Over the last few weeks, the United States has taken a posture toward Venezuela that would have been unthinkable – at least rhetorically – just a generation ago. Military actions justified as “law enforcement.” Cross-border operations framed as routine. Allegations treated as authorization. Sovereign boundaries treated as optional.
Whether every report is accurate in detail is besides the point.
What matters is that the reaction has been muted, the justification casual, and the precedent barely questioned.
And that reveals something far more important than the fate of Venezuela or the guilt or innocence of its leadership.
It reveals that state sovereignty is not a principle at all.
It is a story. Plain and simple.
Sovereignty, When Convenient
The modern state rests on a foundational claim: sovereignty.
That within defined borders, a government possesses supreme authority.
That this authority is mutually respected by other states.
That violations of sovereignty are extraordinary, illegal, and dangerous.
This claim is invoked constantly – especially when smaller states resist pressure, sanctions, or intervention.
But what happens when a powerful state decides sovereignty no longer applies?
It doesn’t collapse the system.
It simply proceeds.
No emergency summit.
No meaningful enforcement.
No universal outrage.
Just explanations.
That should tell us everything we need to know.
Egoism, Not Law, Is the Operating System
The United States did not suddenly “forget” the concept of sovereignty.
It overrode it.
Not because the law changed, but because interest did.
This is what state egoism looks like in practice:
- Law when it aligns with power
- Norms when they constrain others
- Exceptions when they constrain the self
The language changes, but the logic remains constant.
When a state can redefine military action as policing, abduction as arrest, and incursion as jurisdiction, sovereignty stops being a rule and becomes a rhetorical tool.
And tools are only used when convenient.
The Illusion Is the Point
Here’s the uncomfortable truth most defenders of statism refuse to confront:
If sovereignty only exists when respected by stronger states, it does not exist at all.
-A right that evaporates under pressure is not a right.
-A principle that applies selectively is not a principle.
-A system that depends on restraint by the powerful is not law—it is etiquette.
The U.S. didn’t “violate” sovereignty in Venezuela.
It demonstrated that sovereignty was never real to begin with.
What we witnessed was not a breakdown of the state system.
It was the state system operating exactly as designed.
Why This Should Worry Everyone – Not Just Critics of the U.S.
This isn’t about defending Venezuela.
It isn’t about defending Maduro.
And it certainly isn’t about pretending other states wouldn’t act the same way if they could.
That’s the problem.
If sovereignty is conditional, then no state is secure – only tolerated.
If legitimacy flows from force, then law is decorative at best.
If states reserve the right to suspend the rules whenever they declare moral urgency, then the entire framework of international order is performative.
And if that’s true, we’re forced to ask a much harder question:
Why should anyone place faith in the state as a guarantor of order, rights, or stability at all?
Statism Eats Its Own Foundations
Statism asks us to believe two contradictory things at once:
- That the state is the highest legitimate authority within its borders
- That this authority dissolves instantly when challenged by a stronger state
You can’t reconcile those claims.
Either sovereignty is inviolable, or it is fictive.
Either law restrains power, or power defines law.
What recent events make clear is that power wins, and law follows.
Once that’s acknowledged, the moral authority of the state collapses—not because it’s evil, but because it’s incoherent.
The Quiet Implication
This is the part most commentators miss.
The real consequence of these actions isn’t geopolitical instability.
It’s philosophical exposure.
When states act openly in egoism while still speaking the language of law, they teach their citizens an unintended lesson:
- That legitimacy does not come from consent.
- That rules are conditional.
- That protection is selective.
- That authority is situational.
And once people internalize that, they begin looking elsewhere for stability.
Not through rebellion.
Not through chaos.
But through exit.
When the Myth Breaks
The state depends on belief more than force.
Belief that borders matter.
Belief that rules apply evenly.
Belief that sovereignty is real.
Every time a powerful state discards those beliefs without consequence, it accelerates their decay.
What we are watching is not the failure of international law.
It is the end of faith in the story that law governs power at all.
And once that faith is gone, the question is no longer who rules.
It becomes:
What systems can people rely on when rulers no longer pretend to be bound by their own principles?
That is not a Venezuelan question.
It’s a civilizational one.
