Video: Why is declaring war on Mexican cartels so popular?
A growing number of Republicans have called for military action to address the fentanyl crisis. A new video from the Quincy Institute explores what is behind this idea.
The idea of going to war with Mexican cartels to address the fentanyl crisis has been growing in popularity among Republican members of Congress and GOP presidential candidates this year.
QI’s Adam Weinstein spoke to journalist and author Ioan Grillo on why the idea of declaring war on Mexican drug cartels has gained steam in Washington but why it won’t solve the crisis.
Grillo, who is the author of three books including 2021’s Blood Gun Money: How America Arms Gangs and Cartels, says those proposing military action have that right diagnosis. “They’re right when they say the fentanyl problem is a really serious, severe problem that should be at the top of the political agenda,” he says. “There is a really serious organized crime in Mexico and they are working with corrupt government officials.”
However, warns Grillo, “where they’re wrong, and very seriously wrong, is you can’t simply send in a couple drones and send in a couple American military and solve this. It just doesn’t work strategically. “
In January, Reps. Dan Crenshaw (R-Texas) and Mike Waltz (R-Fla.) introduced an Authorization for the Use of Military Force against the cartels. A number of Senators have endorsed similar proposals, with, for example, J.D. Vance (R-Ohio) telling NBC News in July that he wants to “empower the president of the United States, whether that’s a Democrat or Republican, to use the power of the U.S. military to go after these drug cartels.”
During the first primary debate of the election cycle last month, Florida Governor Ron DeSantis said that, if elected president, he would send U.S. special forces into Mexico on “day one.” Other candidates, including former president Donald Trump and Vivek Ramaswamy, have said that they, too, support a military solution to the fentanyl crisis.
Weinstein and Grillo also discuss the history of Mexico’s wars against drug cartels, how cartel violence has affected life in Mexico, and more.
Blaise Malley is a former reporter for Responsible Statecraft. He is also a former associate editor at The National Interest and reporter-researcher at The New Republic. His writing has appeared in The New Republic, The American Prospect, The American Conservative, and elsewhere.
Top image credit: Russian President Vladimir Putin and Iranian President Masoud Pezeshkian shake hands as they meet in Moscow, Russia January 17, 2025. REUTERS/Evgenia Novozhenina/Pool
The decade from 2015 to 2025 marked a pivotal period in Russo-Iranian relations.
In September 2015, Russia, Iran, Syria, and Iraq established a joint intelligence-sharing network known as RSII (Russia-Syria-Iran-Iraq Joint Intelligence). A few days later, Iran and Russia, who had last fought side by side in the 16th century against the Ottomans, unexpectedly launched a joint military campaign. Their objective was to bolster Bashar al-Assad’s embattled regime in Syria’s civil war.
This collaboration resulted in an unconventional military strategy: Russian airpower dominated the skies, conducting extensive bombing campaigns against Syrian rebels, while Iranian forces advanced on the ground.
Beyond the battlefield, their bilateral ties expanded across multiple domains. Russia finally delivered the long-delayed S-300 missile defense system to Iran in 2016, and Moscow even played a mediating role between Tehran and Riyadh in OPEC negotiations. As a result, Saudi Arabia refrained from conditioning its own oil production cuts on parallel reductions from Iran.
However, despite growing cooperation, tensions remained. Disagreements surfaced over the division of post-war reconstruction contracts in Syria, as both sides vied for a larger share of the economic spoils. Iran also sought advanced weaponry, including Su-35 fighter jets, but Russia repeatedly stalled on finalizing an arms trade.
Still, the relationship continued to strengthen. At this stage, however, Russia maintained the upper hand, its air force played the decisive role in Syria, and Moscow remained the dominant military and economic power.
This balance began to shift in 2022 with Russia’s full-scale invasion of Ukraine. The war drastically altered Russo-Iranian relations. As the conflict dragged on, Russia found itself increasingly isolated, burdened by international sanctions, and militarily unprepared for a prolonged fight. Desperate for military support but constrained by Western-imposed restrictions, Moscow turned to Tehran. Iran, already under heavy sanctions, especially following the U.S. withdrawal from the JCPOA, recognized an opportunity. With little left to lose but much to gain, Tehran quickly positioned itself as Russia’s primary arms supplier, providing drones and other weaponry.
Iran’s support for Russia was not solely driven by financial incentives. More importantly, it reflected Tehran’s strategic ambition to recalibrate the power dynamics in their asymmetric relationship. For decades, Russia had dictated the terms, leveraging its economic and military superiority. By supplying Moscow with critical military assets, Iran sought to gain leverage and establish itself as an indispensable partner. This strategy began to yield results, Russia launched Iran’s Khayyam military satellite, signaling deeper technological cooperation.
Yet, Iran’s newfound influence had clear limits. Russia continued to withhold advanced aircraft, and during Iran’s confrontations with Israel in April and October of 2024, Moscow refrained from offering meaningful support to Tehran. This underscored the constraints of their partnership, while cooperation had deepened, it remained shaped by competing interests and underlying power asymmetries.
Nevertheless, it is clear that Russo-Iranian relations have been shaped by the war in Ukraine and their mutual efforts to preserve Assad’s regime in Syria. Now, the question arises: what will happen to this relationship in the absence of Assad and with the increasing likelihood of a ceasefire or peace deal in Ukraine?
The collapse of Assad’s regime has created a growing vacuum in Russo-Iranian ties. First, their primary joint military endeavor, cooperation in Syria, has come to an end. Second, without a shared threat perception in Syria, the extent of their overlapping interests in the Middle East has diminished. Historically, Iran and Russia have had significant disagreements, particularly over Iran’s hostility toward Israel and its relations with the Arab states of the Persian Gulf.
Additionally, the conclusion of the war in Ukraine would eliminate Iran’s temporary leverage over Russia. Without the war, Iran’s strategic importance to Moscow would decline. Simply put, once Russia no longer needs Iranian drones and military support, there will be little that Tehran can offer to fulfill Russia’s immediate needs. This shift would restore the asymmetry in their relationship, once again placing Russia in a dominant position.
Moreover, it is highly likely that Russia, in an effort to secure a favorable ceasefire or peace deal in Ukraine, and to rebuild relations with the United States, would seek to reduce tensions in other areas of contention with Washington. Among these, Iran appears to be the most expendable for Moscow. With Assad gone and the Ukraine war over, Russia would have fewer strategic reasons to maintain close ties with Tehran, making Iran a likely candidate for diplomatic sidelining.
In addition to pursuing détente with the United States, Russia would have other incentives to distance itself from Iran in a post-Assad and post-Ukraine war era. One of the key factors is its relationship with Israel, a partnership that Moscow has consistently sought to maintain and expand.
Another crucial factor is the shifting geopolitical landscape in the Persian Gulf. As President Trump’s administration revives the “maximum pressure” campaign against Iran, it is likely that Gulf Arab states, including Saudi Arabia and the UAE, would align more closely with the United States against Tehran or, at the very least, feel pressured to do so. In this context, distancing itself from Iran would help Russia preserve its relations with the Arab states without alienating key regional partners.
This shift could present a significant challenge for Iran. As President Trump reinstates the maximum pressure campaign, Tehran would urgently need Russia’s diplomatic backing at the United Nations to block resolutions and veto sanctions. Additionally, Iran would rely on Russian military support to rebuild its severely weakened air defense capabilities. Israeli strikes on Iran’s S-300 systems have already destroyed four out of five batteries, leaving Tehran in critical need of new radar systems, early-warning technology, air defense platforms, and aircraft.
Moreover, Iran would likely look to Russia, at least to some extent, to help maintain its influence in Syria, given that Moscow has thus far managed to keep some of its troops stationed there. However, the future remains uncertain, and these factors would place Tehran under considerable pressure.
That said, the conclusion of the war in Ukraine could also present certain advantages for Iran. If the conflict ends and U.S. sanctions on Russia are lifted, Moscow would regain access to a significant portion of the global energy market. This would ease economic pressure on Russia and reduce its need to sell heavily discounted oil to Asian market, particularly to India and China, where it has directly competed with Iran. As a result, Tehran could potentially reclaim part of its lost market share. However, given the high likelihood of Washington imposing another wave of sanctions on Iran, Tehran may still be forced to offer discounted prices to sustain its energy exports.
Ultimately, just as the Syrian civil war and the war in Ukraine strengthened Russo-Iranian relations, their resolution would introduce new challenges to the partnership.
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Top image credit: People stage a protest on Dec. 28, 2023, in Nago, Okinawa Prefecture, near the site where the U.S. Marine Corps Air Station Futenma is to be relocated from another part of the southern Japan island prefecture, after the central government gave the green light for a modified landfill plan in order to proceed with the transfer. (Kyodo via REUTERS0
It’s a pathetic milestone: Two months ago, about 100 U.S. Marines who otherwise would have been stationed in Okinawa ended up instead on a base in Guam. This was the first force reduction contemplated by longstanding negotiations between Washington and Tokyo designed to trim the gigantic U.S. military footprint in Japan’s southern-most prefecture. Eventually, 9,000 Marines — a little less than half the number now deployed there — are supposed to exit Okinawa.
But don’t hold your breath. The two countries, members of the most important security alliance in Asia, have been slow-walking the process. They claim that full implementation of the deal hinges on the construction of new U.S. bases in the region, and on the strategic behavior of a rising China.
By contrast, many Okinawans view Washington and Tokyo as collaborators in a conspiracy to saddle them with environmental and social pollution, and potentially expose them to cataclysmic violence. They have become deeply resentful after 80 years of military occupation.
Although it was reclaimed by Japan in 1972, Okinawa still hosts more than 30 U.S. military bases, which equals 70% of all such facilities in the country. This means it is home to more than 25,000 U.S. soldiers — a little more than half of all such foreign troops stationed in the entire country. Almost 30 years ago, after the kidnapping and brutal rape of a 12-year-old girl by American service members, Okinawans overwhelmingly approved a non-binding referendum calling for a reduction in the U.S. military presence.
Washington responded to that massive pressure by signing an agreement to give up 12,000 acres of garrison land. But the 1996 pact, which hinged on the relocation of an air base from Ginowan to Henoko, went nowhere. Although Okinawans hated the original location of the Futenma Marine Base, always viewed as dangerous, especially after a U.S. transport helicopter crashed into a nearby college, they hated the new location at Camp Schwab even more. It will jeopardize a coral reef that sustains all kinds of fish as well as seagrass beds that provide habitat for an endangered marine mammal.
In 2013, Washington and Tokyo tried to revive the original plan, creating a new timetable for reducing the U.S. military presence in Okinawa. With the exception of December’s small redeployment of Marines, however, this pact also gained little traction. Who or what is to blame?
American and Japanese officials say Okinawans have been unreasonable and intransigent. One U.S. official described anti-base activism as “extortion” designed to secure handouts from Washington and Tokyo. Another claimed protesters routinely engage in “hate speech.”
There is no doubt that fierce opposition has delayed the expansion of Camp Schwab, where a new system of runways is slowly being built on top of the Henoko reef. Some project backers have alleged, without evidence, that the Japanese Communist Party has imported paid protesters. Given that the men and women who show up with placards outside the base tend to be anti-war and pro-environment retirees, this is an absurd allegation. It also ignores the fact that Okinawans generally oppose the relocation project.
In 2019, more than 70% of the prefecture’s voters backed a referendum calling for a halt to construction at Henoko. Okinawa Gov. Denny Tamaki, the estranged son of a U.S. Marine, has won two elections largely on the strength of his opposition to the project. He and other local officials and agencies have filed a string of 14 lawsuits against it. The last piece of litigation was rejected last month by the Supreme Court in Tokyo, paving the way for many more truckloads of dirt and gravel. Despite that breakthrough, completion of the relocation project is still years away.
So, apparently, is the rest of the 2013 plan. In addition to relocating Futenma operations, the U.S. had pledged to close a few other bases in Okinawa’s more densely populated south, moving those Marines to the northern half of the island, to the Japanese mainland, or to Guam. But those bases continue to operate.
“So a dozen years later, only a hundred Marines have moved,” says Christopher Johnstone, who helped negotiate the deal for the Pentagon before becoming Japan chair at the Center for Strategic and International Studies. “Both sides know things aren’t moving forward, but neither side is incentivized to take action.”
One of the disincentives, according to Washington and Tokyo, is China, which is flexing its muscles in the South China Sea and the East China Sea. Leaders of the U.S.-Japan security alliance prize Okinawa’s strategic location near the Senkaku Islands and Taiwan.
But how can a relatively new factor (China’s rise) cause a continuation of the status quo? Critics of the heavy troop presence in Okinawa say the national leaders in the United States and Japan view the island as “expendable.” In other words, they don’t care much about the island’s fate.
Okinawa is the least “Japanese” of Japan’s 47 prefectures. It was its own Ryukyu kingdom from 1429 to 1879, when it was finally folded into the centralizing, industrializing, and perhaps “Westernizing” regime of Meiji Japan. Before that, it operated as a quasi-independent nation in the China-centered tributary system of East Asia, and served as a critical node in the trading networks that connected the Chinese and Japanese with Southeast Asia. One can still witness the Chinese influence in Okinawan architecture, food, and culture.
Because they tend to be physically darker and culturally distinct, Okinawans have been viewed for years by mainlanders as “different,” and as inferior. Some islanders, especially aspiring assimilationists like the early 20th century anthropologist Ifa Fuyu, became just as critical of what they regarded as “backward” characteristics of their own culture. They described themselves as seiban or “primitive tribal members.” Sadly, such self-loathing has been a common product of colonialism.
World War II deepened Okinawa’s alienation from Tokyo. In the bloodiest and last major battle of the war, U.S. troops seized the islands in a “typhoon of steel” that led to the death of between 100,000 and 150,000 Okinawans, maybe a third or even half of the local population. The Japanese military recruited many islanders to fight and encouraged others to commit suicide rather than, as imperial soldiers warned, be raped or murdered by “impure” invaders.
Okinawa remains poorer than the rest of the country. Infrastructure is less developed, in part due to neglect by the Japanese government before and during the war, and in part due to neglect by the U.S. government during its long military occupation. The unemployment rate is significantly higher than elsewhere in Japan.
The U.S. military provides employment for Okinawan guards, janitors, and cooks on bases, but also (indirectly) bar hostesses outside the gates. The local economy is distorted by its dependence on Japanese tourists and American troops. There is almost no manufacturing on the island.
As much as they resent the military occupation, Okinawans often sound resigned to their fate. They don’t expect relief anytime soon because, according to one anti-base activist, they simply don’t enjoy power: “The American government controls the Japanese government, and the Japanese government controls the Okinawan people. It’s all top-down.”
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Top photo credit: Donald Trump (shutterstock/Evan El-Amin) and Volodymyr Zelensky (Review News/Shutterstock)
On ascending the throne in 1881, Tsar Alexander III of Russia proclaimed that “From henceforth, all matters of state will be discussed quietly between Ourselves and God.” Both parts of this statement contain excellent advice for contemporary leaders. If you have a direct line to God (and several obviously think that they do), you should use it. And whether talking to the Divinity or anyone else, international affairs should be discussed quietly.
This is probably pointless advice when offered to products of democratic political systems; and in the case of President Trump he would need to experience something like a lightning bolt on the road to Damascus to follow it. Nonetheless, recent days have, or should have, offered a lesson in the folly and dangers of megaphone “diplomacy.”
The initial U.S. proposal (or demand) to Ukraine for control of its mineral reserves was indeed completely illegitimate and utterly unacceptable to Kyiv or any independent and self-respecting government on the face of the planet. However, given the weakness of Ukraine’s position and the already fragile state of his relations with the Trump administration, it was very foolish of President Zelensky to allow his officials to say things like this in public.
All Zelensky had to say was something along the lines of “very interesting proposal with positive aspects which we will consider carefully,” etc., and then leave it to Ukrainian negotiators to take a firm line with their U.S. opposite numbers in private. He’s an actor! He must know how to murmur “rhubarb rhubarb rhubarb” before a public audience without actually saying anything.
Much more foolish, boorish, undignified, ill-considered, dangerous and plain wrong however was Trump’s response, calling Zelensky a “dictator” and a “modestly successful comedian,” giving an utterly false figure of his popularity ratings and demanding that Ukraine hold presidential elections. He then made this even worse by refusing to call Putin a dictator and instructing the U.S. ambassador to the United Nations to vote against a resolution including language blaming Russian aggression for the Ukraine War.
Incredibly enough, this put the U.S. in the same camp as Russia, voting against a huge majority of the U.N. General Assembly. Even China — China, for Heaven’s sake — abstained on the resolution. This kind of thing is bad for the Trump administration and dangerous for the peace process, because it allows opponents of Trump and enemies of the peace process to denounce it as “surrender” to Russia motivated by personal and ideological amity between Trump and Putin, rather than a necessary step to end a destructive war, eliminate grave dangers to the world and costs to the U.S., and respect the will of a large majority of the international community.
It is indeed crucial to moderate U.S. official rhetoric against Russia and create the necessary atmosphere for successful negotiations; but what Trump could have said calmly and reasonably is that the Biden administration’s habit of trying to negotiate with Russia and China while hurling public abuse at them was profoundly counter-productive; and that at a very delicate moment in the peace negotiations the U.S., while not necessarily disagreeing with the language of the U.N. resolution, therefore thought it better to abstain rather than risk undermining the talks. Much of the time, all leaders really need to say in public is something along the lines of, “We believe firmly in a world of universal peace and harmony and goodwill and suchlike.” Chinese diplomats used to be very good at that until they started imitating the public language of their American colleagues.
The one thing to be said for Trump is that his locker-room language seems to reflect a locker-room spirit. In other words, he hurls insults and mockery at people, but really does not seem to bear a long-term grudge if they reply in kind. However crude his language and ruthless his approach to negotiations, he is in the end interested in the actual deal — sometimes quite a reasonable one, as may turn out to be the case with the U.S.-Ukrainian agreement on minerals. And this seems to work quite well at home.
In international affairs however it can be disastrous. Not many world leaders are as pachydermous as Trump, who could give your average rhinoceros a run for its money in this regard; and above all, insults to them are very often seen as insults to their countries, which will not be so readily forgiven. Sometimes indeed Trump’s remarks are open — and utterly gratuitous — insults to countries, including some old and close allies. Trump may extract some reasonable concessions from Mexico and Canada through a mixture of negotiations and pressure. He will not do so by renaming the Gulf of Mexico and calling the Canadian prime minister the governor of the 51st U.S. state.
As to the European leaders! They remind me of Robert Burns’ mouse, when its plans for a secure and peaceful slumber were disturbed by the plough:
“Wee, sleekit, cowrin, tim’rous beasties, O, what a panic’s in yer breasties! Ye need na run tae Trump sae hasty, Wi’ bickerin brattle!”
From the way they talk, anyone would think that the U.S. had already withdrawn from NATO, Russian troops were at the gates of Warsaw, and BlackRock (the former U.S. employer of the next German Chancellor Friedrich Merz) had taken away Merz’s pension.
None of this hysteria is warranted. The Trump administration will not allow further NATO expansion, but it has shown no sign whatsoever of withdrawing from NATO, which is far too important as a base for the projection of U.S. power in the Middle East and support for Israel, which the Trump administration has no intention of giving up. Article 5 remains in place. Europeans are talking about a return to Yalta and the Cold War; but during the Cold War, Soviet tanks were in the middle of Germany. Today Russian ones are in eastern Ukraine. Russia has neither the ability nor the desire to attack NATO within its existing borders, unless NATO intervenes in Ukraine. Trump’s threatened tariffs notwithstanding, the U.S. and European economies are very closely linked, and — as BlackRock itself demonstrates — their financial industries are virtually joined at the hip. Merz’s pension is entirely safe. There is plenty of time for European establishments to think carefully, soberly and privately about the future of European security; and while they are thinking, not to talk so much.
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