Trump’s Southern Command Shakeup: Military Crackdown on Cartels Intensifies

Paul Riverbank, 12/13/2025Trump’s Southern Command shakeup triggers debate over lethal anti-cartel tactics and military leadership changes.

Holsey’s exit comes after just a year at the post, an unusually short stint—a detail that wasn’t lost on the nervous whispering of uniformed personnel and civilian observers nearby. He said nothing about the recent series of U.S. strikes targeting suspected drug-running vessels—actions that have simultaneously galvanized supporters and raised legal eyebrows across Washington. Instead, Holsey’s tone seemed almost meditative, focused more on navigating ambiguity than sowing solutions.

At his side stood Lt. Gen. Evan Pettus, a seasoned Air Force officer whose record includes combat flights over Afghanistan and Iraq. He looked comfortable in the sharp, blue uniform but offered few hints about how long he’d remain in this somewhat provisional capacity. The administration, still searching for a permanent successor, appears to be taking its time—perhaps intentionally, perhaps not. Under President Trump, abrupt transitions at the Pentagon have become an occasional feature rather than an aberration.

Context matters. In recent months, the administration moved forcefully against drug traffickers along the Caribbean and Pacific corridors—at least 22 targeted attacks so far. Warships and aircraft carriers have deployed to seas where, for decades, interdictions typically meant Coast Guard arrests and courtroom dramas, not military firepower. Now, deadly force is the instrument of policy. The Pentagon, led by Defense Secretary Pete Hegseth, has channeled both muscle and rhetoric into this campaign. Critics see ghosts of the Monroe Doctrine, the old idea of American stewardship over the hemisphere.

Not everyone is on board. Legal scholars and human rights organizations have raised alarms about lethal escalation. The toll: at least 87 lives lost, according to open-source counts—figures still in dispute, with scant official comment. The question resounds: Does the end—crushing narcotics smuggling by criminal cartels—justify such means? Several lawmakers, including prominent Republicans, have publicly signaled discomfort. “There are still many questions to be answered,” remarked Sen. Jack Reed, following a classified briefing with Holsey. The admiral was tight-lipped about his reasons for retiring, offering only that it was “personal.” Beyond that, Reed told reporters, details stayed behind closed doors.

The wave of leadership changes extends well beyond Southern Command. Secretary Hegseth—himself a polarizing figure—has presided over a string of retirements and replacements across the top military echelons. Insiders suggest the message is blunt: Execution counts, loyalty matters, and patience is in short supply.

The campaign against smugglers has also cast a long shadow over Nicolás Maduro’s government in Venezuela. U.S. forces recently seized a sanctioned oil tanker at sea, claiming it was moving contraband crude. The pressure on Maduro—already charged in U.S. courts with narcoterrorism—mounts. He calls it economic warfare; U.S. officials argue the regime is inseparable from the drug networks undermining American cities.

At the farewell, General Dan Caine, now chairman of the Joint Chiefs, chose not to wade into the swirling disputes. He simply thanked Holsey: “It’s never been about you. It’s been about people, about others.” The gesture felt authentic, the kind of moment where even the lowest-ranking sailor might pause to listen.

As the proceedings adjourned, the music was oddly sentimental—“Midnight Train to Georgia,” not a martial anthem but a reminder that departures are always personal, however political the backdrop. Holsey, his family beside him, walked off beneath a cloudless morning, leaving behind those three words—credible, present, engaged. They hung there, resisting easy answers.

The conclusion feels less like an ending and more a new act. There’s urgency, certainly. Supporters of the military campaign believe lives are being saved; detractors worry about the price, both in legality and in lives lost at sea. If anything’s clear, it’s that as command changes hands, so too does the nature of America’s war on drug traffickers—a fight now colored by uncertainty, debate, and the sobering costs of force deployed in the name of safety.

On an uncharacteristically crisp morning in Miami, the air at U.S. Southern Command’s headquarters carried a peculiar mix of routine and uncertainty. The ceremony marking Admiral Alvin Holsey’s departure was understated—even for a military ritual. No thunderous speeches. No allusions to the mounting controversy unfolding just beyond the base’s fences. Instead, Holsey, quietly dignified, offered three words: “Credible, present, engaged.” Staff clustered in uneven rows, perhaps uncertain whether to treat the morning as a farewell or the sign of more turbulence ahead.Holsey’s exit comes after just a year at the post, an unusually short stint—a detail that wasn’t lost on the nervous whispering of uniformed personnel and civilian observers nearby. He said nothing about the recent series of U.S. strikes targeting suspected drug-running vessels—actions that have simultaneously galvanized supporters and raised legal eyebrows across Washington. Instead, Holsey’s tone seemed almost meditative, focused more on navigating ambiguity than sowing solutions.At his side stood Lt. Gen. Evan Pettus, a seasoned Air Force officer whose record includes combat flights over Afghanistan and Iraq. He looked comfortable in the sharp, blue uniform but offered few hints about how long he’d remain in this somewhat provisional capacity. The administration, still searching for a permanent successor, appears to be taking its time—perhaps intentionally, perhaps not. Under President Trump, abrupt transitions at the Pentagon have become an occasional feature rather than an aberration.Context matters. In recent months, the administration moved forcefully against drug traffickers along the Caribbean and Pacific corridors—at least 22 targeted attacks so far. Warships and aircraft carriers have deployed to seas where, for decades, interdictions typically meant Coast Guard arrests and courtroom dramas, not military firepower. Now, deadly force is the instrument of policy. The Pentagon, led by Defense Secretary Pete Hegseth, has channeled both muscle and rhetoric into this campaign. Critics see ghosts of the Monroe Doctrine, the old idea of American stewardship over the hemisphere.Not everyone is on board. Legal scholars and human rights organizations have raised alarms about lethal escalation. The toll: at least 87 lives lost, according to open-source counts—figures still in dispute, with scant official comment. The question resounds: Does the end—crushing narcotics smuggling by criminal cartels—justify such means? Several lawmakers, including prominent Republicans, have publicly signaled discomfort. “There are still many questions to be answered,” remarked Sen. Jack Reed, following a classified briefing with Holsey. The admiral was tight-lipped about his reasons for retiring, offering only that it was “personal.” Beyond that, Reed told reporters, details stayed behind closed doors.The wave of leadership changes extends well beyond Southern Command. Secretary Hegseth—himself a polarizing figure—has presided over a string of retirements and replacements across the top military echelons. Insiders suggest the message is blunt: Execution counts, loyalty matters, and patience is in short supply.The campaign against smugglers has also cast a long shadow over Nicolás Maduro’s government in Venezuela. U.S. forces recently seized a sanctioned oil tanker at sea, claiming it was moving contraband crude. The pressure on Maduro—already charged in U.S. courts with narcoterrorism—mounts. He calls it economic warfare; U.S. officials argue the regime is inseparable from the drug networks undermining American cities.At the farewell, General Dan Caine, now chairman of the Joint Chiefs, chose not to wade into the swirling disputes. He simply thanked Holsey: “It’s never been about you. It’s been about people, about others.” The gesture felt authentic, the kind of moment where even the lowest-ranking sailor might pause to listen.As the proceedings adjourned, the music was oddly sentimental—“Midnight Train to Georgia,” not a martial anthem but a reminder that departures are always personal, however political the backdrop. Holsey, his family beside him, walked off beneath a cloudless morning, leaving behind those three words—credible, present, engaged. They hung there, resisting easy answers.The conclusion feels less like an ending and more a new act. There’s urgency, certainly. Supporters of the military campaign believe lives are being saved; detractors worry about the price, both in legality and in lives lost at sea. If anything’s clear, it’s that as command changes hands, so too does the nature of America’s war on drug traffickers—a fight now colored by uncertainty, debate, and the sobering costs of force deployed in the name of safety.