A Week in Politics #1

Nicolás Maduro (Photo: BBC)

This piece marks the first instalment of what I intend to be a regular weekly reflection on the news — a look at what has happened, why it matters, and where it might lead.

The US Capture of Nicolás Maduro: When Law Is Treated as Optional

The reported capture of Nicolás Maduro by the United States is an event that should chill anyone who takes international law seriously. Let me be clear from the outset: I have little sympathy for Maduro himself. His government has presided over repression, economic ruin, and the hollowing out of Venezuela’s democratic institutions. That record is real, and it matters.

But how we respond to tyrants also matters.The question is not simply what happens, but how it happens. Tomorrow’s crises are born from today’s solutions.

International law is not a decorative extra, something to be invoked when convenient and ignored when not. It exists precisely to constrain the arbitrary use of power by states - especially powerful ones. If we abandon those constraints when it suits us, we set precedents that will be used by others, in circumstances we will like far less. 

The apparent extraterritorial seizure of Maduro raises profound legal and moral questions. Was there due process? Was there a mandate grounded in international law? Or are we witnessing, once again, the logic that might makes right, dressed up as moral urgency? If the United States believes Maduro has committed crimes, the correct forum is an international court, not a unilateral operation that undermines the very legal architecture designed to deal with such cases.

This is why the hypocrisy of Donald Trump is so galling. Trump has framed this action as a blow against narco-authoritarianism, yet he previously pardoned Juan Orlando Hernández, a former Honduran president widely described - including by US prosecutors - as a “narco-dictator”. The contrast is not subtle. It suggests that principle has little to do with this decision, and expediency has everything to do with it.

We should therefore be deeply suspicious of Trump’s motivations. He has already alluded to Venezuela’s oil reserves, and it would be naïve in the extreme to ignore the long history of resource-driven interventions in Latin America. When economic self-interest is combined with contempt for international norms, the result is rarely stability, democracy or justice. More often, it is chaos - followed by decades of resentment. As María Corina Roldán Robles, a Venezuelan political analyst,observes, "oil cannot be the organising principle of a political transition,”

What is especially troubling is the rhetoric now circulating in defence of this action. We are told that criticism amounts to “liberals supporting dictators”; yesterday Conservative leader Kemi Badenoch hit out at "people who yesterday couldn't find Venezuela on a map" - a not so subtle suggestion that those of us who believe that international law matters are stupid. This is a grotesque falsehood, but also a familiar one. It echoes the moral blackmail deployed during the Iraq War, when opposition to an illegal invasion was framed as sympathy for Saddam Hussein. That logic led to catastrophic consequences then, and it is no sounder now.

Huge questions remain to be answered about what happens next. What is clear is that Trump is no friend of the opposition that claim it was denied victory in the 2024 election. He has already stated that Nobel Peace Prize winner Maria Corina Machado (who was cynically barred from standing in the election) lacks the "support and respect" in Venezuela to take power. If she doesn't, then who does? He has also overlooked Edmundo González Urrutia, who the UN recognised the rightful president.

The capture of Maduro is fraught with risks, including regional instability, fragmentation and power struggles.  The potential for encouragement of copycat actions by other states is something that cannot be ignored.

Iran’s Protests: Courage in the Streets

The protests in Iran continue to demonstrate extraordinary courage. Ordinary Iranians - particularly women and young people - are confronting a repressive state with a bravery that deserves unqualified admiration. Their demands for freedom, dignity, and democratic accountability are not Western impositions; they are universal human aspirations.

I am unequivocally supportive of the protesters’ objectives. The Islamic Republic of Iran is a theocratic authoritarian system that systematically crushes dissent and denies basic rights. Few would mourn its passing.

And yet, supporting the protesters does not absolve us of thinking carefully about what comes next — or about how external actors influence events on the ground.

Here again, Donald Trump looms large. His threats toward Iran, delivered with characteristic bombast, raise a serious question: is he helping the protesters, or endangering them? Authoritarian regimes thrive on external enemies. They use foreign threats to delegitimise domestic opposition, branding protesters as agents of hostile powers. Trump’s rhetoric risks playing directly into that narrative.

Regime change imposed from outside rarely delivers genuine liberation. Sustainable change must come from within, supported - not commandeered - by the international community. That support should focus on protecting human rights, amplifying Iranian voices, providing asylum where necessary, and applying multilateral pressure through lawful means.

The protesters deserve solidarity, not sabre-rattling. Their courage should inspire us to act wisely, not recklessly.

New Year, Same Old Problems for Keir Starmer

As the new year begins, the UK finds itself led by a Prime Minister who looks increasingly unconvincing. Keir Starmer, a former lawyer, seems curiously unable or unwilling to articulate a principled defence of international law at a moment when it is under sustained assault.

This is not a government defined simply by outright incompetence. It is something subtler and perhaps more damaging: paralysis. Decisions are endlessly deferred, positions hedged, language drained of conviction. The result is an administration that appears incapable of making choices, let alone inspiring confidence.

On the world stage, this manifests as evasiveness. At home, it looks like managerial drift. Starmer’s legal background makes this all the more frustrating. If even a former Director of Public Prosecutions cannot clearly defend the rule of law, what message does that send out?

Britain needs leadership that is principled, decisive, and outward-looking. Instead, we have a government that seems perpetually afraid of its own shadow.

Justice Delayed, Justice Diminished

The announcement that thousands of new magistrates are needed to “clear the backlog” in England and Wales should prompt a deeper question: how did we reach this point?

Years of underfunding, court closures and political neglect have left the system overstretched and demoralised. Recruiting volunteers to plug the gaps is presented as a solution, but it is really an admission of failure.

Of course, volunteers have always played a huge role in British justice - the most obvious example being jurors. It is therefore deeply troubling that David Lammy is moving to curtail jury trials. This risks undermining public participation in justice precisely when trust is already fragile. 

A Liberal Democrat vision of justice would be properly funded, locally accessible, and rooted in community participation - not dependent on last-minute fixes. Justice should be timely, fair, and humane. Anything less erodes faith in the rule of law itself.

Mike Nesbitt and the Future of the Ulster Unionists

The decision by Mike Nesbitt to stand down as leader of the Ulster Unionist Party is understandable. His reasons - mainly that he only saw himself as a short-term leader - deserve respect.

Nesbitt sought to modernise unionism, to make it outward-looking and more inclusive. That he struggled says less about him than about the structural challenges facing his party. The UUP has lost ground to both harder-line unionists and cross-community alternatives, leaving it squeezed and uncertain of its purpose.

The question now is what comes next. Can the party rediscover a distinctive voice, or will it continue to drift? In a Northern Ireland that is changing demographically and politically, relevance is not guaranteed by history alone. It must be earned.