The Cost of Improvisation
Paco Baca
The Caribbean has become a stage for military deployment that, more than strategy, looks like spectacle. Technology, soldiers, and aircraft carriers off Venezuela—all under a bill piling up on the U.S. treasury without a defined plan. It is the price of improvisation: high, visible, and politically unsustainable.
On the eve of elections, and with 2026 marking the renewal of Congress, the Republican Party faces the possibility of losing key seats. Trump, in his crusade against the cartels, opens fronts he cannot control, while his image erodes under the shadow of the Epstein files. Time, relentless, does not forgive dispersion: every aimless move draws him closer to a whirlwind of overflowing actions.
The scenario projects a leader trapped between economic burden and social wear, inside and outside the United States. A war without strategy not only empties the coffers; it empties the narrative of power. And when time becomes the adversary, what remains is the noise of an empire spending more to sustain appearances than to build a future.
