At present, the pretext for targeting Venezuela as part of combating international drug cartels is dubious. Most of the dangerous fentanyl supply that enters the United States is made in China and trafficked through Mexico, and neither country is being threatened with attack. Additionally, we still do not know if the types of boats hit by the U.S. military strikes are indeed drug-smuggling vessels. So far, none of the struck vessels shown looks large enough to traverse across the Caribbean.

But even if Maduro were involved in some illicit trafficking network, that fact would not remotely justify a military intervention whose consequences would almost certainly dwarf the problem it purports to solve.

First, let’s start with the obvious: a collapsed, failed state in Venezuela and the ensuing region-wide chaos. In recent history, prior American military interventions worldwide have all resulted in substantial and well-documented regional instability and humanitarian crises. In each case, extremist and criminal actors became more entrenched, increasing their power and international reach. From sectarian civil war in Iraq and Syria leading to the rise of ISIS, to the open slave markets and warlordism in Libya, and the spillover conflicts emanating from that country that engulfed the entire Sahel region—American nation-building has a miserable record. To be fair, nation-building has only ever succeeded when the invaded country was already fully industrialized, as in the cases of Japan and Germany after World War II. In contrast, both the human and financial costs of recent attempts have been immense, weakening the U.S. at home and abroad.

The first Trump administration’s own wargaming found that the fallout from regime change in Venezuela would be “sustained” turmoil, necessitating tens of thousands of U.S. troops to stabilize the country. The political violence would likely intensify if something like a “regime collapse” is deliberately pursued, which would likely leave military units loyal to the Maduro regime, criminal organizations, and local druglords as the most powerful actors on the ground. The result would be a zero-sum, internecine guerrilla warfare over control of the oil-rich country. It is a lose-lose scenario for Trump, Maduro, and the wider region that has already taken in more than 7 million Venezuelan refugees.

Second, waging war in Venezuela could also prove to be political Kryptonite for President Trump. After all, he was elected precisely because he was deemed to be more restrained (the president’s critics even labeled him an ‘isolationist’) compared to alternatives that toed the hawkish uniparty line. A new war of choice in America’s own hemisphere—the blowback of which could be more strongly felt—risks disillusioning Trump’s America First support base, who tasked him to end America’s senseless wars and not start new ones. At a time when many Americans are struggling with an affordability crisis and the country is in pressing need of investments to restore its industrial base and the living standards of its citizens, spending billions of dollars and sending American servicemen to war with a country that poses no threat to the United States and lies outside the American sphere of influence could well alienate many Trump voters and turn him into a lame duck, not to mention damaging his successor for the 2028 elections.