For at least a decade, it has been widely believed that direct attempts at regime change by the United States have ended in disaster. And with good reason. In Afghanistan, the same Taliban that was overthrown in 2001 returned to power in 2021, after two decades of futile American efforts. In Iraq, American forces succeeded in permanently ending the regime of Saddam Hussein, but the result was nowhere near commensurate with the human, economic, strategic, and political costs. Then, in Libya, a US-led NATO intervention, intended to prevent dictator Muammar al-Qaddafi from carrying out a massacre that might not have happened, ultimately led to his execution and the collapse of the regime. But there was no follow-up, and the fall of the regime produced chaos and what can best be described as a failed state.
This dismal performance in the recent past lends a surprising, even dizzying, note to the sudden revival of regime change narratives. And the longer history of such American policies and operations further illuminates the promise and risks they carry. At the same time, it offers some lessons. Clearly, regime change is easier to conjure than to achieve. Not having a plan for what comes after a regime is conjured up is to conjure up disaster. Finally, and perhaps most importantly, Washington must distinguish regime change as a phenomenon that requires a response from regime change as a deliberate policy aimed at achieving a particular outcome.
It is also important to acknowledge that the passage of time, unreliable memories, and domestic politics can all combine to obscure the reality of past regime change attempts. As the Trump administration considers multiple options for Venezuela after capturing its ruler, Nicolas Maduro, many observers point to the 1989 U.S. operation to extract and overthrow another Latin American dictator, Manuel Noriega, from Panama as a model of success. In reality, the two operations were fundamentally different. Moreover, the Panama operation was far riskier and more costly than many seem to realize. (I was serving on the National Security Council in the George H.W. Bush administration at the time.) A full appreciation of those risks and costs was one reason the administration did not pursue regime change two years later, after Iraq’s defeat in the Gulf War—a decision that is at least partially justified by what happened when George W. Bush took the opposite path as president in 2003.
Change is coming.
Regime change can take many forms. It can be driven by internal forces, external forces, or both. When regime change is brought about from outside, it often goes hand in hand with nation-building—a focused effort to establish a desirable alternative. Perhaps the most successful examples of such an approach occurred after World War II, when the United States, in cooperation with its allies, decided to implement fundamental reforms in the governance and foreign policy orientation of both Germany and Japan. The goal was to ensure that neither country would again threaten its region and the world. The ensuing Cold War conflict brought with it another goal: to transform them politically and economically (and eventually militarily) so that they could make a significant contribution to meeting the challenge posed by the Soviet Union.
These were impressive successes. Both Japan and Germany became strong democracies and economic powers, integrated into the Western alliance system led by the United States. Over time, they were also allowed, and even encouraged, to form modern militaries. It helped that both countries were largely homogeneous, well-organized entities that had been decisively defeated. Yet their successful transformation required long-term American military occupations and close involvement by Washington in their political reconstruction.
At about the same time, the United States rejected calls for regime change in the Soviet Union. Under successive administrations, the proposal—which proponents called a “rollback,” seeking to replace the communist system with something democratic and capitalist—was judged too risky in the nuclear age. Instead, Washington opted for a more cautious policy, which its chief architect, diplomat George Kennan, described as “a long-term, patient, but firm and vigilant containment of Russian expansionist tendencies.” The purpose of American foreign policy was to shape Moscow’s foreign policy, not to transform the Soviet Union itself.
It is clear that regime change is easier to invoke than to achieve. Not having a plan for what comes after the overthrow of a regime is inviting disaster.
The policy of containment worked well during the four decades of the Cold War. The Soviet Union’s reach was kept in check. In fact, containment exceeded expectations, as it created the conditions for regime change in the Soviet Union. In a sense, the “rollback” was achieved, albeit less through direct Western efforts and more through indirect ones—including NATO solidarity and the example of American economic and military superiority. More importantly, however, the regime change was the result of forces within the Soviet Union, primarily the rise of nationalism and the policies of Mikhail Gorbachev, whose acceleration of political reforms and his unwillingness to use force to crush dissent at home or in so-called satellite states marked the end of the 70-year experiment in Soviet communism.
There were many other attempts at regime change during the Cold War, many of them carried out by the CIA. Perhaps the most famous (or infamous) was the ill-conceived and poorly executed Bay of Pigs attempt to overthrow the communist regime in Cuba in 1961. It was an early, humiliating reminder that efforts to bring about regime change can fail spectacularly—especially if the target is determined and has strong support.
Similarities with Panama?
A subsequent attempt at regime change in Latin America—the 1989 U.S. intervention in Panama—has been drawing a lot of attention in recent days, in part because of alleged parallels with recent events in Venezuela. At the time, the George H.W. Bush administration moved to oust (and then arrest) Noriega, the strongman who ruled Panama. Noriega, like Maduro, was involved in drug trafficking and had overturned the results of an election in which he had been defeated. But in the case of Panama, Bush was also reacting to the killing of a U.S. soldier, as well as to concerns that Noriega might threaten other U.S. personnel and the Panama Canal.
When Noriega ended up in American custody, Washington successfully installed the winner of the annulled election, Guillermo Endara, in power. But it is important to remember that by that point the United States already had more than 25.000 troops on the ground, a strong diplomatic and business presence in Panama, and, thanks to the U.S.-built canal, a long-standing, established, and widely accepted role in the country. It is also worth remembering that Panama was less than one-tenth the size of Venezuela and had less than one-tenth the population that Venezuela has today. Panama’s armed forces were weak and small, and included many factions opposed to Noriega.
Yet regime change in Panama was neither costless nor easy. There were hundreds of American casualties, including 23 military deaths. The difficulties of capturing Noriega and bringing the operation to a smooth conclusion proved frustrating and humiliating. The experience also exposed the military challenges of operating deep inside another country—even one as well-known, relatively friendly, and small as Panama.
All of this made the Bush administration more wary of such projects. As Colin Powell, the chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, repeatedly reminded his colleagues, regime change is not a military mission. The military might be tasked with destroying targets and perhaps capturing or killing a foreign leader, but it could not be expected to replace the existing political system with something more convenient to Washington. That would require the use of all the instruments of American power and would depend largely on the nature of the targeted country and the strength of the alternatives to the regime. Moreover, asking the military to operate outside the classic battlefields and near civilian populations, in urban areas, would lead to high casualties and uncertain results. This caution went a long way toward leading Bush to call off the march on Baghdad in 1991, as the combat phase of the Gulf War was drawing to a close.
Battle after battle
Over time, however, that caution faded. After the September 11 attacks, the CIA and the U.S. military joined forces with Afghan tribes to overthrow the Taliban government after it refused to hand over the al-Qaeda leaders responsible for the terrorist attacks. The United States then played a major role in forming a government, rebuilding the country, building a military, educating girls and women, and much more. It was a classic example of nation-building.
The return of the Taliban, as well as the corruption and divisions that characterized Afghan government and society, worked against that endeavor. After 20 years, more than 2.000 American deaths, another 20.000 wounded American soldiers, and trillions of dollars in spending, the United States changed course because the Taliban could not be defeated and peace could not be negotiated. The first Trump administration signed an agreement that essentially handed the country back to the Taliban, and the Biden administration implemented it. Two decades after being ousted from Kabul, the Taliban have carried out their own regime change.
Iraq is another painful example of regime change gone wrong. The George W. Bush administration was guilty of being overly optimistic about the prospects for a peaceful transition to democracy in a deeply divided society long ruled by a brutal dictator. It also underestimated how quickly welcome liberators could turn into unwelcome occupiers. And the administration simply made too many mistakes. It created a power vacuum by disbanding the Iraqi military and barring too many former regime administrators and officials from working with the new government. As in Afghanistan, state-building proved costly in human lives and money. (It is worth noting, however, that, unlike Afghanistan, the SDs have something tangible to show for their efforts: Iraq is now a functioning country with recognizable democratic characteristics.)
The 2011 intervention in Libya proved to be a textbook example of the second lesson: don't take steps that could topple a regime without a plan for what comes next. If the George W. Bush administration was guilty of doing too much in Iraq, then the Obama administration was guilty of doing too little in Libya after the overthrow of Gaddafi. Today, Libya is a quasi-failed state. Regime change can make a bad situation worse—or simply make it bad in a different way.
Happy new regime - same as the old one
After these disasters, it seemed safe to assume that Washington would stay away from regime change for a long time. But today, the topic is back on the table due to situations developing in three places: Venezuela, Gaza, and Iran. Cuba could become the fourth case.
Venezuela is getting the most attention, which is ironic, because what the Trump administration is doing there is not really an example of regime change—at least not yet. In fact, the Trump administration seems to be taking a path that is in many ways the exact opposite of what the George W. Bush administration did in Iraq. There has been no deployment of U.S. troops, no disbanding of the military, no mass layoffs of government workers. There has also been no effort to do what the George H.W. Bush administration did in Panama: install a legitimately elected government. Promoting democracy is not usually a priority for the Trump administration, although it may have judged (not without reason) that any attempt to do so now in Venezuela would provoke a full-scale civil conflict.
What has happened in Venezuela is a change of leadership (Maduro was replaced by his vice president, Delcy Rodriguez) and pressure to provide access to Venezuelan oil for American companies and for the US government to oversee the sale of that oil. The Trump administration is also pressuring Venezuela to gradually move away from close ties with China, Cuba, Iran, and Russia.
Trump has been inconsistent in describing his goals in Venezuela; he has occasionally spoken as if regime change were the goal. “We will, essentially, manage it until there is a proper transition,” he said the day Maduro was captured. But the United States not only lacks the means to manage Venezuela — it lacks the will. Trump has long harbored an aversion to regime change and state-building; in fact, public discontent with Afghanistan and Iraq partly contributed to his political rise.
Yet it is unclear what might happen if the desired policy changes are not achieved due to a return to nationalism or internal infighting, either within elements of the regime or between the regime and the opposition. Trump initially threatened a second wave of attacks, but he would face a dilemma: how to reap the benefits of regime change without the risks and costs it entails. A wiser path would be to tie all forms of US assistance to the Venezuelan government to the implementation of the desired policy changes, including the inclusion of the opposition in the political process.
More dominoes to fall?
Gaza is another place where the politics of regime change have emerged, although it is not usually described by that term. The shared goal of Israel and the United States is to end Hamas's dominance of Gaza. In the more than two years since Hamas's terrorist attacks on October 7, 2023, Israel, with the support and assistance of Washington, has used considerable military force to achieve this. Israel has also occupied large parts of Gaza.
As a result, Hamas is militarily much weaker. But it is still stronger than any other competing military or political power. In other words, Israel is pursuing a one-dimensional strategy: attacking Hamas and demanding that it disarm before politics can move forward. It has refused to introduce an alternative political entity in Gaza around which the territory’s residents could rally. On the contrary, Israel has blocked the Palestinian Authority from taking on a more meaningful role, lest it give it a boost to Palestinian nationalism. Israel has also offered nothing significant in the way of political initiative that would encourage Palestinians to live in peace with a Jewish state. In this case, regime overthrow fails in part because state building has not been introduced. Under such circumstances, regime change is unlikely. The Trump administration would do well to reconsider its almost total support for the Israeli approach.
Iran is an unusual case. The current political system was established in 1979 through a regime change, when the secular authoritarianism of the Shah was replaced by a politico-clerical leadership. The dynamic was internal: those loyal to (or close to) Ayatollah Ruhollah Khomeini grew stronger until the state security forces were no longer willing to risk their lives to save the Shah's regime. The Carter administration, for its part, tried to prevent regime change, but it was hesitant and inconsistent and ultimately ineffective.
Nearly half a century later, it is the Islamist regime that is facing pressure from below, as protests have erupted across the country, largely as a result of a deepening economic crisis exacerbated by US-led sanctions. The regime has responded with token reforms and an increasingly harsh crackdown; Trump has declared that if the regime “violently kills peaceful protesters, as they have done, the United States of America will come to the rescue. We are ready and armed to the teeth and ready to go.” That red line has been crossed, but the Trump administration has so far refrained from carrying out its threat.
Regime change would be welcomed by a majority in Iran, as would many of the country’s neighbors. It is possible that American strikes on targets associated with Iran’s military and clerical regime would increase the chances of the regime’s fall, but they could also provoke a nationalist backlash. There is also the danger that American words and actions could exacerbate internal conflicts, putting opposition figures at greater risk, without any American ability to directly protect them. Providing technical assistance to enable the opposition to use the Internet despite the regime’s efforts to block access would help. However, it must be acknowledged that it is far from clear whether regime change is imminent and what would follow if it were to occur.
Nevertheless, the US would be wise to articulate a policy that would apply to any Iranian government and encourage the desired changes: namely, that Washington would be prepared to ease sanctions in exchange for Iran agreeing to end its nuclear weapons program, its use of violent proxy groups across the region, and its repression of its own citizens—with the extent of sanctions relief dependent on the degree to which Iranian behavior changes.
Act or react?
In the coming months, Washington must make a crucial distinction between responding to regime change that is already underway and pursuing a policy of proactively pursuing regime change. In the coming period, the United States may be forced to respond to internally induced regime collapses in Iran and Cuba, as it did in Iran in 1979 and the Soviet Union in 1991. When that happens, the question is how best to use traditional foreign policy tools to influence the outcome. The best approach is to offer substantial economic assistance if certain conditions are met, although in Iran the United States should also be prepared to support the opposition and weaken the government, given the many threats that Iran poses to American interests.
Regime change as a consciously chosen policy is something fundamentally different. It should not be resorted to often, but only after several questions have been answered. Is it possible? Is Washington in a position to support it given other priorities? Is it likely that more desirable and sustainable policy alternatives will emerge? Is the US prepared to be involved for a long time, at considerable cost to itself, and would that involvement be crucial and welcomed in the targeted country?
The answer to these questions will rarely be yes. That is why Washington should focus more on responding to and supporting transformative change within other countries when the opportunity arises than on acting to create it itself. The good news is that opportunities to support far-reaching policy changes, even regime changes, could arise on multiple fronts if the United States acts with a combination of discipline and determination.
The text is taken from "Forin Afersa"
Prepared by: NB
Bonus video:
