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A cartel war is an insane way to address fentanyl crisis

Hawks in Congress are clamoring to give Biden power he isn’t even asking for, making a mockery of congressional powers

Analysis | North America

There is a growing drumbeat in Congress in favor of authorizing the use of military force against Mexican drug cartels. 

Reps. Dan Crenshaw (R-Texas) and Michael Waltz (R-Fla.) introduced a resolution in the House earlier this year that would give the president broad authority to use force “against those responsible for trafficking fentanyl or a fentanyl-related substance into the United States or carrying out other related activities that cause regional destabilization in the Western Hemisphere.” 

In recent weeks, more members of Congress have expressed their support for using force against the cartels, including Sen. Lindsey Graham (R-S.C.) and Rep. Marjorie Taylor Greene (R-Ga). In a recent interview with Steve Bannon, Taylor Greene said, “The real drum we should be beating for war is the one against the Mexican cartels, because that’s the one I’m beating.” 

Military intervention against the cartels is a fundamentally unserious and reckless proposal that will not remedy any drug-related problems that our country has. At best, it is a bad answer to a real problem, and at worst it is a desperate exercise in distraction and demagoguery. Further militarization of the drug war is the worst thing that the U.S. could do. 

Using force against Mexican cartels might temporarily disrupt their operations, but any gains made would quickly be erased as new criminal organizations fill any voids that might be created. So long as there is demand in the U.S. for illicit narcotics, there are going to be criminal groups that will seek to control the trade. There is no military solution in other countries to the deep social maladies that afflict the United States. In that sense, calling for military intervention here is a classic example of reflexive “do somethingism.” It would be a misuse of the U.S. military and a waste of time and resources. 

Whatever form the intervention took, it would further contribute to the violence and instability that have wracked Mexico, and once it began it would be difficult to wind down. Despite more than twenty years of failed militarized counterterrorism, some members of Congress have concluded that this model should be applied to combating narcotrafficking. 

The U.S. needs a less militarized foreign policy in general, and it shouldn’t be looking for new tasks to give the military. As Reason’s Fiona Harrigan put it recently, “Combining the war on drugs with the war on terror is a recipe for an expensive and ineffective mess of foreign engagement.” 

The open-ended nature of this authorization would lead to a new endless war that would achieve nothing except to inflict more death and destruction in Mexico and possibly in other neighboring countries as well. The language of the authorization is so broad that it would give the president a blank check to use force anywhere in the hemisphere as long as it is somehow tenuously connected to this drug smuggling. Any administration that used the military for these purposes would be poisoning U.S. relations with Mexico and the rest of the hemisphere for a generation. 

Supporters of intervention have been agitating for a military option for some time. When Donald Trump was president, he entertained the possibility of labeling cartels terrorist organizations as a prelude to striking at them. In the end, the Trump administration didn’t follow through on these ideas in response to protests from the Mexican government, but the idea of targeting cartels with the U.S. military has been gaining in popularity among “populist” Republicans aligned with Trump ever since. 

Following up on Crenshaw and Waltz’s resolution, former Attorney General Bill Barr laid out a questionable legal case for intervention in The Wall Street Journal. Barr was attempting to get around the stubborn problem that the Mexican government has repeatedly denounced any suggestion of U.S. military intervention against the cartels, and his arguments weren’t very persuasive. 

When one of the Journal’s own columnists, Mary Anastasia O’Grady, criticized the proposed use of force as “insane,” Crenshaw wrote in to defend his resolution and to accuse O’Grady of distorting his position. “No one is talking about an invasion or a war with Mexico,” Crenshaw protested. 

Be that as it may, what Crenshaw can’t explain is how the U.S. would be conducting military operations in Mexico over the express objections of the Mexican government. He presents his resolution as a way of working alongside the Mexican military, but barring a radical change in the Mexican government’s position, there is no chance of any such cooperation. 

Supporters of intervention against the cartels tout the success of Plan Colombia as an example that what they are proposing can work, but they are wrong. As Daniel Raisbeck of the Cato Institute has explained, “Plan Colombia’s anti-narcotics element was an unqualified failure.” In the Colombian case, the U.S. had the cooperation of a partner government and it still didn’t work. U.S. military intervention is rarely successful at the best of times, and attempting to use the military to police drug cartels in defiance of the local government is sure to fail. 

There is no question that the Mexican government is opposed to the proposed intervention. Mexican President Andrés Manuel López Obrador has been adamant that Mexico will not tolerate any interference in its affairs. Calling the proposed military intervention “irresponsible” and an “offense to the people of Mexico,” López Obrador stated again earlier this month that his country must be respected. 

“We are not a protectorate of the United States or a United States colony,” he added. The anti-cartel resolution is a throwback to the worst periods in U.S.-Mexican relations when our government trampled on our neighbor’s sovereignty at will. If it passed, it would be a cause of intense resentment against the United States.

There is also a constitutional concern with the resolution. As a matter of principle, Congress should never again grant the president the sort of sweeping authority that it gave in the wake of the 9/11 attacks. This anti-cartel resolution is arguably even less limited and more prone to abuse than the 2001 AUMF. 

Even if the current administration wouldn’t act on this proposed AUMF, it would be like having a loaded gun lying around waiting for some future president to use it. Hawks in Congress are clamoring to give the president power that he isn’t even seeking, and that makes a complete mockery of Congress’ role in matters of war. We need Congress to be reining in the executive, not handing it more power. 

The influx of fentanyl into the country is a real problem, but it is not going to get better by using force outside our borders. The U.S. should be reckoning with the failure of the drug war and the tremendous damage that it has already done to many countries in Latin America, including Mexico. What Rep. Crenshaw and his allies propose would compound these earlier errors. 

The government should focus its efforts on curbing demand on our side of the border and funding treatment and rehabilitation services.  The U.S. is not going to kill its way out of its drug problems, and our government’s addiction to using force to respond to every problem needs to be brought under control.


Analysis | North America
Pedro Sanchez
Top image credit: Prime Minister of Spain Pedro Sanchez during the summit of Heads of State and Government of the European Union at the European Council in Brussels in Belgium the 26th of July 2025, Martin Bertrand / Hans Lucas via Reuters Connect

Spain's break from Europe on Gaza is more reaction than vision

Europe

The final stage of the Vuelta a España, Spain’s premier cycling race, was abandoned in chaos on Sunday. Pro-Palestinian protesters, chanting “they will not pass,” overturned barriers and occupied the route in Madrid, forcing organizers to cancel the finale and its podium ceremony. The demonstrators’ target was the participation of an Israeli team. In a statement that captured the moment, Spain’s Prime Minister Pedro Sánchez expressed his “deep admiration for the Spanish people mobilizing for just causes like Palestine.”

The event was a vivid public manifestation of a potent political sentiment in Spain — one that the Sánchez government has both responded to and, through its foreign policy, legitimized. This dynamic has propelled Spain into becoming the European Union’s most vocal dissenting voice on the war in Gaza, marking a significant break from the transatlantic foreign policy orthodoxy.

Sanchez’s support for the protesters was not merely rhetorical. On Monday, he escalated his stance, explicitly calling for Israel to be barred from international sports competitions, drawing a direct parallel to the exclusion of Russia over its invasion of Ukraine. “Our position is clear and categorical: as long as the barbarity continues, neither Russia nor Israel should participate in any international competition,” he said. This position, which angered Israel and Spanish conservatives alike, was further amplified by his culture minister, who suggested Spain should boycott next year’s Eurovision Song Contest if Israel participates.

More significantly, it emerged that his government had backed its strong words with concrete action, cancelling a €700 million ($825 million) contract for Israeli-designed rocket launchers. This move, following an earlier announcement of measures aimed at stopping what it called “the genocide in Gaza,” demonstrates a willingness to leverage economic and diplomatic tools that other EU capitals have avoided.

Sánchez, a master political survivalist, has not undergone a grand ideological conversion to anti-interventionism. Instead, he has proven highly adept at reading and navigating domestic political currents. His government’s stance on Israel and Palestine is a pragmatic reflection of his coalition that depends on the support of the left for which this is a non-negotiable priority.

This instinct for pragmatic divergence extends beyond Gaza. Sánchez has flatly refused to commit to NATO’s target of spending 5% of GDP on defense demanded by the U.S. President Donald Trump and embraced by NATO Secretary General Mark Rutte, citing budgetary constraints and social priorities.

Furthermore, Spain has courted a role as a facilitator between great powers. This ambition was realized when Madrid hosted a critical high level meeting between U.S. and Chinese trade officials on September 15 — a meeting Trump lauded as successful while reaffirming “a very strong relationship” between the U.S. and China. This outreach is part of a consistent policy; Sánchez’s own visit to Beijing, at a time when other EU leaders like the high representative for foreign policy Kaja Kallas were ratcheting up anti-Chinese rhetoric, signals a deliberate pursuit of pragmatic economic ties over ideological confrontation.

Yet, for all these breaks with the mainstream, Sánchez’s foreign policy is riddled with a fundamental contradiction. On Ukraine, his government remains in alignment with the hardline Brussels consensus. This alignment is most clearly embodied by his proxy in Brussels, Iratxe García Pérez, the leader of the Socialists and Democrats (S&D) group in the European Parliament. In a stark display of this hawkishness, García Pérez used the platform of the State of the Union debate with the EU Commission President Ursula von der Leyen to champion the demand to outright seize frozen Russian sovereign assets.

This reckless stance, which reflects the EU’s broader hawkish drift on Ukraine, is thankfully tempered only by a lack of power to implement it, rendering it largely a symbolic act of virtue signaling. The move is not just of dubious legality; it is a significant error in statecraft. It would destroy international trust in the Eurozone as a safe repository for assets. Most critically, it would vaporize a key bargaining chip that could be essential in securing a future negotiated settlement with Russia. It is a case of ideological posturing overriding strategic calculation.

This contradiction reveals the core of Sánchez’s doctrine: it is circumstantial, not convictional. His breaks with orthodoxy on Israel, defense spending and China are significant, but driven, to a large degree, by the necessity of domestic coalition management. His alignment on Ukraine is the path of least resistance within the EU mainstream, requiring no difficult choices that would upset his centrist instincts or his international standing.

Therefore, Sánchez is no Spanish De Gaulle articulating a grand sovereigntist strategic vision. He is a fascinating case study in the fragmentation of European foreign policy. He demonstrates that even within the heart of the Western mainstream which he represents, dissent on specific issues like Gaza and rearmament is not only possible but increasingly politically necessary.

However, his failure to apply the same pragmatic, national interest lens to Ukraine — opting instead for the bloc’s thoughtless escalation — proves that his policy is more a product of domestic political arithmetic than coherent strategic vision. He is a weathervane, not a compass — but even a weathervane can indicate a shift in the wind, and the wind in Spain is blowing away from unconditional Atlanticism.

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Top image credit: Metamorworks via shutterstock.com

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