TEHRAN – U.S. President Donald Trump’s decision to order a “total and complete” blockade of sanctioned Venezuelan oil tankers marks one of the most dangerous escalations in Washington–Caracas relations. While the Trump administration presents the move as a sanctions enforcement action, the reality is far more serious: the use of military force to control another country’s trade, outside international law and without global consent.

In international practice, a naval blockade is widely understood as an act of war. Trump’s announcement, made through social media rather than diplomatic or legal channels, openly declares that U.S. naval forces are surrounding Venezuela and preventing oil tankers from entering or leaving its ports. Calling it something else does not change its nature. Blocking a country’s exports by force is not routine policy pressure; it is coercion backed by weapons.

The U.S. administration claims the blockade is justified by allegations of terrorism, drug smuggling, and human trafficking. Recently, U.S. forces intercepted the Skipper oil tanker off Venezuela’s coast and transported it to Texas to unload its oil. From a legal and analytical standpoint, this looks less like law enforcement and more like the seizure of another state’s commercial property.

Venezuela’s response has been to turn to the United Nations, formally denouncing the seizure as an act of state piracy. This framing is not rhetorical excess. Using military power to take oil that belongs to another UN member state undermines the basic rules governing international trade and maritime security. If such actions become normalized, no country’s commercial shipping is truly safe.

The blockade also comes amid an expanding U.S. military presence in the Caribbean and nearby waters. Since early September, U.S. forces have killed at least 90 people in attacks on vessels near Venezuela, actions Washington claims are part of drug-interdiction operations. Experts have warned that the operations may amount to extrajudicial killings, especially given the lack of evidence made public by Washington. The stated justification of drug interdiction increasingly appears to be a cover for military pressure rather than a genuine law enforcement campaign.

At the center of this confrontation lies oil. Venezuela holds the world’s largest proven oil reserves, yet U.S. sanctions have severely restricted its ability to sell its crude, deepening economic hardship for ordinary Venezuelans. At the same time, Washington has allowed a clear exception: tankers linked to U.S. oil company Chevron continue to export Venezuelan oil under special authorization. This selective enforcement exposes a deep contradiction. If the issue were truly legality or security, exemptions for favored corporations would make little sense.

From Caracas’ perspective, the message is clear. The blockade is not about democracy, human rights, or fighting crime. It is about control — who is allowed to access Venezuela’s resources and on whose terms. President Nicolas Maduro’s warning about “piracy and oil plunder” reflects this reality, especially in light of the forced sale of Venezuelan assets abroad, including the U.S.-based oil company Citgo.

Trump’s approach risks more than bilateral tension. By sidelining Congress at home and the United Nations abroad, the U.S. sets a precedent that certain powerful states can impose blockades, seize assets, and kill suspects at sea without transparent legal process. This weakens the international system the U.S. itself helped build.

The blockade looks less like a targeted policy tool and more like gunboat diplomacy revived for the 21st century. It threatens escalation, invites international backlash, and deepens Venezuela’s suffering without offering a credible path to stability. In trying to strangle Venezuela’s economy, Washington may instead be strangling the rules that keep global conflict in check.