Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff Gen. Dan Caine and Department of War Secretary Pete Hegseth, State Secretary monitor U.S. military operations in Venezuela, from the Mar-a-Lago Club in Palm Beach, Florida, on Saturday, January 3, 2026. | White House Photo by Molly Riley
In a Jan. 4, 2026, Substack essay that has been circulating quietly but intensely among defense analysts and policymakers here in Washington, geopolitical writer Shanaka Anslem Perera distilled what many in this town sensed almost immediately after the early hours of Jan. 3.
In his analysis titled “The Delta Doctrine: How 150 Minutes Over Caracas Redrew the Map of Global Power,” Perera wrote: “The capture of Nicolás Maduro represents far more than the removal of a narco-dictator. It represents the crystallization of a new doctrine of American power that the world has not seen since the height of the Cold War.”
That observation explains why the reverberations from Caracas were felt almost instantly far beyond Latin America. In the days that followed, conversations in Washington shifted noticeably, from think tanks along Massachusetts Avenue to discreet briefings inside allied embassies. The question was no longer what happened – but what it meant.
For years after the chaotic withdrawal from Afghanistan, a lingering doubt shadowed American foreign policy. Does the United States still possess not only overwhelming capability, but also the political will to act decisively?
Perera framed that question bluntly, writing that the operation represented “the final answer to the question that has haunted international relations since the disastrous withdrawals from Kabul: does America still have the will to act?”
In Perera’s analysis, and in the assessment of many officials I have spoken with, the response was unmistakable. “The answer arrived on rotors in the darkness above Caracas.”
What followed was not merely a successful raid, but a carefully calibrated strategic message. Perera argues that its consequences extend far beyond Venezuela itself. “The implications cascade across every domain of international relations,” he writes, “from the credibility of Russian arms exports to the viability of Chinese Belt and Road investments… to the calculus of every dictator who believed great-power patronage could shield them from American justice.”
That sentence encapsulates why the episode has become a reference point in Washington almost overnight. Credibility, once lost, is difficult to restore. But when reasserted, behavior changes quickly among allies and adversaries alike.
Perera also anticipates the debates that will inevitably follow. “The chattering classes will debate the legality for years. The historians will argue about proportionality for decades,” he notes. “But the dictators of the world understood the message instantly.”
Whether one agrees with the operation or not, that assessment rings true. Deterrence is not built on speeches alone. It rests on the belief that lines, once crossed, carry consequences.
From a Philippine perspective, that moment deserves careful attention. As a treaty ally of the United States situated in a contested Indo-Pacific, the Philippines depends heavily on credibility and clarity in alliance commitments. For smaller and middle powers, deterrence is not an abstract concept debated in seminar rooms. It is the invisible scaffolding that supports sovereignty, maritime rights, and regional stability.
“Jan. 3, 2026, will not be remembered merely as the night a dictator fell. It will be remembered as a moment when the global conversation about power, credibility, and resolve decisively changed. History will judge the long-term consequences.”
The renewed emphasis on American resolve has direct implications for the West Philippine Sea, freedom of navigation, and the confidence of partners who rely on a rules-based order. It reinforces the logic behind recent defense cooperation agreements, joint exercises, and capacity-building efforts that Manila has pursued steadily across administrations.
One aspect of Perera’s analysis that particularly resonates in Washington is the emphasis on preparation over improvisation. The operation was not a spur-of-the-moment decision, but the culmination of months of pressure, intelligence work, cyber operations, and electronic warfare. The lightning strike was simply the final act of a campaign already shaped in quieter and less visible arenas.
That distinction matters. Modern power is no longer defined solely by firepower but by coordination, patience, and clarity of purpose – qualities that allies watch closely and adversaries study carefully.
Critics will argue, and with reason, that such actions risk escalation or weaken international norms. Those concerns merit serious discussion. But so, too, does the cost of inaction. A world in which authoritarian leaders believe they are untouchable is not a safer world. History has shown repeatedly that ambiguity, when misread as weakness, invites miscalculation.
Perera ends his essay with a line that has already become a refrain in policy circles: “The United States is back. And it is not asking for permission.”
Whether that sentiment is welcomed or viewed cautiously, it undeniably signals a shift. Allies will recalibrate. Adversaries will reassess. Middle powers, especially in the Indo-Pacific, will watch closely and adjust their strategies accordingly.
Let me share an anecdote that happened a few evenings after the operation, at a small off-the-record gathering not far from Dupont Circle. A senior intelligence officer, now retired and indeed no hawk, summed it up quietly over coffee. “It’s not about Venezuela,” he said. “It’s about whether deterrence still exists.”
That, in essence, is the point.
Jan. 3, 2026, will not be remembered merely as the night a dictator fell. It will be remembered as a moment when the global conversation about power, credibility, and resolve decisively changed. History will judge the long-term consequences. But the message, as Perera rightly observed, has already been received.
For the Philippines, the lesson is not to seek confrontation, but to invest consistently in capability, partnerships, and national confidence. Deterrence works best when it is quiet, credible, and collective. Washington’s renewed emphasis on resolve underscores why modernization, interoperability, and diplomacy must move together.
In an era of sharpening competition, small states cannot afford illusions. They must read signals clearly, strengthen alliances prudently, and ensure that peace is preserved – not by wishful thinking, but by preparedness grounded in shared interests and mutual respect.
These are lessons Washington insiders quietly acknowledge while the rest of the world watches closely today.
Email: babeseyeview@gmail.com
