As the year opened with a jolt, Washington’s hard turn on Venezuela—an assertive posture that critics abroad cast as a violation of international law and a potential spark for a wider conflagration—triggered a familiar question: why do so many Americans support it? At the same time, former President Donald Trump revived interest in the fantastical notion of acquiring Greenland, an echo of past U.S. territorial expansions. Despite alarmed headlines and warnings of “World War III,” new polling shows a significant bloc of Americans endorsing a tougher line on foreign entanglements—especially when framed as protecting the homeland from narcotics and unlawful migration.
Polls Reveal a Country Split—but Not Where You Might Expect
An AP-NORC poll conducted January 8–13 found that 56% of respondents believe Trump’s approach to military intervention overseas goes too far. Yet the picture is more nuanced: 35% said such interventions are appropriate and 8% said they do not go far enough. In other words, roughly 43% of Americans—the high end of a stable plurality—lean positive on Trump’s readiness to use force. The partisan divide is stark. Among Democrats, 86% view the interventions as excessive; among Republicans, only 18% say the same, while 71% call them appropriate. On America’s involvement in world affairs more broadly, nearly half of Democrats and independents want less engagement, while 64% of Republicans say current levels are appropriate—up from 55% in September, signaling a consolidation of support on the right for a more muscular posture.
Greenland: A Hard No from the Public
The Greenland idea remains deeply unpopular. A Reuters/Ipsos survey found just 17% of Americans support acquiring the island, while 47% oppose taking it by force and 35% say they are unsure. Only 4% say using the U.S. military to seize Greenland from Denmark is a good idea. Not a single Democrat polled backed the notion; even among Republicans, only about one in ten did. Territorial ambition may be a recurring theme in American history, but the public shows scant appetite for revisiting it in this way.
Why the Venezuela Hard Line Resonates
For many Americans, the through-line is security. Trump for years accused Venezuela of facilitating the flow of illegal drugs and aiding unlawful migration into the United States—arguments that resonated amid a surge of fentanyl-linked deaths and persistent border anxiety. In the AP-NORC polling, 53% said decisive action over Venezuela helps curb the influx of illegal drugs. Supporters, including influential social media voices such as comedian Terrence Williams, frame the issue in blunt terms: “I support President Trump. I trust our commander in chief. Keeping America safe comes first.”
That sentiment echoes across conservative social platforms. Admiring posts praised Trump for “acting in Venezuela to protect American workers’ families from fentanyl and cocaine” and described the move against what they label a “narco-terror regime” as overdue. Some invoked the U.S. designation of the “Cartel de los Soles”—an alleged network linked by U.S. officials to Venezuelan power brokers—as justification for naval deployments and stern warnings, arguing that flooding U.S. streets with lethal drugs is “not just crime; it is an act of war.”
Liberation Versus Intervention
Backers also cast the policy through a moral lens—freeing Venezuelans from repression. Rep. Maria Elvira Salazar, a Republican from Florida and Cuban-American broadcaster-turned-lawmaker, told CNN that Trump “is doing exactly what the people of Venezuela are asking for—standing with them, supporting their fight to reclaim freedom, and confronting Maduro’s oppression so they can win back their future.” Even some non-Trump conservatives voiced conflicted approval. Sen. Rand Paul expressed “deep disappointment” on non-interventionist grounds, yet added that “of course there is satisfaction in seeing a dictator leave the stage.” On X, users who said they were not Trump supporters nonetheless credited him for “helping lead Venezuela toward liberation,” describing an economy in collapse where many could barely afford food. This moral narrative—rescue from tyranny—has long carried weight in American opinion, particularly when paired with a domestic-security argument.
The American Hero Archetype
Culture matters too. Hollywood has spent decades burnishing the image of the warrior president: Harrison Ford battling terrorists in Air Force One; Morgan Freeman calmly shepherding humanity through an extinction threat in Deep Impact; Bill Pullman rallying the planet against an alien invasion in Independence Day. The storyline is simple and seductive: decisive leadership, clear enemies, national salvation. Against that backdrop, a commander in chief pledging to shield Americans from drugs, disorder, and foreign-backed networks can look like a hero to millions—even when critics see the same posture as reckless brinkmanship.
History’s Long Shadow
Supporters reach back to the Monroe Doctrine and the expansionist 19th century for vindication. President James K. Polk’s war against Mexico altered the map of North America, delivering California, New Mexico, Arizona, and Nevada to the United States. The Spanish-American War pushed European power from parts of the Western Hemisphere and put Puerto Rico under the U.S. flag. Modern advocates cite the 1803 Louisiana Purchase and the 1867 Alaska Purchase as examples of contested decisions that history later vindicated. Sen. Ted Cruz has argued that, while such acquisitions were derided in their time, they proved transformative. Trump himself, in his inaugural address, extolled the United States as a nation that grew by “building wealth and expanding territory.” That frontier spirit—combined with an ingrained sense of “fairness”—still animates parts of the electorate. Trump’s critique that America bankrolls global security and tolerates chronic trade imbalances taps a feeling that the U.S. has been treated unfairly—and should play hardball to reset the terms.
Does Force Fix the Drug Problem?
There are serious caveats. Experts note that narcotics pipelines are resilient, shifting through multiple countries and leveraging porous borders and sophisticated finance. Fentanyl and precursor chemicals frequently originate in Asia, are processed or transshipped through Latin America, and move via complex logistics that do not collapse easily under military pressure alone. Lasting impact typically requires demand reduction, financial sanctions, intelligence-led interdiction, and close coordination with partners across the hemisphere. Even among Americans sympathetic to a crackdown, this reality tempers expectations about what any single intervention can achieve.
International Law, Risk, and the Cost of Miscalculation
Legal and diplomatic risks are real. Harsh measures invite allegations of violating sovereignty and can trigger retaliatory moves by adversaries aligned with Caracas. Missteps could roil energy markets, drive migration surges, and strain U.S. relations with European and Latin American partners. The polling shows a public that is both wary of overreach and receptive to action when framed around clear threats—an ambivalence that can swing quickly with events on the ground.
What It Means for Japan and the Indo-Pacific
For Japan, a steadfast ally that champions a rules-based international order, these American cross-currents matter. Tokyo’s strategic interest lies in a U.S. that is both resolute and predictable—strong enough to deter coercion in the Indo-Pacific and disciplined enough to uphold international law. If Washington devotes bandwidth to the Western Hemisphere, it must still sustain focus on maritime security and deterrence in East Asia, where Japan’s security environment grows more severe. The U.S.-Japan alliance thrives when American public support for engagement is grounded in clear objectives, lawful frameworks, and allied consultation. Japan has long demonstrated that principled diplomacy, economic statecraft, and capable defense can coexist. In that sense, Tokyo can be a stabilizing partner as Washington navigates domestic pressures to “get tough” while avoiding strategic overreach.
The Bottom Line
Nearly half of Americans give Trump latitude on Venezuela because the case fuses two potent narratives: defend the homeland from lethal drugs and stand up to a dictatorial regime. Culture, history, and a sense of aggrieved fairness reinforce the impulse. But the same polls underscore caution—majorities recoil from open-ended adventures and reject outlandish ideas like seizing Greenland by force. The debate is far from settled, and as ever, events will shape opinion. In the next part of this series, we examine another uncomfortable thread in U.S. attitudes: why a sizeable minority still justifies the atomic bombing of Japan—and what that reveals about America’s enduring faith in coercive power.
(Reporting by Makiko Iizuka)
