NEW COLONIALISM

It was 8 a.m. this morning and I was reading The New York Times when it broke the news of an ongoing military operation in Venezuela. I had no doubts from the very first moment: it was the Americans.

A few weeks ago, I wrote an article about extrajudicial actions, (link  EXTRA-JUDICIAL KILLINGS) noting that the deployment of forces did not point to an operation against drug trafficking, but rather to an action directed at a country itself.

I have no intention of forgetting—or defending—the current Venezuelan regime, but hearing Trump say today, “we will run Venezuela,” made me stop and reflect on what is REALLY going on ….

There is a moment, in every geopolitical confrontation, when the official narrative becomes too thin to hide the real motive. The recent U.S. strike against Venezuela — limited, targeted, and wrapped in the language of “security” — belongs to that category. It was not about democracy. It was not about human rights. And it certainly was not about sudden moral outrage. It was about resources. Old-fashioned, geological, stubbornly physical resources.

Venezuela sits on one of the largest proven oil reserves on the planet, concentrated mainly in the Orinoco Belt. Add to that gas, gold, coltan, rare earths, and strategic geography in the Caribbean, and the picture becomes clearer. For decades, Venezuela has been less a failed state than a contested warehouse — mismanaged internally, but relentlessly eyed from outside.

The strike itself — whose details remain deliberately opaque — fits a familiar pattern. Precision over scale. Message over destruction. A reminder, more than an invasion. It signals to Caracas, to allies, and to markets that the United States is willing to move from sanctions and financial strangulation to calibrated force when strategic patience runs out. This is not regime change by shock and awe; it is leverage through controlled escalation.

Washington’s language, as always, speaks of stability and protection. Yet history suggests another reading. From Iraq to Libya, from Iran’s sanctions to the quiet militarization of shipping lanes, access to energy has rarely been a secondary concern. Venezuela’s oil, heavy and expensive to refine, remains nonetheless indispensable in a world where energy transitions talk loudly but fossil fuels still pay the bills.

At the center of this struggle stands PDVSA, the national oil company, once a symbol of national pride, now a hollowed-out giant weakened by corruption, sanctions, and brain drain. Its decay is not accidental collateral damage; it is strategic. A weakened PDVSA makes future “

,” restructurings, and external control not only possible but inevitable. When institutions collapse, ownership becomes negotiable.

What is striking is the timing. As global energy markets tighten, as China and Russia deepen their presence in Latin America, and as Europe quietly looks elsewhere for supply security, Venezuela becomes once again relevant. Not as a pariah, but as a prize. The strike, in this sense, is less about Caracas and more about Beijing and Moscow — a reminder that the Western Hemisphere is still considered a zone of influence,

.

From a distance — and this is where the vitavissuta lens matters — Venezuela looks like many places I have seen over the years: rich land, poor people, and power hovering just offshore. Ordinary Venezuelans will not gain cheaper fuel, better food, or safer streets from this escalation.

. And uncertainty, unlike oil, cannot be refined or exported.

This is not a clash of values.

. The strike tells us something uncomfortable but familiar: in the global order, sovereignty weakens when resources grow valuable. And Venezuela, for all its internal failures, is once again paying the price of being rich in the wrong things.