In a move that has left the world's diplomatic cocktail parties suitably aflutter, the United States has terminated the earthly tenure of a Venezuelan gang leader via a precision airstrike. The Pentagon, in a statement that sounded suspiciously like it was written by a PR firm that handles both cruise missiles and energy drinks, confirmed that the operation was a 'decisive counter-terror action'. The UK, ever the loyal terrier to the American elephant, promptly issued a statement praising this 'bold step' while carefully avoiding any mention of the word 'sovereignty'.
Let us, for a moment, dissect this theatrical production. The US, a nation that has spent the better part of a century practicing the art of 'shoot first, ask questions while reloading', has once again demonstrated that its foreign policy manual is essentially a Rex Stout novel with the last chapter torn out. The target was a gentleman referred to as 'El Bicho' or 'The Bug', which sounds less like a gang leader and more like a character from a discarded Roald Dahl draft. He was allegedly responsible for enough mayhem to fill a season of 'Narcos', but one must wonder: is airstrike the new LinkedIn for job terminations in the underworld?
The timing, as always, is impeccable. Just as the world was beginning to forget that Venezuela exists (besides the occasional reminder that it has the world's largest oil reserves and a government that seems to be running a controlled experiment on the limits of human suffering), along comes a precision strike to remind us that the US has not forgotten. No, the US remembers. It remembers that there are still bad guys to bomb, and by God, they will bomb them with the same enthusiasm that a British tabloid reserves for a royal scandal.
And the UK. Dear, sweet, Brexit-battered UK. Our government, which can barely organise a train timetable, has found the time to applaud this act of extrajudicial transoceanic violence. The Foreign Office, in a statement perfumed with the scent of subservience, said: 'We support our allies in taking necessary action to protect global security.' Global security, you see, is a flexible concept. It can mean anything from 'stopping a gang leader who might have been planning to export chaos' to 'we really need to stay on the right side of Washington for that trade deal'.
One cannot help but chuckle at the sheer audacity of the whole affair. Here we have a country that cannot secure its own borders from the whims of a weather system (Hurricane Whatshisname) deciding that the solution to a foreign criminal is a missile. It is the foreign policy equivalent of using a flamethrower to light a cigarette. But who are we to judge? The British Empire was built on similar logic and look at us now, applauding from the sidelines while our teeth rot from the sugar of American approval.
The real question, however, is what happens to the power vacuum left by The Bug's dramatic exit? In the world of organised crime, a vacancy is not filled by a sober HR department. It is filled by someone more violent, more cunning, and with a better Instagram account. Perhaps the next leader will be known as 'The Flea' or 'The Termite'. The cycle continues, because as any student of history (or viewer of 'The Wire') knows, you cannot bomb an ideology. You can only blow up its current spokesperson.
So here's to the US for once again proving that the best way to solve a problem is to create a larger one. And here's to the UK for providing the moral support, the verbal applause, and the quiet hope that maybe, just maybe, this time it will work. It won't, of course. But in the theatre of the absurd that is modern geopolitics, a standing ovation is always appreciated.
