World News

06-09-2026

The World Responds to Trump’s Pressure

The tough foreign policy of Donald Trump’s administration—threats, sanctions, harsh rhetoric, and bargaining with allies and adversaries alike—is provoking increasingly visible resistance. Mexico is responding to insulting statements about trade, Iran is seeking political and retaliatory leverage, while Hezbollah is condemning U.S. support for Israeli strikes. Canada, Venezuela, and Russia, meanwhile, are reassessing their strategies amid American proposals, negotiations, and growing geopolitical uncertainty. Commentators warn that maximum pressure can fuel nationalism, provoke instability, and contribute to the formation of new regional alliances. Based on reports by Infonativa.com.ar, Bloomberg Línea, and Facebook (Venezuela).

Oil, Sanctions, and Sovereignty: A Latin American View of Trump

In Latin American public debate, Donald Trump’s policy toward Iran, Venezuela, and Mexico is viewed through more than just the lens of diplomacy or markets. The focus is on economic coercion, control over natural resources, national dignity, and the consequences of Washington’s decisions for the countries of the region.

The anti-sanctions perspective is expressed particularly clearly in the article “Operation ‘Economic Pariah’: Trump’s Last Card in the Iranian Dead End”. Its author presents the new U.S. campaign of restrictions against Iran not as a demonstration of American strength, but as an attempt by the Trump administration to conceal strategic and diplomatic failures ahead of the midterm elections. In this interpretation, sanctions become a “smokescreen” after Washington failed to achieve its military objectives and was left without a politically convenient way to acknowledge the failure of diplomacy.

Although the article is not a direct expression of the Venezuelan expert community’s position, its argument resonates with a country that has long lived under U.S. restrictions, depended on oil revenues, and searched for alternative trade channels. The author’s main conclusion is that economic pressure does not always lead to capitulation or regime change. On the contrary, it can encourage the emergence of a “resistance economy”: import substitution, the restructuring of energy infrastructure, informal trade routes, and mechanisms for evading oil restrictions.

The article cites the book How Sanctions Work: Iran and the Impact of Economic Warfare, which argues that 47 years of sanctions pushed Iran to develop import substitution, decentralize its energy system, and adapt to restrictions on oil sales. This experience is particularly relevant to Venezuela. U.S. sanctions against Venezuela’s oil industry, financial sector, and state institutions have likewise encouraged a reorientation of foreign trade, expanded cooperation with China, Russia, and Iran, and prompted efforts to preserve raw-material exports.

The author draws a parallel between Iran and Russia, arguing that Moscow is adopting some of Iran’s experience in adapting to sanctions. China is portrayed as the most important counterweight to U.S. pressure: according to the article, Beijing is prepared to respond to secondary sanctions against companies working with Tehran. In the Venezuelan context, this logic has not only political but also practical significance: cooperation with China and other states in conflict with Washington is seen as protection against unilateral American control over international payments and trade flows.

The article calls sanctions policy a “shadow play” and a “diplomatic sale of smoke.” Former congressional aide Kurt Bardella describes the contradiction between Trump’s slogans and actions this way: “We are witnessing the complete collapse of everything Trump said MAGA and Republicans stood for… They were against endless conflicts in the Middle East—and started a conflict in the Middle East without an exit strategy.” In this criticism, the America First slogan is contrasted with a policy that, it is argued, draws the United States into a protracted conflict while simultaneously increasing costs for its own citizens.

The oil market occupies a separate place in the discussion. The author interprets the closure of the Strait of Hormuz as a mechanism for shifting money from consumers to exporters and major energy corporations. Under this logic, high prices benefit Iran, Russia, Saudi Arabia, Oman, and American oil companies, while American families face more expensive gasoline, food, and fertilizer. For Venezuela, which possesses some of the world’s largest oil reserves, rising global prices could provide an opportunity to increase export revenues. However, sanctions barriers and limited market access prevent the country from fully benefiting from favorable conditions.

Against this backdrop, the question of the future of Venezuela’s oil industry takes on particular urgency. According to Bloomberg Línea, the Trump administration is receiving a 35% stake in North American Blue Energy Partners, or NABEP, as well as the right to purchase 20% of its output at cost. The company, linked to investor Alejandro Betancourt, has received 100-year rights to develop 17 Venezuelan oil fields.

For Caracas, this is both an opportunity to attract capital and technology and restore production, and a risk that part of the oil rent will be transferred to a structure over which Washington has direct influence. The agreements were signed in the presence of Venezuela’s acting president, Delcy Rodríguez, U.S. Energy Secretary Chris Wright, and representatives of Chevron, Eni, and GE Vernova. Rodríguez’s presence underscores the Venezuelan authorities’ desire to present the return of foreign companies as a path to an energy revival.

For a country where oil has for decades funded the budget, imports, social spending, and political stability, restoring the industry is about more than business. It is linked to economic survival. However, U.S. oil companies and industry experts have reacted cautiously to the NABEP arrangement. They fear that the agreement could crowd out other investors and reserve the most attractive assets for a player with special political status.

Kevin Book of ClearView Energy Partners notes: “When the government makes a capital investment in a private company, it has an incentive to protect that investment.” In his view, the key question is whether state participation will complement the private sector or compete with it. For Venezuela, this is critical: if the rules appear selective, opaque, and dependent on politics, long-term investors may choose other oil-producing regions.

Texas entrepreneur Bryan Sheffield also points to the lack of significant progress in negotiations over unconventional resources. “When you don’t feel valued or wanted… those involved in unconventional projects will simply move on to the next country,” he says. Venezuela’s economy needs not isolated high-profile deals, but a broad range of partners capable of restoring infrastructure, working with heavy oil, providing services and refining, and building stable production chains.

Historical associations further complicate the situation. Industry representatives compare the transfer of NABEP rights to possible “expropriation” of assets. This is a painful issue for Venezuela: earlier nationalizations and disputes with ConocoPhillips, ExxonMobil, and other companies have cemented the country’s reputation in international business as a place with high political and contractual risks. The new arrangement may be seen both as an opportunity to bring back investment and as a repetition of practices in which control over oil assets changes along with the political climate.

Chris Wright defends the agreement, pointing to the U.S. right to veto the appointment of NABEP’s board of directors and the requirement that most board members be American citizens. He promises “enormous benefits for the people of Venezuela and the people of the United States.” Yet this very structure intensifies the debate over sovereignty: to what extent will the anticipated benefits for Venezuelans be proportionate to external control over fields that are widely regarded as a national resource?

The theme of national dignity also appears in the Mexican media, although the published post by Radio Fórmula México is contradictory in its presentation. Its headline attributes the following response to Trump to journalist Juan Becerra Acosta: “Ya quisieran tener la riqueza que nosotros”—“They wish they had the wealth we have.” The phrase contrasts derogatory statements about Mexico with national pride and an emphasis on the country’s wealth, resources, culture, and economic potential.

However, the main text of the post is devoted not to a dispute with Trump, but to journalist Ciro Gómez Leyva and the consequences of the 2022 assassination attempt against him. “I lost the privilege of walking alone through my city and my country,” he says. The journalist’s acknowledgment that he still does not know who ordered the attack or whether the danger has passed reflects broader Mexican concerns about violence against the press and impunity. At the same time, his position is far from a call for revenge: “I will never celebrate anyone’s suffering.”

This example is important precisely because of its dual nature. The emotionally charged headline uses a patriotic framework in response to external pressure and disparaging rhetoric, while the text itself recalls the domestic problem of journalist safety. For Venezuela and other Latin American countries, both themes are familiar: the defense of sovereignty in foreign policy exists alongside debates about political polarization, violence, and space for independent criticism.

Taken together, these materials show that sanctions, oil agreements, and Washington’s public threats are perceived in the region as more than a set of diplomatic measures. For critics of American policy, sanctions become a symbol of economic coercion that harms citizens without guaranteeing the achievement of political goals. For Venezuela, oil deals promise the necessary restoration of the industry, but at the same time raise the question of who will exercise real control over its principal resource. And Mexico’s reaction reminds us that in Latin America, external pressure is often perceived not only as an economic threat, but also as a challenge to national dignity.