The United States has a long history of intervening in other nations’ affairs, from Cold War-era coups to post-9/11 military campaigns. Traditionally these interventions targeted adversarial regimes or unstable regions, but recent rhetoric and actions mark a striking shift. In the past few years, Washington has openly threatened or undertaken moves against a diverse set of countries – even close partners – in ways not seen in decades. For instance, U.S. officials under President Donald Trump have floated the annexation of allied territory, musing that Canada should become the “51st state” of the Union. Trump similarly asserted that the United States “must own Greenland,” an autonomous Danish territory, even suggesting forceful acquisition if necessary. Such statements go well beyond normal diplomacy, generating shock among friends and foes alike.

Crucially, the U.S. has also backed words with deeds against countries it views as threats. In June 2025, American forces bombed Iran’s nuclear facilities, with Trump authorizing airstrikes on three sites in Iran. Then in early 2026, the U.S. launched a surprise military operation in Venezuela: overnight airstrikes across Caracas decapitated the regime of Nicolás Maduro. In a dramatic raid, U.S. troops captured Venezuela’s president Maduro and flew him out of the country to face drug-trafficking charges in New York. The operation was unilateral and conducted without international sanction, prompting many observers to label it an abduction or “kidnapping” of a foreign head of state. These moves – threatening to redraw borders of friendly nations and toppling governments of weaker adversaries – have led the world to reassess American intentions. Other countries are now asking: Is the United States more prone to aggressive action against those who defy it? And if so, what might that mean for friend and foe alike?

NATO Allies: Unprecedented Alarm and Public Dissent

U.S. allies, particularly in NATO, have reacted with a mix of public alarm and private unease at Washington’s recent posture. The notion of America threatening the sovereignty of a neighbour or a fellow NATO member was once unthinkable – yet Canada and Denmark found themselves in exactly that position. When Trump repeatedly declared that the U.S. should annex Canada, the response in Ottawa was fury. Newly elected Canadian Prime Minister Mark Carney flatly rejected the idea, calling the annexation threats “crazy”. “We will never, ever, in any way, shape or form be part of the United States,” Carney insisted, reminding the world that “America is not Canada.” The rhetoric sparked an unprecedented outpouring of anger among Canadians and even drew sympathy from Europe. French President Emmanuel Macron pointed to Trump’s threat to make Canada the “51st state” as emblematic of an America now “sacrificing allies for the law of the strongest.” Such blunt language from Paris underscores how deeply NATO partners fear Washington’s new course.

The Greenland affair has been equally jarring. Denmark – one of America’s oldest NATO allies – was forced to contemplate a scenario where it might be attacked by the United States. Trump’s insistence that the U.S. “need(s)” Greenland and his refusal to rule out using military force to seize the Arctic island stunned Europeans. Danish leaders publicly warned that any U.S. military action against Greenland would be met with armed resistance. Prime Minister Mette Frederiksen cautioned that if Trump attempted to take Greenland by force, “it would be the end of NATO.” European officials echoed that warning: EU Defence Commissioner Andrius Kubilius noted that EU treaties oblige member states to aid Denmark if it faces aggression, and he agreed a U.S. takeover of Greenland would shatter the Atlantic Alliance. In remarks to Reuters, Kubilius questioned who would even recognise such an occupation and hinted at “painful negative consequences” for U.S.-European relations if Washington went rogue. The message from Europe was clear – an American attack on Danish territory is unthinkable and intolerable, and it would fundamentally undermine Western unity.

Even where NATO governments shared Washington’s goals, they balked at its methods. Many Western leaders despised Venezuela’s Maduro and Iran’s nuclear ambitions, yet they expressed discomfort at the U.S.’s unilateral force. Britain’s Prime Minister Keir Starmer, for example, welcomed the end of Maduro’s “illegitimate” regime and said the UK “shed no tears” over his downfall – but in the same breath he insisted “we should all uphold international law.” Other European allies issued similar nuanced responses: relief that a dictator was deposed, coupled with worry about the precedent of bypassing the UN Charter. France and Germany, in particular, signalled disapproval. Macron described the spectacle of America potentially invading Greenland or Canada as “the greatest disorder”, lamenting that the U.S. is “gradually turning away from some of its allies and freeing itself from the international rules.” Germany’s President Frank-Walter Steinmeier likewise warned that U.S. dominance in its hemisphere – from threats against Canada and Greenland to actions in Venezuela – reflects a troubling rejection of the very alliances and norms that underpinned global stability. Such statements hint at a breach of trust: traditional U.S. partners now openly wonder if Washington will honour its alliances or pursue narrow self-interest at allies’ expense.

Indeed, questions about U.S. reliability have surged within NATO. Analysts at The DEFCON Warning System have noted that America is “not as reliable an ally as it should be” in some circumstances. European defence planners are hedging bets. The Greenland crisis has spurred calls for greater strategic autonomy: Europe must be ready to defend itself “regardless of whether they could rely on U.S. help,” Kubilius observed. In practice this means higher defence spending and contingency plans for a scenario where the U.S. is either unwilling or at odds with Europe. Such planning was unthinkable in NATO’s golden years – now it seems prudent. Even Canada, long comfortably shielded by U.S. friendship, is reassessing assumptions. Former Canadian UN ambassador Bob Rae warned that Trump’s behaviour suggests Canada might literally be “on the menu” of Washington’s hemispheric plans. When allied nations start preparing for potential hostility from their own protector, it signifies a profound shift in perceptions of the United States.

Adversaries’ View: Fear, Condemnation, and Justification

U.S. adversaries have been unsurprisingly scathing in their reactions – but also calculating. From Moscow to Beijing to Pyongyang, leaders see recent U.S. actions as confirmation of a long-held narrative: that America is an aggressive hegemon that must be resisted. Russia’s government blasted the Venezuela intervention as an “act of armed aggression”, condemning the U.S. for violating a sovereign state’s territory. The Kremlin argued Washington trampled international law just as flagrantly as it accuses others of doing. In a pointed statement, Russia’s Foreign Ministry demanded the immediate release of Maduro and railed against the “unilateral” use of force. Officials in Moscow warned that Trump’s actions set a “dangerous precedent” – a precedent not lost on Vladimir Putin, who bitterly recalled planning his own lightning decapitation of Ukraine in 2022. “A surprise raid ending with capture of the country’s leader” was exactly how Putin imagined his war in Kyiv would go; instead, as one Russian commentator noted wryly, “it was Donald Trump who pulled it off in Venezuela.” The effectiveness of the U.S. strike – swift and decisive – elicited grudging respect among some pro-Kremlin voices, even envy. Russia’s top propagandist, Margarita Simonyan, openly said Moscow had reason to “be jealous” at how efficiently the Americans achieved in one night what Russia’s military failed to accomplish in four years in Ukraine.

Still, admiration is tempered by concern. Putin and his inner circle realise that Washington’s willingness to act “with impunity” against weaker states could someday threaten Moscow’s interests more directly. The Iran episode in 2025 particularly unnerved the Kremlin. When U.S. warplanes shattered Iran’s nuclear facilities in June, Russia – a nominal ally of Tehran – could do little beyond rhetorical bluster. Dmitry Medvedev sardonically remarked that Trump, who once styled himself a peacemaker, “has started a new war for the U.S.”, quipping that “with this kind of success, Trump won’t win the Nobel Peace Prize.” Behind the sarcasm lay a realisation: American force was applied without fear of Russian retaliation. In private, Russian strategists acknowledge their limited ability to project power outside their near-abroad, especially while bogged down in Ukraine. For Russia, the lesson is two-fold. First, nuclear deterrence remains its trump card – U.S. actions, however bold, have stopped short of tangling with any nuclear-armed foe. Second, the Kremlin can seize on U.S. “hypocrisy” to defend its own conduct. Already Moscow’s allies complain that if the West condemned Russia’s invasion of Ukraine but tolerates America’s strike in Caracas, it’s a blatant double standard. Slovakia’s Prime Minister Robert Fico (a pro-Russian voice in Europe) argued that either the U.S. attack on Venezuela must be condemned just like Russia’s war, or the West’s stance is “pharisaical.” The implication is clear: Russia will use the precedent of U.S. intervention to justify its own, claiming it too can act in “self-interest” regardless of international consent. This rhetorical ammunition helps Putin muddy the moral waters – for example, to counter Western criticism of Russia’s actions in Ukraine by pointing at Venezuela.

China’s reaction followed a similar script of outraged condemnation coupled with quiet calculation. Beijing was “deeply shocked” by the Venezuela operation, denouncing Washington for “recklessly using force against a sovereign state and targeting its president.” The Chinese Foreign Ministry stressed that the U.S. attack “seriously violated international law” and “threatened the peace and security of Latin America.” Beijing even demanded that the U.S. ensure Maduro’s safety and release him, pointedly standing on principle of sovereignty. This was despite Trump’s private confidence that Xi Jinping “would not take issue” with removing Maduro – a gross misreading of China’s position. In reality, Chinese officials publicly bristle at any U.S. military adventurism, which they see as bolstering American hegemony. Like Russia, China seized on the narrative of the U.S. as a neo-imperialist bully: “We never believe any country can play world policeman,” pronounced Chinese Foreign Minister Wang Yi, calling for adherence to the UN Charter. Beijing’s state media amplified images of U.S. cruise missiles and arrested presidents, driving home the point that no regime is safe from American aggression unless it has strong defences or powerful friends. Privately, Chinese strategists are likely weighing how U.S. assertiveness might play out in Asia. They do not expect an American invasion of Beijing or Pyongyang – nuclear arsenals remain the ultimate shield – but they do worry about U.S. military support for Taiwan or rapid strikes against Chinese interests. Every time Washington uses force unabashedly, China cites it as proof that U.S. promises of peaceful intent are hollow. This provides political cover for Beijing to ramp up its military and tighten its own alliances. Chinese commentators have even suggested that if Washington feels free to violate sovereignty when it sees fit, then China’s more assertive actions (for example, in the South China Sea or toward Taiwan) are comparatively justified – essentially “two can play that game.”

No country has been louder about American hostility than North Korea. To Pyongyang, the recent U.S. moves confirm everything the Kim regime has preached. The North’s Foreign Ministry lambasted the “rogue and brutal nature of the U.S.” after the Venezuela raid, calling it the “most serious form of encroachment of sovereignty” and a “wanton violation” of the UN Charter. A North Korean spokesperson decried Washington’s “high-handedness” and urged the international community to denounce America’s “habituated violation” of other countries’ sovereignty. Such rhetoric is hardly new – Pyongyang regularly brands the U.S. as an aggressive imperialist – but now they have fresh evidence to point to. Kim Jong-un will surely use the Iran and Venezuela examples to justify North Korea’s nuclear arsenal more vehemently. After all, U.S. forces have a pattern of overthrowing or attacking governments that lack nuclear deterrence (Iraq’s Saddam Hussein, Libya’s Muammar Gaddafi, and now potentially Maduro). North Korean media have explicitly drawn this lesson, noting that “the incident [Venezuela] clearly confirms once again” America’s aggressive habits. It reinforces Pyongyang’s message to its people: without our nuclear “treasured sword,” we could be next. In practical terms, the fear of U.S. intervention means North Korea is unlikely to ever disarm – in fact, it may double down on missile tests and military readiness. The irony is palpable: by acting tough with “weak” adversaries, Washington only convinces the truly dangerous ones to arm themselves to the teeth.

Other U.S. adversaries across the globe are reacting in kind. Iran’s leadership, reeling from the bombings, called the strikes a “grave violation of the UN Charter” and warned that such outrages “will have everlasting consequences.” Tehran’s resolve to fortify its security has only grown; any notion of trusting American promises in negotiations now seems fanciful. Cuba’s president Miguel Díaz-Canel angrily denounced the U.S. “criminal attack” on Venezuela as “state terrorism against Our America.” Venezuela’s remaining allies – from Bolivia to Nicaragua – likewise condemned what they see as a return of U.S. gunboat diplomacy in Latin America. These countries are invoking the spectre of past Yankee interventions to rally opposition to current U.S. moves. Even Belarus, closely aligned with Moscow, warned that America’s “armed aggression” is a “direct threat to international peace and security.” In forums like the United Nations, such states are citing U.S. actions as proof that global rules are applied selectively, and that might ultimately makes right. This narrative can serve to legitimise their own aggressive tendencies. For example, a nation like Iran or China could argue that if the U.S. can unilaterally strike a country “to protect its interests,” they too can resort to force in their spheres of influence under similar pretences. It’s a dangerous rationale, essentially eroding the normative barriers to war.

A More Unpredictable World?

The upshot of these developments is a palpable rise in global anxiety. U.S. allies fear not only external threats, but now must also consider the remote possibility of American coercion if their interests diverge. Adversaries, meanwhile, are feeling both cornered and vindicated – cornered in that the U.S. appears more willing to use force, and vindicated in their longstanding claims about American aggression. Do adversaries actually fear the U.S. might target them next? In one sense, yes: nations like North Korea or Iran plainly see that Washington is more prone to strike those who lack the means to hit back. This likely creates a deterrence paradox – only by developing stronger military capabilities (or aligning with powerful protectors) can they feel safe from American attack. On the other hand, major adversaries like Russia and China remain shielded by their nuclear arsenals and advanced forces. They do not fear invasion in the literal sense, but they do worry about the U.S. undermining their regional interests or smaller partners. The Kremlin watched a key ally in Caracas fall while it stood by helpless; Beijing saw a precedent for outside interference in a hemisphere where it has expanding stakes. Both will be recalibrating their strategies in response – whether that means shoring up vulnerable allies, accelerating armament programmes, or tightening mutual strategic bonds to deter U.S. pressure.

For U.S. allies, the aggressive turn in Washington’s policy poses a profound dilemma. Countries like Canada, Denmark, or Germany are having to reassure their publics that American bluster won’t translate to actual hostile actions against them – but contingency planning is underway, just in case. NATO as an institution faces strain: its leading member threatening another member’s territory (Greenland) is a scenario straight out of a dystopian satire. European diplomats have openly stated that NATO simply “will not exist” in its current form if such a fracture occurs. This could motivate Europe to invest more in independent defence capabilities – a trend already visible as many NATO countries boost military spending amid questions of U.S. commitment. In effect, America’s recent actions might spur the very “decoupling” of the alliance that Russia and China have long sought, unless trust can be rebuilt. Allies are not yet abandoning the U.S., but some, as in France’s case, are increasingly vocal that Europe must be prepared to stand up even to Washington in defence of international norms.

Finally, there is the risk that U.S. behaviour will be used to excuse other countries’ aggression, igniting a vicious cycle. Already we see smaller powers invoking the Venezuela case to reject Western criticism (e.g. Venezuela’s neighbours arguing the U.S. violated the same UN Charter breached by Russia in Ukraine). If this logic takes hold, a new era of great-power license may emerge: Beijing could feel freer to coerce Taiwan, Moscow might double-down in its neighbourhood – all claiming justification from the American example. “Everyday people wonder whether Greenland will be invaded, whether Canada will be under threat of becoming the 51st state, or whether Taiwan is to be further encircled,” President Macron observed grimly. His warning underscores the broader impact of U.S. actions on global psychology. Nations around the world – allies and adversaries alike – are recalculating their security based on an America that seems readier to ignore rules and project force when it sees fit. Some will respond with accommodation and rearmament; others with defiance and similar brazenness.