By Suresh Unnithan
In a brazen display of imperial arrogance, U.S. President Donald Trump on January 5, 2026, publicly patted himself on the back while issuing veiled threats to India over its energy policies. Speaking to reporters aboard Air Force One, Trump claimed that Indian Prime Minister Narendra Modi had reduced oil imports from Russia simply to “make me happy,” framing it as a personal favor rather than a sovereign nation’s strategic decision. This patronizing remark, laced with the tone of a schoolyard bully demanding obedience, reeks of condescension and undermines India’s autonomy on the global stage. Coming just days after the U.S. military’s audacious capture of Venezuelan President Nicolás Maduro—a move that has drawn international condemnation—Trump’s words expose a pattern of strong-arm tactics aimed at oil-rich nations to serve American interests, or perhaps even his own.
Trump’s statement wasn’t just offhand; it carried the weight of economic intimidation. He praised Modi as a “good guy” who “knew I was not happy” with India’s purchases of discounted Russian crude, implying that New Delhi’s recent reductions in imports were a direct response to his displeasure. He went further, warning that tariffs could be imposed “very quickly” if India doesn’t fully halt these dealings, positioning himself as the arbiter of global trade flows. This isn’t diplomacy; it’s extortion. By linking India’s energy security to his personal satisfaction, Trump reduces a bilateral relationship between two major powers to a one-sided power play, where compliance is expected and defiance punished with economic sanctions. The backdrop of the Venezuela incursion only amplifies the menace: Trump’s America doesn’t just threaten tariffs—it invades and seizes control when it suits its agenda.
The Venezuela operation, executed on January 3, 2026, exemplifies Trump’s aggressive pursuit of resource dominance. U.S. forces launched a targeted strike, capturing Maduro and his wife Cilia Flores, and extraditing them to New York for trial on drug trafficking charges. Trump swiftly announced that the U.S. would “run Venezuela” temporarily until a “safe, proper, and judicious transition,” with American oil companies poised to benefit from the chaos. This isn’t about justice or democracy; it’s a thinly veiled grab for Venezuela’s vast oil reserves, the largest in the world. Critics at the United Nations have labeled it a “crime of aggression,” highlighting how Trump’s unilateralism flouts international law to enrich U.S. coffers. One can’t help but wonder if Trump’s personal business ties and history of self-enrichment play a role—after all, his administration’s policies have long blurred the lines between national interest and private gain. This pattern extends beyond Venezuela: Trump’s threats to India over Russian oil suggest a broader strategy to coerce resource-dependent nations into aligning with U.S. energy dominance, sidelining competitors like Russia while boosting American exports.
Yet, in the face of this bullying, India’s response—or lack thereof—has been deafeningly silent. Unlike China and Russia, which swiftly condemned the Venezuela strike as an egregious violation of sovereignty, New Delhi has offered no official rebuttal to Trump’s belittling claims. Beijing expressed “deep shock” and decried the use of force against a sovereign state, while Moscow, though somewhat muted in its follow-up, initially blasted the operation. India’s foreign ministry has remained tight-lipped on both the Venezuela incursion and Trump’s tariff threats, a stark contrast to previous instances where New Delhi pushed back against similar U.S. pressures. This reticence raises uncomfortable questions: Why is Modi, known for his assertive foreign policy, choosing deference over defiance? Is there an unspoken fear of escalating tensions with a volatile Trump, perhaps tied to broader U.S.-India strategic partnerships like the Quad? Or, as opposition voices speculate, does Trump hold some leverage—a “trump card”—that could expose vulnerabilities in Modi’s administration?
The Indian opposition has wasted no time in seizing on this perceived weakness, lambasting Modi’s “craven silence” as a betrayal of national pride. The Communist Party of India (Marxist) has condemned the government’s “disgraceful” and “pro-US” stance on Venezuela, accusing it of aligning with Trump’s right-wing ideology at the expense of India’s independent foreign policy. The Congress party has been even more pointed, questioning why Modi remains mute despite Trump’s repeated boasts about influencing India’s oil decisions. “Is Delhi taking orders?” they ask, highlighting how all the “hugs” and bromance during past summits have yielded little in the face of real pressure. Opposition leaders argue that this silence not only emboldens Trump’s bullying but also risks economic fallout for India, where affordable Russian oil has been crucial for controlling inflation and supporting growth. They speculate darkly: Does Trump possess compromising information, perhaps related to past dealings or investigations that keep Modi in check?
Trump’s tactics represent a dangerous throwback to gunboat diplomacy, where might is trump’s right, and resource-rich nations are treated as pawns in a game of American enrichment. By publicly humiliating Modi and threatening tariffs, he positions himself as the self-appointed global policeman, enforcing compliance through economic warfare and, as Venezuela shows, military might. India’s non-response only fuels this hubris, signalling to the world that even major powers can be cowed. It is high time Modi breaks silence and asserts India’s sovereignty, lest Trump’s bullying become the new norm in international relations. The opposition’s outrage is a wake-up call: Silence isn’t strategy—it’s surrender.
