Trump Team Seizes Maduro: America First Doctrine Shakes Up The Hemisphere

Paul Riverbank, 1/9/2026Trump’s team ousts Maduro in a covert raid, igniting debate over secrecy and U.S. foreign policy.

Vance, looking less harried than many expected, faced the crowd and brushed it aside. “That’s false,” he said, pausing long enough for the line to land. “And another that Tulsi was kept out… that’s completely false. Look, we’re all part of the same team.” The words weren’t showy—almost weary, maybe—but he didn’t hedge on the point. He added, almost offhand, that the plan had required near-perfect secrecy, and in his view, that spoke well of the team’s discipline. “My role is whatever the president asks me to do,” he clarified, a quiet jab perhaps at those who suggest his hands are tied. Apparently, Vance has been in the thick of the planning meetings all along—or so he’d have us believe.

Still, those insistent undercurrents had already seeped out. Bloomberg lit a match with its report that “DNI” in some White House circles had become code for “Do Not Invite.” A clever dig, had it been true, but one official swatted at the rumor, saying the joke didn’t even exist. Funny, though—sometimes a catchy little phrase like that, once it finds its way into Beltway banter, is nearly impossible to stamp out.

But even for the most cynical observers, the outcome in Caracas was impossible to ignore. U.S. Special Ops moved with startling speed, hustling Maduro and his wife Cilia Flores into custody. The federal charges list reads like something out of a movie: narco-terrorism, intent to smuggle cocaine, and a handful of related conspiracies. Conservative commentators wasted no time drawing contrasts with recent years. “Nice to have a leader and an administration back in the White House who understand that America’s security must come first,” one outlet crowed.

For Washington, though, the shock waves weren’t contained to Venezuela. Secretary of State Marco Rubio, never one to mince words when the cameras are rolling, used the moment to draw a bigger circle around U.S. policy. He took aim at Iran and Hezbollah’s operations in the region: “The Trump administration will no longer tolerate Hezbollah’s foothold in the Western Hemisphere.” For Rubio, Venezuela was no mere footnote—it was, as he put it, a “former hub for terror.” Behind his clipped delivery, the subtext was clear: Washington sent a message, and it wanted everyone listening.

Predictably, this tough line stoked political flashpoints elsewhere. In Manhattan, arguments over antisemitism and foreign policy grew even more contentious. On Wall Street, traders braced themselves as the Venezuelan oil story collided with energy markets. Senator Elizabeth Warren, never allergic to a fight, accused oil execs of being looped into “Trump’s secret plan” well ahead of the American public. “NOW,” she posted online, in all-caps, angling for urgent hearings and the always-elusive transparency.

Warren’s detractors were swift to pounce. Her critics called her latest volley political theater, and Representative Tim Burchett dismissed her comments with a curt “mic drop” on social media. Yet for all the sniping, few doubted the real stakes—not for Venezuela, forced to steady itself overnight, nor for U.S. officials left to manage the fallout with a brand new post-Maduro regime, balancing public reassurance with the constant, private pull of fragility that marks power transitions in troubled capitals.

And here’s something you won’t find in neat columns of talking points: In the hours and days since the raid, the Trump White House has been scrambling—not just to maintain order abroad, but also to keep the lid on rumor-mongering at home. The silent choreography of such an operation requires absolute trust up top; but quiet doesn’t always equal calm. As the vice president said while glancing at the assembled press, “I’m very proud” of how it went down. You could read that any number of ways—pride in results, pride in process, or just a plain relief that the doubts hadn’t yet cracked into open dysfunction.

Washington can spin backstories and second-guess intentions, but in moments like these, policy and speculation usually run side by side—and for now, nobody’s quite sure which one leads. In foreign policy, as in covering the halls of power, silence often precedes the stormiest debates. If the Maduro operation proves anything, it’s the hazards and the virtues of keeping cards close to the vest, even as the world waits—impatient and watchful—for what comes next.

The press room was buzzing—blinding camera flashes, a faint undercurrent of tension, and, standing at the front, Vice President JD Vance. For weeks, the world had speculated about what really unfolded before the midnight raid in Caracas. This wasn’t just a story about a bold U.S. operation to snatch Nicolás Maduro from his seat of power. No, what seemed to gnaw at Washington just as much were whispers claiming the administration’s own top names—Vance and Director of National Intelligence Tulsi Gabbard—had somehow been iced out of the decision-making loop.Vance, looking less harried than many expected, faced the crowd and brushed it aside. “That’s false,” he said, pausing long enough for the line to land. “And another that Tulsi was kept out… that’s completely false. Look, we’re all part of the same team.” The words weren’t showy—almost weary, maybe—but he didn’t hedge on the point. He added, almost offhand, that the plan had required near-perfect secrecy, and in his view, that spoke well of the team’s discipline. “My role is whatever the president asks me to do,” he clarified, a quiet jab perhaps at those who suggest his hands are tied. Apparently, Vance has been in the thick of the planning meetings all along—or so he’d have us believe.Still, those insistent undercurrents had already seeped out. Bloomberg lit a match with its report that “DNI” in some White House circles had become code for “Do Not Invite.” A clever dig, had it been true, but one official swatted at the rumor, saying the joke didn’t even exist. Funny, though—sometimes a catchy little phrase like that, once it finds its way into Beltway banter, is nearly impossible to stamp out.But even for the most cynical observers, the outcome in Caracas was impossible to ignore. U.S. Special Ops moved with startling speed, hustling Maduro and his wife Cilia Flores into custody. The federal charges list reads like something out of a movie: narco-terrorism, intent to smuggle cocaine, and a handful of related conspiracies. Conservative commentators wasted no time drawing contrasts with recent years. “Nice to have a leader and an administration back in the White House who understand that America’s security must come first,” one outlet crowed.For Washington, though, the shock waves weren’t contained to Venezuela. Secretary of State Marco Rubio, never one to mince words when the cameras are rolling, used the moment to draw a bigger circle around U.S. policy. He took aim at Iran and Hezbollah’s operations in the region: “The Trump administration will no longer tolerate Hezbollah’s foothold in the Western Hemisphere.” For Rubio, Venezuela was no mere footnote—it was, as he put it, a “former hub for terror.” Behind his clipped delivery, the subtext was clear: Washington sent a message, and it wanted everyone listening.Predictably, this tough line stoked political flashpoints elsewhere. In Manhattan, arguments over antisemitism and foreign policy grew even more contentious. On Wall Street, traders braced themselves as the Venezuelan oil story collided with energy markets. Senator Elizabeth Warren, never allergic to a fight, accused oil execs of being looped into “Trump’s secret plan” well ahead of the American public. “NOW,” she posted online, in all-caps, angling for urgent hearings and the always-elusive transparency.Warren’s detractors were swift to pounce. Her critics called her latest volley political theater, and Representative Tim Burchett dismissed her comments with a curt “mic drop” on social media. Yet for all the sniping, few doubted the real stakes—not for Venezuela, forced to steady itself overnight, nor for U.S. officials left to manage the fallout with a brand new post-Maduro regime, balancing public reassurance with the constant, private pull of fragility that marks power transitions in troubled capitals.And here’s something you won’t find in neat columns of talking points: In the hours and days since the raid, the Trump White House has been scrambling—not just to maintain order abroad, but also to keep the lid on rumor-mongering at home. The silent choreography of such an operation requires absolute trust up top; but quiet doesn’t always equal calm. As the vice president said while glancing at the assembled press, “I’m very proud” of how it went down. You could read that any number of ways—pride in results, pride in process, or just a plain relief that the doubts hadn’t yet cracked into open dysfunction.Washington can spin backstories and second-guess intentions, but in moments like these, policy and speculation usually run side by side—and for now, nobody’s quite sure which one leads. In foreign policy, as in covering the halls of power, silence often precedes the stormiest debates. If the Maduro operation proves anything, it’s the hazards and the virtues of keeping cards close to the vest, even as the world waits—impatient and watchful—for what comes next.