When empires smile at each other’s madness by John Reid

There is a particular kind of silence that follows the first missiles of a war that everyone pretends was inevitable. It is the silence of diplomats suddenly “unreachable” of analysts scrambling to sound surprised, of allies staring at their phones wondering when exactly they lost control of the narrative. Imagine that silence settling over the Caribbean as U.S. forces attack and occupy Venezuela without provocation, wrapped in the usual language of “security,” “stability,” and “temporary necessity.” Now imagine Vladimir Putin watching it unfold, leaning back with a satisfied smile. Not because he cares deeply about Venezuela, but because nothing validates his worldview more than watching Washington do exactly what it condemns.

In this scenario, the hypocrisy is not a bug. It is the feature. The United States storms into yet another sovereign country confident that outrage will burn hot and then cool that headlines will move on, that sanctions will remain selectively moral. Putin doesn’t need to intervene. He doesn’t need to shout. He just needs to point, quietly, and let the images circulate. Every tank rolling through Caracas becomes a talking point in Moscow, Beijing, and every capital already tired of lectures about international law delivered from the barrel of a gun.

But the real entertainment, the kind that comes with popcorn and a front-row seat, begins later. It begins when Donald Trump, returning from ...Venezuela, with his familiar mix of bravado and grievance decides that Greenland should finally be taken seriously, not as an ally’s territory but as a prize. Not purchased politely, not negotiated slowly but invaded swiftly under the banner of “strategic necessity.” In one reckless stroke, the rules are not merely bent; they are shattered in full view of those who once believed they were protected by proximity, history, and shared values.

This is where the smile widens in the Kremlin. Because an invasion of Greenland is not just another illegal war; it is a betrayal written in bold letters. NATO allies would wake up to discover that the danger was never “out there” but embedded within the alliance itself. Friends would find themselves caught with their pants down, stunned that the red line they assumed existed was imaginary. And Putin, watching the chaos wouldn’t need to lift a finger. The West would be doing his work for him.

The tragedy here is not that strongmen enjoy watching other strongmen stumble. That has always been the case. The tragedy is how predictably this collapse unfolds when power replaces principle. For decades, the United States has insisted that its interventions are different. Cleaner. Necessary. Reluctant. Yet every bomb dropped without consequence erodes that claim. Venezuela becomes just another example filed away by leaders who no longer believe in the rules-based order because the rules were never consistently applied.

Trump invading Greenland would be the final punchline. It would confirm what critics have argued for years, that alliances under the wrong leadership are transactional illusions. That shared values can be overridden by ego. That treaties mean little when they stand in the way of spectacle. The shock wouldn’t come from adversaries. It would come from allies realizing they had been cast as extras in someone else’s reality show.

Putin’s satisfaction in such a moment would not be emotional; it would be strategic. Every fracture within NATO is a victory without cost. Every confused press conference in Europe is proof that the West’s moral authority has evaporated. Russia wouldn’t need to expand its influence aggressively; it would simply wait as the vacuum forms. Power, after all flows naturally toward absence.

And what of the global audience? They would watch this unraveling with a mix of cynicism and fatigue. Many already believe that international law is a slogan, not a shield. Seeing Venezuela occupied and Greenland invaded would not radicalize them; it would confirm their suspicions. The message would be unmistakable, sovereignty is conditional, alliances are fragile and the loudest country in the room sets the rules until it decides to break them.

This is not an argument about left or right, Democrat or Republican. It is an argument about restraint and memory. Empires fall not only because they are challenged, but because they forget why others once followed them. The smile on Putin’s face would not be about Russia’s strength. It would be about America’s willingness to abandon the very standards it once claimed to defend.

And when the popcorn is finished, when the laughter fades, the cost will remain. Not paid by presidents or generals, but by a world that has learned, yet again that chaos is contagious and that watching it happen is far easier than stopping it.