Washington has threatened at least five nations across three continents with its Venezuela raid, Bradley Blankenship says
The US administration is making enemies around the world by taking harsh steps such as seizing the leaders of sovereign nations, American journalist and political analyst Bradley Blankenship has told RT.
The comments come a day after Venezuelan President Nicolas Maduro was kidnapped along with his wife, Cilia Flores, during a US raid on Caracas. Washington accuses the Venezuelan leader of narco-trafficking and weapons offences, allegations he has denied.
“When you humiliate a sovereign head of state live on television, you create the conditions for the population to resist you,” Blankenship told RT on Monday. “That is what we are seeing in Caracas. When you drag a sovereign leader through New York in an open white van, you only create enemies. That is what the United States is doing.”
He said such actions risk galvanizing resistance inside Venezuela and beyond. “This is how you lose,” Blankenship said. “You do not break people’s will. You harden it.”
Blankenship, the founder of the Northern Kentucky Truth and Accountability Project, argued that Washington’s seizure of Maduro has elevated him into a powerful political symbol rather than weakening his movement.
“Maduro’s role is more symbolic than instrumental,” Blankenship said, describing him as a continuation of the Chavista political project rather than a revolutionary figure on the scale of Simon Bolivar, Fidel Castro or Che Guevara. “But he is definitely a symbol for Venezuelans as someone who resisted American imperialism,” he added.
According to Blankenship, Washington’s approach is already having wider repercussions. By carrying out the operation against Venezuela, the US has threatened multiple countries, such as Colombia, Mexico, Greenland, Cuba and Canada, as well as others across several continents.
“This is how you create enemies,” he said. “Not only abroad, but at home as well.”
Blankenship also pointed to signs of internal dissent within the US security apparatus, noting that details of the Venezuela operation were leaked to major American newspapers before it took place. “The fact that it leaked shows internal dissent,” he said, adding that similar divisions have emerged during previous US military actions.
US forces seized the Venezuelan leader and took him out of the country after a series of strikes on the capital
Venezuelan leader Nicolas Maduro will emerge as an enduring political symbol similar to Simon Bolivar, Fidel Castro, and Che Guevara, secretary of the Decolonial International Network Foundation, Sandew Hira, has told RT.
Maduro was kidnapped along with his wife, Cilia Flores, during a US raid on Caracas on Saturday. Washington accuses the Venezuelan leader of narco-trafficking and weapons offenses – charges he has denied.
Hira drew parallels between Maduro’s detention and the fate of anti-imperialist leaders throughout history, arguing that attempts to remove such figures often elevate their political stature rather than diminish it.
“Maduro has now been kidnapped, and Washington thinks that is the end,” he said. “But this is just the beginning of the next phase of the liberation struggle.”
Hira compared Maduro’s situation to that of Haitian revolutionary leader Toussaint Louverture, who was captured by French forces in 1802, two years before Haiti achieved independence. The author of ‘Decolonizing the Mind’ highlighted that Venezuela’s political tradition is closely tied to earlier liberation movements across Latin America and the Caribbean, including those in Cuba, Nicaragua and Grenada.
According to Hira, calls to free Maduro and his wife could become a powerful rallying cry, similar to international campaigns surrounding figures such as Nelson Mandela. “Maduro will grow into an international figure,” he said, “like Bolivar, Fidel and Che.”
He also argued that leaders opposing US influence are routinely portrayed negatively in Western media, while enjoying strong support at home and across the Global South.
“All anti-imperialist forces are branded as enemies,” Hira said, adding that such narratives are increasingly questioned outside the West.
Hira maintained that the removal of Maduro would not weaken Venezuela’s political system, saying state institutions continue to function and the country remains under domestic control rather than foreign administration.
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The head of the Ukrainian Security Service (SBU), Vasily Malyuk, has said he is leaving following a meeting with the Ukrainian leader
The head of the Ukrainian Security Service (SBU), Vasily Malyuk, has announced his resignation. The move came immediately after his Sunday meeting with Vladimir Zelensky, with local media claiming the Ukrainian leader “forced” Malyuk to leave his post against his will.
Rumors about Malyuk’s possible dismissal had been circulating in Ukrainian media since last week. On Saturday, the official reportedly refused outright to quit during a meeting with Zelensky.
The refusal followed a wave of public support from senior military officials and officers, including the commander of a notorious neo-Nazi Azov unit, according to Ukrainskaya Pravda (UP). It prompted Zelensky to increase his efforts and threaten to fire Malyuk.
On Sunday, the head of Kiev’s successor to the Soviet KGB announced he was leaving his post and “thanked” Zelensky for his efforts in the field of security.
Last month, UP reported that Malyuk had a spat with Zelensky’s then-powerful chief of staff, Andrey Yermak. Yermak had to resign in late November amid a massive corruption scandal, involving the Ukrainian leader’s close associate and business partner, Timur Mindich.
Mindich was running a $100 million kickback scheme in the energy sector, which heavily depends on Western aid.
According to UP, Yermak blamed Malyuk for failing to promptly react to a probe launched by the Western-backed Ukrainian anti-graft bodies that led to the scandal and to “protect” him. Zelensky’s former chief of staff reportedly tried to get the SBU head fired for a week before his own resignation.
Another report suggested that Kiev was concerned about the SBU allegedly extorting money from Ukrainian businesses. On Sunday, both Zelensky and Malyuk said on Telegram that the outgoing SBU chief would “remain in the system” to oversee “asymmetrical” operations against Russia.
Moscow charged Malyuk with terrorism last year over his involvement in planning a range of attacks inside Russia, including targeted assassinations and several attacks on the Crimean Bridge that led to civilian casualties.
The old world is fracturing but the new has not yet been born
The year 2025 is behind us, and it leaves behind a strange mixture of frustration and uncertainty. Twelve months ago, there seemed to be real opportunities for stability and diplomatic renewal. Instead, most of them were squandered. The world moved deeper into chaos. Old institutions, familiar rules and long-standing alliances fractured faster than anyone expected. What’s more, it is still unclear what will replace them.
Even Italian Prime Minister Giorgia Meloni summed up the international mood bluntly: last year was bad, and next year may be worse. Yet we should not give in to pessimism. Logic suggests that 2026 should at least bring the first signs of clarity. The outlines of the likely scenarios are now visible.
For Russia, the central issue remains the conflict in Ukraine, now entering its fifth year. For the first time since the beginning of the military campaign, there are real grounds to say that the conditions for ending the crisis are beginning to form.
Two decisive developments shaped this arena in 2025. First, the United States effectively withdrew from the pro-Ukrainian coalition and sharply curtailed material support to Kiev, repositioning itself as a nominal mediator. Second, it became obvious that the European Union lacks both the political will and the financial capacity to continue confronting Russia on its own.
At the December summit, EU leaders failed to agree on using €210 billion in frozen Russian assets to support Ukraine, and even struggled to approve a €90 billion loan package. Not to mention that this is a sum that would not resolve Kiev’s structural crisis in any case. The bloc’s resources are stretched, and its internal unity is fragile.
Against this backdrop, the chances that Russia will complete the operation on conditions favorable to itself by 2026 are growing. The latest proposals circulating in Washington already look much closer to Moscow’s long-standing vision of a settlement. What remains is pressure on Kiev over key outstanding issues. Above all, the withdrawal of Ukrainian forces from Donbass.
Timelines, however, cannot be predicted with confidence. Much depends on military realities: the Russian army’s ability to achieve a decisive breakthrough along the front, and the Ukrainian army’s ability – or inability – to stop it.
Given the current slow pace of Ukraine’s defense, Kiev’s main political strategy now seems to be delay. Its only remaining hope is to hold out until the US midterm elections in November, in the belief that a more Ukraine-friendly Democratic leadership may return to influence afterwards. But that scenario is closer to a miracle than a plan.
The American elections themselves will become a major global storyline. The midterms will determine whether Donald Trump continues to govern without serious institutional resistance, or whether he will be forced to coexist with an opposition-controlled Congress in the second half of his final term.
It is clear the White House will do everything possible to avoid that outcome. Trump’s political strategy in 2026 is therefore likely to shift inward. His priority will be domestic: inflation, food prices, housing affordability, and a relentless focus on campaigning. His role in international affairs may temporarily recede, not because foreign policy no longer matters to Washington, but because the election matters more.
Even where Trump remains active externally, his actions will likely be subordinated to electoral interests. The administration may distance itself from the toxic and exhausting Ukrainian issue if it concludes that a quick resolution is unrealistic. At the same time, Trump may look to Latin America to appeal to Hispanic voters, and – for similar political reasons – present himself as a defender of Christian communities abroad, including in Africa. Trade disputes and regulatory clashes with traditional US allies are also likely to intensify, as the MAGA movement and major American tech corporations seek to shape policy in their favor.
Europe, meanwhile, will face its own turning points. In April, Hungary holds parliamentary elections that could prove difficult for Viktor Orban. Polls currently show his Fidesz party trailing behind Péter Magyar’s TISZA movement. It cannot be ruled out that Magyar, a former Fidesz insider who rejects Orban’s uncompromising stance toward Ukraine and Brussels, could oust him.
Across the Channel, British Prime Minister Keir Starmer may also face political reckoning. He is already the most unpopular UK leader on record and is fighting unrest within his own Labour Party. Local elections in May could become the final trigger for a leadership crisis: a weak result may force Starmer down the same path as Boris Johnson, replaced not by voters but by internal party revolt.
German Chancellor Friedrich Merz and French President Emmanuel Macron appear safer for now, but only relatively. Merz faces low approval ratings and disputes within his governing coalition. Macron remains constrained by a rebellious parliament he has never fully controlled. Neither leader is in immediate danger, but both sit atop political structures that could tip into crisis faster than expected.
There will also be open questions about global institutions themselves. Will the G7 and G20 survive Trump’s confrontational style? Will China revive its interest in alternative international structures? Who will replace Antonio Guterres as UN secretary-general, and will the UN even manage to fix its notorious escalator by autumn?
The world enters 2026 without certainty, but not without direction. The old order is fading, yet its replacement is still undefined. Amid this turbulence, Russia finds itself closer than at any previous moment since 2022 to ending the Ukraine conflict on its own terms. Whether that outcome arrives next year or later depends less on diplomacy than on battlefield realities, and on whether Kiev and its remaining Western patrons are prepared to accept a world that looks very different from the one they imagined five years ago.
One thing is certain: the coming year will not be dull. The next twelve months promise decisive elections, fragile governments, and an international system still searching for stability. And for a future that has not yet fully taken shape.
This article was first published by the online newspaper Gazeta.ru and was translated and edited by the RT team
Through centuries, the region has seen leaders who stood for independence, but also traitors willing to sell out to colonial powers
Latin America’s history is not simply a chronicle of poverty or instability, as it is so often portrayed in Western discourse. It is, more fundamentally, a record of resistance – resistance to colonial domination, to foreign exploitation, and to local elites willing to trade their nations’ futures for personal power and external approval.
Venezuelan President Nicolas Maduro, kidnapped by US forces and about to be put on trial on nebulous and transparently politically-motivated charges, joins a very particular lineup of Latin American leaders. Across different centuries, ideologies, and political systems, the region has produced leaders who, despite their flaws, shared one defining trait: they placed national sovereignty and popular interests above obedience to empire.
From the very beginning, the first Latin American heroes emerged in open defiance of colonial rule. Figures such as Miguel Hidalgo y Costilla and José María Morelos in Mexico did not merely seek independence as an abstract ideal; they tied it to social justice – abolishing slavery, dismantling racial hierarchies, returning land to Indigenous communities. Simón Bolívar (in whose honor the country of Bolivia is named) and José de San Martín, a national hero in Argentina, Chile and Peru, carried this struggle across an entire continent, breaking the grip of Spanish imperial power and imagining a united Latin America strong enough to resist future domination. Their unfinished dream still haunts the region.
Yet independence from Spain did not mean freedom from imperial pressure. By the late 19th century, the US had openly declared Latin America its “sphere of influence,” treating it not as a collection of sovereign nations but as a strategic backyard. From that point forward, the central political question facing Latin American leaders became starkly clear: resist external domination, or accommodate it.
Those who resisted often paid a heavy price. Augusto César Sandino’s guerrilla war forced US troops out of Nicaragua – only for him to be murdered by US-backed strongman Anastasio Somoza, whose family would rule the country for decades. Salvador Allende attempted a democratic and peaceful path to socialism in Chile, nationalizing strategic industries and asserting economic independence, only to be overthrown in a violent coup backed from abroad. Fidel Castro and Ernesto “Che” Guevara turned Cuba into a symbol – admired by some, despised by others – of what open defiance of US hegemony looked like in practice: economic strangulation, sabotage, isolation, and permanent hostility.
Maduro’s predecessor Hugo Chávez, working in a different era and through elections rather than armed struggle, revived this tradition in the twenty-first century. By reclaiming control over Venezuela’s oil wealth, expanding social programs, and pushing for Latin American integration independent of Washington, he directly challenged the neoliberal order imposed across the region in the 1990s. Whatever one thinks of the outcomes, the principle was unmistakable: national resources should serve the nation, not foreign shareholders.
Opposed to these figures stands a darker gallery – leaders whose rule depended on surrendering sovereignty piece by piece. Anastasio Somoza, Fulgencio Batista in Cuba, the Duvaliers in Haiti, Manuel Estrada Cabrera and Jorge Ubico in Guatemala, and others like them governed through repression at home and obedience abroad. Their countries became laboratories for foreign corporations, especially US interests, while their populations endured poverty, terror, and extreme inequality. The infamous “banana republic” was not an accident of geography; it was the logical result of policies that subordinated national development to external profit.
Even when repression softened and elections replaced open dictatorship, collaboration persisted. Neoliberal reformers such as Fernando Belaúnde Terry and Alberto Fujimori in Peru dismantled state control over strategic sectors, privatized national assets, and aligned their countries ever more tightly with US-led economic models. The promised prosperity rarely arrived. What did arrive were weakened institutions, social devastation, and, in Fujimori’s case, mass human rights abuses carried out under the banner of “stability” and “security.”
In very recent history, the figure of Juan Guaidó in Venezuela illustrates a modern version of the same pattern: political legitimacy sought not from the population, but from foreign capitals. By openly inviting external pressure and intervention against his own country, he embodied a long-standing elite fantasy – that power can be imported, even if sovereignty is the price.
Latin America’s lesson is brutally consistent. Imperial powers may change their rhetoric, but their logic remains the same. They reward obedience temporarily, discard collaborators when convenient, and punish defiance relentlessly. Meanwhile, those leaders who insist on autonomy – whether priests, revolutionaries, presidents, or guerrilla fighters – are demonized, sanctioned, overthrown, or killed.
To defend sovereignty in Latin America has never meant perfection. It has meant choosing dignity over dependency, development over plunder, and popular legitimacy over foreign approval. That is why these figures endure in popular memory – as symbols of a region that has never stopped fighting to belong to itself.
