Quote:”Strategic convenience does not nullify sovereignty. Political frustration does not authorise military abduction.”
The first part of this story was published in our last edition.
In Africa and the Middle East, regime change—whether by invasion, proxy warfare, or sanctions—has often left behind fractured states, weakened institutions, and prolonged instability. Washington’s motivations in Venezuela are widely understood: vast oil reserves, alliances with U.S. rivals, and symbolic defiance of American influence in the Western Hemisphere. But none of these reasons confer legal or moral legitimacy. Strategic convenience does not nullify sovereignty. Political frustration does not authorise military abduction. If every powerful nation acted on its grievances in this manner, global chaos would inevitably follow. International law provides mechanisms for accountability. Under the Rome Statute of the International Criminal Court (ICC), individuals accused of crimes against humanity or other grave offences are subject to investigation and prosecution through judicial processes.
Likewise, extradition treaties, mutual legal assistance agreements, and Interpol mechanisms exist to ensure accountability while respecting due process. These frameworks were designed precisely to prevent unilateral enforcement of “justice” by military force. The most profound consequence of America’s action may not be in Caracas, but in the precedent it sets. If the world accepts that a superpower can unilaterally depose another country’s president, then the foundation of the international system is weakened. Sovereignty becomes conditional—no longer a right, but a privilege tolerated at the discretion of the powerful. Going forward, if another country invades its neighbour, will the United States retain the moral authority to impose sanctions or demand restraint? Some analysts already warn that parallels between Russia’s actions in Ukraine and America’s conduct in Venezuela risk further eroding global norms. Selective adherence to international law breeds cynicism and accelerates the drift toward a world governed by force rather than rules.
Power—military, economic, or political—should serve human progress and collective well-being, not domination and destruction. For African nations, many of which emerged from colonial rule through bitter struggle, this precedent is especially alarming. Sovereignty is not an abstract legal concept; it is a hard-won shield against external domination. Any erosion of that principle anywhere weakens it everywhere. Africa’s painful history of foreign interference makes this lesson especially urgent. For me, the real issue is not whether Nicolás Maduro is a good or bad leader. That judgment belongs, first and foremost, to the Venezuelan people. The larger issue is whether the international system still operates on law—or has quietly reverted to hierarchy. If America insists it is defending global order, it must ask itself a difficult question: can an order survive when its most powerful guardian feels entitled to violate it? Until that question is answered honestly, the capture of a foreign president will remain not a triumph of justice, but a troubling symbol of a world drifting from law toward force.
If the United States felt so strongly about the allegations of terrorism, drug trafficking against Maduro, were there no other lawful options? Judicial accountability, diplomacy, regional mediation, and multilateral pressure may be slow and imperfect, but they reflect respect for international law and sovereign equality. Military seizure is a blunt instrument. It humiliates institutions, radicalizes populations, and hardens resistance. It may remove a leader, but it rarely resolves the underlying crisis. History teaches that military interventions seldom result in stable democratic outcomes. More often, they breed resentment, resistance, and long-term instability. For the sake of global order and the rule of law, the United States should reconsider this path and recommit to diplomacy, legal cooperation, and respect for the sovereign equality of states. Former U.S. Vice President Kamala Harris reportedly described the invasion of Venezuela as “unlawful and unwise,” warning that such actions “do not make America safer, stronger, or more affordable.” Her words reflect a growing recognition, even within the United States, that force without legitimacy undermines both moral authority and global stability.
Should what happened in Venezuela serve as a wake-up call for corrupt African leaders who undermine the people’s right to choose their leaders? The answer is yes. The capture of Maduro should alarm African leaders who manipulate elections, weaken institutions, suppress opposition, undermine citizens’ rights, or cling to power at all costs. Venezuela faced widespread criticism over disputed elections and repression long before this episode, and that context shaped how the world reacted. This does not justify foreign military intervention, but it highlights an uncomfortable truth: prolonged democratic decay isolates nations and invites external pressure—from sanctions to diplomatic censure. Global opinion matters, and legitimacy at home strengthens sovereignty abroad. The Economic Community of West African States (ECOWAS) and several African leaders have rightly condemned the events in Venezuela, invoking the principles of sovereignty and non-interference enshrined in international and regional law.
Beyond condemnation, however, African leaders must look inward. The continent’s future cannot be built on repression, constitutional manipulation, and personal greed. Leadership must reflect the will of the people, not desperation for power. Two days ago, a social commentator on a radio station argued that Trump’s action—though condemnable—demonstrates how far a leader can go for his country’s interest. According to this view, he did not intervene in Venezuela for personal enrichment, but to strengthen his nation. In stark contrast, many African leaders plunder their own countries. They siphon public resources, impose crushing taxes and harmful policies, and leave their citizens poorer—all for selfish gain. That contradiction is the deeper lesson Africa must confront.True sovereignty is protected not only by international law, but by accountable leadership at home.
By: Calista Ezeaku