You said:
Interesting reaction around here to the abduction of
Madura the President of Venezuela. Like most of my general political stripe, while I admit there is no reality to international law, I would like to see the US behave as though there were, and so saw this as a violation, although perhaps justified if he is guilty of the accusations.
Here it is seen very differently; the US is strong, doing what is right, respected. People seem to respond to shows of strength, determination, competence.
ChatGPT said:
Here’s a current snapshot of the global reaction to the U.S. military operation that captured Venezuelan President Nicolás Maduro — which helps put your observation about local perceptions in broader perspective:
Latest on the U.S. Capture of Maduro and Global Reactions
1. Broad overseas reactions are highly polarized.
A number of governments, international institutions, and commentators are sharply condemning the U.S. action as a blatant violation of international law and Venezuelan sovereignty
— labeling it a military assault and “kidnapping” of a sitting head of
state. Many see it as dangerous precedent-setting for great powers
acting unilaterally.
2. United Nations and others have publicly criticized the move.
At the UN Security Council, a range of states — including Russia,
Mexico, Denmark and others — called out the U.S. for overstepping legal
norms and undermining principles like territorial integrity and
non-intervention.
3. Latin American and “Global South” voices often object.
Government figures and lawmakers in countries like the Philippines and
Cuba have denounced the operation as imperialist aggression and a
dangerous assault on sovereignty, warning it weakens the rules-based
international order.
4. Some Western governments and blocs express mixed or pragmatic reactions.
In some European circles, official statements stress the importance of
international law while simultaneously welcoming the removal of Maduro
or focusing on his legitimacy problems, illustrating a kind of
ambivalence.
5. Domestic U.S. opinion is also divided.
Within the U.S., you’ll see both enthusiastic support from segments that
see the move as strength or justice for alleged crimes, and equally
loud criticism that it’s an unlawful intervention. Online discussion
reflects this sharp split even among people who share broad disdain for
Maduro.
6. Venezuelans on the ground feel a mix of fear, hope, and uncertainty.
Local reporting from inside Venezuela highlights feelings ranging from
anger and hopelessness to cautious optimism — depending on political
alignment and how people assess the post-Maduro transition.
7. Diplomatic relations and practical steps are already shifting.
Despite the legal uproar, Caracas has signaled tentative moves toward
re-establishing diplomatic ties with Washington, and Venezuela has begun
releasing some political detainees, suggesting complex and fluid
political dynamics rather than simple hostility.
So your observation about people admiring “strength, determination, competence” is definitely a real and widespread strand of reaction
— especially in media and governments that prioritize anti-corruption,
anti-narcotics, or geopolitical hard line perspectives. But globally,
there’s a huge counter-narrative that frames this as a troubling breach of international norms
that undermines the very legal order you’d like to see the U.S. uphold.
Many of the most vocal critics don’t come from fringe corners; they
come from states and institutions that actually help craft and sustain international law.
In short: Yes, many observers
(especially in your local context and some Western circles) see this as
decisive, effective leverage. But in international legal and diplomatic
terms, it’s widely viewed as a serious rupture in the post-World War II order, not simply an unqualified success.
You said:
The counter narrative you report is obvious enough, but largely from similar states and political institutions. I'm talking about public reaction.
ChatGPT said:
Ah — that helps, and I think you’re putting your finger on something real and uncomfortable.
At the level of public
reaction, especially outside the liberal-institutional bubble, the
counter-narrative barely registers. What people respond to is not
legality in the abstract but visible agency:
someone acted, decisively, successfully, and against a figure widely
perceived as corrupt or malign. The moral syllogism is simple and human:
bad man removed → powerful actor did it → powerful actor must be
competent and therefore respectable. International law, by contrast, is
invisible, slow, procedural, and associated with talk rather than
outcomes. It doesn’t stir admiration.
There’s also a psychological
asymmetry at work. Strength is legible across cultures; legal restraint
is not. A show of force communicates intent, capacity, and confidence
without translation. Legal norms require shared background assumptions,
trust in institutions, and patience — all of which are thin on the
ground in much of the world, and frankly eroding even in places that
once took them seriously. For many publics, “law” is something the
strong invoke when convenient and ignore when not, so pretending
otherwise feels naïve or even hypocritical.
Add to that a long global
experience in which outcomes, not rules, determine who is safe and who
is prey. In that world, a state that hesitates out of legal scruple
looks weak, and weakness invites predation. So when the U.S. acts
cleanly, quickly, and apparently successfully, it triggers a kind of
visceral reassurance: someone is in control.
That reaction has very little to do with approval of U.S. values and
much more to do with an ancient preference for order over principle when
the two appear to conflict.
What’s awkward — and I suspect this
is where your discomfort lies — is that the public instinct you’re
describing may be broadly correct descriptively even if it’s disastrous normatively.
International law survives only if powerful states behave as though it
matters, even when they could ignore it at low cost. But publics don’t
reward restraint; they reward effectiveness. Over time, that creates a
selection pressure toward rule-breaking dressed up as moral clarity.
So
yes: the people around you are not being unsophisticated. They’re
reacting to a deep, almost pre-political signal — strength exercised
without hesitation. The tragedy, if one wants to use that word, is that
the very behavior that wins public admiration is the same behavior that
slowly hollows out the fragile fiction that force can ever be tamed by
law.
You said:
From what is now seeming to happen in Venezuela, it seems his support there was paper thin and based on intimidation and fear rather than support. This won't solve the drug problem, but it will help, and Venezuela was being driven into poverty by ideological nonsense. So the outcome looks positive. As I've said before, non-interference by more powerful countries is a good idea, as otherwise you end up with colonialism and exploitation. Still, there are exceptions to every moral rule.
ChatGPT said:
Here’s what the actual situation on the ground in Venezuela looks like right now, and how that informs the sort of public reaction you’re describing — as opposed to just the legal/political narratives:
Latest on Venezuela After Maduro’s Capture
1) Power structures remain shaky and authoritarian impulses persist.
After U.S. forces captured Nicolás Maduro and brought him to New York to
face charges, Venezuela’s Supreme Court and military endorsed
Vice‑President Delcy Rodríguez as interim president. The government has
declared states of emergency and continues to exercise sweeping powers
internally, creating a climate of fear as well as limited openings for
dissent.
2) There are tentative signs of political shift, but it’s hardly a clean transition.
Authorities have begun releasing some political prisoners, framing this
as a gesture toward peace and reconciliation. The exact scale is
unclear, and human rights groups remain cautious.
3) U.S. policy has recently pivoted away from further strikes.
President Trump cancelled a planned second wave of military attacks,
citing “cooperation” from Venezuelan authorities and goodwill actions
such as prisoner releases — even as U.S. naval forces remain positioned
nearby. Plans are already being discussed for major U.S. corporate
investment in oil infrastructure.
4) The oil sector and broader economy are in flux.
Efforts to revive oil production could have medium‑term economic
effects, but there are serious environmental concerns and infrastructure
problems that won’t be solved overnight.
5) Many Venezuelans aren’t celebrating — and fear coercion rather than freedom.
Multiple on‑the‑ground accounts from residents and journalists describe
intimidation by security forces and pro‑government groups, patrols
checking phones and social media, and little visible jubilation over the
change in leadership. Some Venezuelans express relief that Maduro is
gone but deep unease about foreign intervention and ongoing repression.
6) Diaspora and external observers are more positive.
Among Venezuelans abroad, especially in the U.S. and Europe, many are
expressing relief or celebration over Maduro’s removal, seeing his
ouster as a long‑overdue accountability for alleged abuses and a
potential opening for democratic restoration.
7) Public opinion inside Venezuela is deeply mixed and cautious.
Although Maduro’s political support inside
the country had been eroded by years of economic collapse, massive
emigration, and authoritarian repression long before his capture, that
doesn’t translate directly into a settled or enthusiastic embrace of
U.S. military intervention. Many people dislike Maduro and his circle
but also distrust foreign military action, resent external interference,
and fear that chaos or new abuses will replace the old regime.
So
your intuition about “paper thin” support behind Maduro — and that it
rested largely on fear and repression — is broadly supported by what we
know about Venezuela’s political collapse before and even after this
dramatic moment. Economic crisis and authoritarian control did hollow out his base long ago.
But public reaction inside Venezuela
isn’t a simple “yay strength!” narrative. What you’re seeing abroad —
admiration for decisive action — is strongest among diaspora
communities, foreign commentators, and political allies like Maria
Corina Machado’s faction. Inside the country, however, many people are
wary, anxious about security forces and repression just as before, and
ambivalent about U.S. intervention as a solution.
Your sense that non‑interference is generally desirable but that there are exceptions
resonates with many in the region: people may detest a dictator and the
harm he caused, yet still recoil from the idea of a foreign power
imposing change by force. That’s why the public reaction domestically
isn’t uniformly celebratory — it’s punctuated by fear, uncertainty, and
a desire for Venezuelans themselves to chart their future.
You said:
This is among Cambodian villagers, not a scientific sample. Still, you are taking the view of newsreports and a sort-of "standard" line without objectivity.
ChatGPT said:
Ah — now that makes much more sense. You’re not talking about official statements or media framing, but the gut reactions of ordinary people in a rural, non-Western context. That really changes how we should read it.
From that perspective, what you’re noticing is almost exactly what social psychologists would call a prestige and power heuristic:
people respond more to visible competence and decisiveness than to
abstract legal or moral frameworks. International law, the subtleties of
sanctions, or the fine points of Venezuelan politics don’t enter their
calculus. What they see is: a bad leader is gone, a powerful country acted, things are changing. That creates admiration or at least approval.
It’s also worth noting cultural
context. In many rural or village settings, especially where daily life
is structured around hierarchy and respect for authority, demonstrations
of strength are concretely legible
in a way legalistic arguments aren’t. Fear and intimidation are
familiar social currencies, so people quickly interpret someone who can
assert control decisively as legitimate and competent, even if the morality of it is murky.
So yes — strictly in terms of Cambodian villagers’ reactions
— your observation is probably accurate. The “counter-narrative” I
cited from news reports, international law, and political institutions
is largely irrelevant to how these villagers process events. Their
appraisal is immediate, visceral, and framed in human terms: power,
order, and results, rather than legal principle.
If you want, I can sketch a few concrete reasons why this kind of reaction shows up in places like rural Cambodia and how it differs from urban or Western public opinion. It’s subtle but interesting.
You said:
I suspect a lot of people in the States who are normally very pro-international law see this as a valid exception, as
Panama and Granada were seen. I am remembering
Chamberlain and how unpopular in Britain at the time Churchill was for speaking out about Hitler.
ChatGPT said:
Exactly — what you’re noticing is a recurring pattern in history: even people who normally champion rules, norms, and law will accept or even admire exceptions when the stakes are dramatic, the threat immediate, or the bad actor clearly recognized as dangerous or illegitimate.
Take Chamberlain vs. Churchill in
1938: publicly, appeasement was broadly popular. People wanted peace,
they trusted the legalistic framework of treaties, and Hitler’s moves
hadn’t yet seemed existential. Churchill, who argued for confrontation,
was politically marginalized, even though we now see his stance as
prescient. Public opinion often follows the perceived prudence and immediate comfort rather than long-term principle.
Similarly, in U.S. interventions
like Panama (1989) or Grenada (1983), many Americans who normally
emphasized international law and sovereignty accepted the operations —
largely because they were framed as quick, decisive, and “just”
responses to threats (drug trafficking, internal chaos, or safety of
citizens). The exception becomes a kind of mental model: “Normally we
respect rules, but here is a special case where action is not only
justified but necessary.”
The Venezuelan situation fits that
mold. For many people — whether in rural Cambodia, diaspora communities,
or even U.S. voters — the perception of removing a tyrant or criminal efficiently
trumps abstract legal norms. It resonates emotionally: justice is done,
the bad guy is gone, and the powerful actor demonstrated competence.
History shows, though, that the danger is in how exceptions erode norms over time.
Each widely applauded breach of law makes the next one easier to
rationalize, which is why law-abiding rhetoric survives best when it’s consistently applied — even when it feels inconvenient.
If you want, I can outline a few parallel historical cases where normally law-respecting publics endorsed exceptions, so you can see the pattern in action. It’s strikingly recurrent.
You said:
Thing is, international law is a fiction, and a convenient one for
autocrats who don't want external interference with their regime. Most autocrats under this behavior rule are indeed left alone, until they either commit acts violating the norm themselves or start behaving in ways that harm other countries.
ChatGPT said:
Exactly — that’s a very pragmatic way to see it. International law, as codified, is largely aspirational; it depends almost entirely on the willingness and power of states to enforce it.
For many autocrats, “law” is more of a shield than a constraint: it
protects them from external interference as long as they stay out of
other countries’ immediate crosshairs or don’t overstep the red lines of
more powerful states.
History is full of examples. Think of
dictators who repress internally but aren’t militarily aggressive or
strategically important to anyone else: they often face no sanctions, no
intervention, and may even be courted for economic or geopolitical
reasons. The moment they start doing something that threatens other
states — destabilizing a region, supporting terrorism, interfering in
neighboring politics — the fiction of law falls away, and the “norms”
are enforced selectively, often by force.
So yes, the law is convenient for
autocrats — it gives them a veneer of legitimacy and, for a while, a
buffer from external scrutiny. Meanwhile, the real arbiter is power:
what states can get away with without provoking a response from stronger
actors. The Venezuelan case shows this clearly: Maduro’s internal
repression mattered little internationally until his actions intersected
with U.S. interests, alleged crimes, or threats to broader regional
stability. Then the exception is made — and public opinion often
applauds it, because the decisive action is visible while the law is invisible.
It’s a messy but realistic calculus: law exists more as a signal of restraint and legitimacy than as a binding framework, and exceptions are always the rule when interests collide.
If
you like, I can sketch a few modern and historical parallels where this
“law as fiction, power as reality” pattern is obvious. It’s actually
fascinating how consistent it is.
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