The Great Swap: A Conspiracy Theory
- indmandarin
- Jan 7
- 8 min read
By Indivisible Mandarin Member William Voohees, PhD

In the pre-dawn darkness of January 3, 2026, as B-1B Lancer bombers streaked across
Venezuelan airspace and Delta Force operators descended on the presidential palace in Caracas, a curious stillness emanated from the Russian military compounds scattered throughout the capital. The Equator Task Force, Moscow's elite military contingent, tasked with defending the Maduro regime, remained conspicuously in their barracks. The sophisticated S-300VM air defense systems, operated by Russian technicians and capable of devastating any aerial assault, sat silent. Within thirty minutes, Nicolás Maduro was in American custody, and the world's largest oil reserves had effectively changed hands—all while Russia's vaunted military presence in Venezuela offered no resistance whatsoever.
This extraordinary non-event—the absence of any Russian response to a direct American
military intervention in their client state—cannot be understood in isolation. Rather, it appears to be one half of a grand geopolitical bargain, a modern-day iteration of the spheres of influence arrangements that once carved up the world between great powers. The theory gaining traction among intelligence analysts and foreign policy experts suggests that Maduro's capture was not merely tolerated but pre-arranged by Moscow, traded for American acquiescence to Russian territorial gains in Ukraine and a 15-year moratorium on NATO expansion.
To understand this "Great Swap" we must first examine the intellectual framework that
makes such an arrangement not only possible but predictable. Fiona Hill, who served as the
National Security Council's senior director for European and Russian affairs and remains one of the West's most astute observers of Vladimir Putin's strategic thinking, has long argued that the Russian president operates from a fundamentally different conception of international order than his Western counterparts. Where American policymakers speak of a "rules-based international order"and "sovereign equality", Putin sees a world naturally divided into spheres of influence, with great powers exercising dominion over their respective regions.
This worldview, Hill contends, treats international relations as an essentially transactional enterprise. In Putin's calculation, if the United States expects Russia to respect the Monroe Doctrine—America's claimed prerogative to intervene in Western Hemisphere affairs—then
Washington must reciprocate by acknowledging a Russian Monroe Doctrine in Eastern Europe. From this perspective, smaller nations are not sovereign actors with inherent rights but rather chess pieces to be traded, sacrificed, or protected according to the strategic requirements of their great power patrons.
Venezuela, in this framework, was never valuable to Russia for its own sake. Yes, it
provided a foothold in America's backyard, a platform for intelligence gathering, and a client for Russian arms sales. But its primary value, Hill argues, lay in its potential as a bargaining chip—a problem Putin could create for Washington that he could later "solve"in exchange for concessions elsewhere. The deployment of the Equator Task Force in May 2025, the installation of advanced air defense systems, the signing of a 10-year mutual defense treaty—these were not preparations for actual conflict but rather the accumulation of negotiating leverage.
The timing of Operation Absolute Resolve provides compelling circumstantial evidence
for this thesis. Just days before the Venezuela intervention, President Trump hosted Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelenskyy at Mar-a-Lago, where they reportedly finalized a 20-point peace plan centered on a 15-year security framework. The details of this plan, as they have emerged, read like a wish list of long-standing Russian demands: a formal moratorium on NATO expansion, de facto recognition of Russian control over Crimea and the Donbas, and the transformation of Ukraine into a neutralized buffer state. Zelenskyy's cryptic comment following the talks—'If it's possible to deal with dictators this way, then the US knows what to do'—suggests he understood that Ukraine's partial sacrifice was being traded for action against another dictatorship.
The operational details of Maduro's capture further support the theory of Russian
collusion. The precision of the strike—described by The Guardian as "months in planning, over in two and a half hours"—required intimate knowledge of Maduro's location, security protocols, and defensive capabilities. The CIA's post-operation briefing acknowledged having a source in Maduro's "close circle" a revelation that takes on new significance given that Maduro's personal security had been increasingly outsourced to Russian military advisors as trust in Venezuelan forces eroded. Others have pointed out that Vice President Delcy Rodriguez—perhaps the person with the most to gain from the invasion—was in charge of security and was aware of Maduro’s movements.
Consider the tactical impossibilities that Operation Absolute Resolve overcame with
suspicious ease. The Russian-operated S-300VM systems should have detected the incoming
aircraft at ranges exceeding 200 kilometers. The Equator Task Force, comprising approximately 150 elite Russian military personnel under Colonel General Oleg Makarevich, was specifically deployed to prevent such a decapitation strike. Russian military doctrine, honed in Syria and Ukraine, emphasizes rapid response to aerial threats. Yet when the moment came, this entire defensive apparatus simply failed to function.
The Russian response in the aftermath has been equally telling. Rather than the
thunderous denunciations and threats of retaliation that typically follow American military action against Russian allies, Moscow's reaction was remarkably muted. Foreign Minister Sergey Lavrov called for "dialogue"and Maduro's release through "legal channels"—diplomatic boilerplate that signaled acceptance rather than outrage. No emergency Security Council meetings were demanded, no military reinforcements were dispatched to remaining Russian positions in Venezuela, and no retaliatory measures were implemented against American interests elsewhere. This restraint stands in marked contrast to Russia's vigorous responses to far less significant Western actions in Syria, Africa, or the Black Sea region.
The selection of Delcy Rodríguez as Maduro's successor provides another piece of the
puzzle. Rodríguez represents a unique compromise figure—sufficiently connected to the old
regime to maintain continuity, yet acceptable to both Washington and Moscow. Her mysterious absence from Caracas during the crucial hours of the operation, combined with reports of "unusually cooperative" communications with Secretary of State Marco Rubio, suggest prior coordination. More intriguingly, persistent rumors place her in Moscow in the days before the operation, allegedly finalizing the transition arrangements with Russian officials.
From an economic perspective, the swap makes strategic sense for both powers. The
United States gains control over the world's largest proven oil reserves at a time when energy security has returned to the forefront of geopolitical competition. Venezuela's extra-heavy crude, while challenging to refine, is precisely what American Gulf Coast refineries were designed to process—the result of $100 billion in infrastructure investment between 1990 and 2010. These specialized facilities, with their deep conversion units and cokers, had been operating below capacity as Venezuelan exports dwindled under sanctions. The capture of this oil supply not only secures American energy independence but provides leverage over global energy markets that can be wielded in negotiations with both allies and adversaries. The problem is that the US oil industry is hesitant to take up the challenge without security guarantees. It is estimated that rebuilding the dilapidated oil extraction facilities in Venezuela could take a decade and hundreds of billions of dollars. Their shareholders are unlikely to find such risks acceptable.
For Russia, the trade offers different but equally valuable benefits. The 15-year security
framework in Ukraine provides time to consolidate control over approximately 20% of Ukrainian territory, including the industrial Donbas region and the strategic Crimean Peninsula. This breathing space allows Russia to integrate these territories economically, rebuild its military capabilities, and prepare for whatever comes after the agreement expires. Moreover, the loss of Venezuela may paradoxically strengthen Russia's economic position if it drives China—currently Venezuela's primary oil customer—to increase purchases of Russian energy, potentially at premium prices.
The human cost of this grand bargain falls, as it always does in great power politics, on
the populations of the affected smaller nations. Ukraine loses not just territory but the principle of territorial integrity that has underpinned the European order since 1945. The 15-year guarantee, while providing temporary security, creates a fundamentally unstable situation—too short to encourage major reconstruction investment, too long to maintain international attention and solidarity. Ukraine becomes a truncated state living on borrowed time, knowing that Russian forces may resume their westward advance when the agreement expires.
Venezuela's population, 70% of whom live in poverty despite their nation's oil wealth,
may see even less change. The retention of the existing power structure, minus Maduro but
including most of the corrupt bureaucracy and military leadership, suggests that oil revenues will continue to be siphoned off by elites rather than invested in national development. The American presence may stabilize oil production and generate increased revenues, but without fundamental political reform—which appears absent from the transition framework—these resources are unlikely to benefit ordinary Venezuelans.
What we are witnessing, if this theory proves correct, is nothing less than a return to the
diplomatic cynicism of the 19th century, when Metternich carved up continents in smoke-filled rooms, trading peoples and territories like commodities. The "rules-based international order" that emerged from the ashes of World War II, with its emphasis on sovereignty, self- determination, and territorial integrity, is being supplanted by something older and darker—a neo-colonial arrangement that prioritizes great power stability over justice or democratic principles.
President Trump's "Donroe Corollary" as his administration has begun calling its
Western Hemisphere policy, represents not innovation but reversion—a return to the explicit
sphere of influence that Theodore Roosevelt claimed for America over a century ago. By
accepting this framework, the United States legitimizes similar Russian claims in Eastern
Europe, Chinese assertions in the South China Sea, and potentially other regional hegemons' demands for their own exclusive zones. The precedent being set in Venezuela and Ukraine may reshape international relations for decades to come.
The most troubling aspect of this arrangement is its fundamental instability. History
teaches us that spheres of influence agreements, from the Concert of Europe to the Molotov-Ribbentrop Pact, are inherently temporary. They last only as long as the power balance that created them remains static. The 15-year timeline of the Ukraine security guarantee is itself an admission of this temporality—a recognition that this is not a permanent solution but merely a postponement of reckoning.
As Russia rebuilds its military strength, as China's power continues to grow, as new
technologies reshape the balance of power, the careful equilibrium of the "Great Swap" will
inevitably erode. When it does, the unresolved tensions—Ukrainian irredentism, Venezuelan
nationalism, great power competition—will resurface, potentially with even greater violence.
The architects of this deal may have purchased temporary stability, but they have done so by
mortgaging the future, creating conditions for conflicts that our children will have to fight.
Whether the "Great Swap" theory ultimately proves correct or remains in the realm of speculation, the pattern of events it describes raises profound questions about the direction of American foreign policy and the international order more broadly. If Washington has indeed traded Ukrainian territory for Venezuelan oil, if Moscow has sacrificed Maduro for Mariupol, then we have entered a new era of great power competition—one that looks disturbingly like the old era that ended in two world wars. The efficiency of Operation Absolute Resolve may be less a triumph to celebrate than a warning of the moral compromises and strategic cynicism that increasingly define our age.
Notes
1. The Guardian / NY Times (January 4, 2026): "Months in planning, over in two and a half hours: how the US snatched Maduro" The report credits the CIA with establishing a "pattern of life" for Maduro since August 2025, monitoring his meals, pets, and movements with exceptional precision.
2. Current Conflict / The War Zone (January 2026): Confirmation that Maduro had shifted his personal security to the Russian Equator Task Force under General Oleg Makarevich as trust in Venezuelan forces eroded.
3. CIA Post-Operation Briefing: Acknowledgment of a source within Maduro's "close circle", raising questions about possible Russian intelligence cooperation given the integration of Russian advisors in Maduro's security apparatus.
4. Institute for the Study of War / European Policy Centre Analysis: Documentation of the Equator Task Force's failure to engage despite operating S-300VM air defense systems and specific mandate to protect the Venezuelan government.


