hill grasping for an explanation. Admiral Lisa Franchetti’s tenure as Navy chief—which made headlines as a first for women in the service—proved equally short-lived.

Air Force Lieutenant General Evan Pettus is now holding the reins at Southern Command, for the moment. But all indications are that President Trump will soon nominate Lieutenant General Frank Donovan, a pick widely reported but not yet officially rolled out.

Of course, all of this is unfolding against a backdrop of shifting doctrine in Washington. The Trump administration has revived talk of the Monroe Doctrine, that 19th-century idea of American hegemony in the hemisphere. Recent investments—a jungle warfare school in Panama, naval surges in the Caribbean—fit squarely into this worldview. In Venezuela, President Maduro denounces Washington’s alleged designs on his country’s oil, warnings that would seem paranoid if they weren’t echoed by the region’s suspicious mood, even as White House officials deny any intent to topple his government.

Legal and ethical lines have begun to blur. The Pentagon’s own legal guidelines prohibit attacks on people “out of the fight”—including, it should be said, shipwreck survivors. Yet in September, a U.S. attack on a disabled boat unleashed a new round of scrutiny. The aftermath brought rarely aired doubts into the open. What, exactly, are the rules for modern American military operations so close to home?

As Holsey packed his things and prepared to leave, his remarks lingered in the air: “To be a trusted partner, we must be credible, present and engaged.” That sentiment hangs over more than just a room of officers in Florida—it holds resonance for Congress, for the Caribbean, and perhaps for anyone interested in where American power goes next. With ships on the water and new faces in command, perfect clarity is still waiting just beyond the horizon.

There are days at Southern Command’s headquarters near Miami when the mood says more than press releases ever could. One afternoon in early summer, Admiral Alvin Holsey stepped down as commander—not in the usual flurry of rank and ceremony, but in a subdued room, surrounded by his staff and the weight of questions nobody wanted answered out loud.Holsey didn’t come to rail or protest. He stuck to the playbook in his speech, talking about “partners who value democracy, rule of law, and human rights.” If that message sounded clipped or indirect, well, it wasn’t lost on those in the audience or anyone following events on Capitol Hill. He seemed to be reaching not just across the Caribbean, but into the halls of Congress itself.Officially, Holsey’s departure was voluntary. Unofficially, speculation has bloomed like night-blooming jasmine—a scent you can’t quite escape in Doral. Nobody quite expects a sitting commander abroad, just one year into the post, to bow out unless something’s amiss. Particularly now: A series of U.S. military operations off the Venezuelan coast has left bodies in its wake and lawmakers bristling with concern.It’s not that the region is new to American armadas. But the tempo shifted sharply the past few months, with the Coast Guard seizing tankers near Venezuela (an unprecedented step under fresh U.S. sanctions), and a spike in strikes—maritime and aerial—on suspected drug traffickers. Headlines have spelled out the cost: nearly ninety dead, many of them in the crosshairs of these operations. One can almost hear the collective intake of breath among lawmakers reading classified reports for the first time.Among those speaking out, Rep. Jason Crow—a Democrat, combat veteran, and, notably, no stranger to gray-zone conflict—went on national television to warn, “This is exactly how conflicts escalate.” In a rare display of bipartisanship, both Republicans and Democrats have pressed the administration for a clearer accounting of what, exactly, is being authorized in these waters. Crow’s words, clipped as they were, resonate: “This is how wars start and escalate, which is why I’m so worried about it.”Part of the sharp uptick in activity tracks to new rhetoric out of Washington. The administration has, with little fanfare, recast certain Latin American groups as “foreign terrorist organizations.” That’s not a cosmetic label—it triggers authorities originally set aside after 9/11, letting U.S. forces operate under expanded rules. Suddenly, the region sees not just cat-and-mouse chases or Coast Guard cutters, but warships, helicopters, and—most striking—an aircraft carrier group. That’s hardware you’d expect off the coast of somewhere else.Previously, suspected traffickers were routinely apprehended, fingerprinted, then flown to American courtrooms. Not so much now. The shift to more forceful strikes—sometimes deadly—has human rights groups and law professors stepping up, warning of a slide toward extrajudicial killings. Their argument sharpened after a second strike reportedly targeted survivors of a prior attack on the high seas. Predictably, the Pentagon finds itself defending both the morality and legality of these missions.So why did Holsey really leave? The story keeps shifting, depending on who you ask. Three U.S. officials, according to Reuters, point to the new Secretary of Defense, Pete Hegseth, as the architect of Holsey’s ouster. They hint at friction: Holsey, some believe, wasn’t completely sold on the White House’s appetite for hardball naval tactics just miles from Venezuelan shorelines. In closed-door sessions, Holsey insisted the decision to step down was personal—though the timing, it must be said, works against him.His exit isn’t an isolated tremor either. Military leadership is in flux: General Charles Brown, recently ousted from the Joint Chiefs, left many at the Pentagon and on Capitol Hill grasping for an explanation. Admiral Lisa Franchetti’s tenure as Navy chief—which made headlines as a first for women in the service—proved equally short-lived.Air Force Lieutenant General Evan Pettus is now holding the reins at Southern Command, for the moment. But all indications are that President Trump will soon nominate Lieutenant General Frank Donovan, a pick widely reported but not yet officially rolled out.Of course, all of this is unfolding against a backdrop of shifting doctrine in Washington. The Trump administration has revived talk of the Monroe Doctrine, that 19th-century idea of American hegemony in the hemisphere. Recent investments—a jungle warfare school in Panama, naval surges in the Caribbean—fit squarely into this worldview. In Venezuela, President Maduro denounces Washington’s alleged designs on his country’s oil, warnings that would seem paranoid if they weren’t echoed by the region’s suspicious mood, even as White House officials deny any intent to topple his government.Legal and ethical lines have begun to blur. The Pentagon’s own legal guidelines prohibit attacks on people “out of the fight”—including, it should be said, shipwreck survivors. Yet in September, a U.S. attack on a disabled boat unleashed a new round of scrutiny. The aftermath brought rarely aired doubts into the open. What, exactly, are the rules for modern American military operations so close to home?As Holsey packed his things and prepared to leave, his remarks lingered in the air: “To be a trusted partner, we must be credible, present and engaged.” That sentiment hangs over more than just a room of officers in Florida—it holds resonance for Congress, for the Caribbean, and perhaps for anyone interested in where American power goes next. With ships on the water and new faces in command, perfect clarity is still waiting just beyond the horizon.