America’s Pirate-in-Chief

A president plays pirate king, seizing tankers, rewriting history, daring international law, and reminding the world that grievance, not strategy, now sets America’s course.

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I never thought I’d live long enough to see the President of the United States cosplay as Blackbeard, but here we are. President Trump, commander in chief and part-time grievance archaeologist, is now roaming the Caribbean like a reality-TV pirate king, seizing oil tankers and declaring blockades as if international law were just another prenup he never read.

This week’s prize? A Venezuelan tanker called Bella 1, currently being pursued in international waters by the U.S. Coast Guard under a judicial seizure order. Not boarded yet; because the ship didn’t stop, but pursued, chased, hunted. A word choice that matters. This wasn’t diplomacy. This wasn’t law enforcement. This was a naval chase scene ripped straight out of Pirates of the Caribbean, minus the charm of Johnny Depp and with significantly more ALL CAPS Truth Social posts.

According to U.S. officials, Bella 1 is part of the so-called “shadow fleet,” sanctioned for links to Iranian oil transport, allegedly flying a false flag and operating without a proper registry. Translation: the ship is sketchy. But sketchy ships exist everywhere. What makes this moment special is that this is now the third Venezuelan-linked tanker Trump’s administration has gone after in short order.

The first two? Allegations tied to drugs. The third? Sanctioned oil. Different justifications, same outcome: Trump pointing at the sea and yelling, “Mine.”

On Saturday, the Coast Guard intercepted another tanker, the Centuries, in international waters off Venezuela. This one wasn’t even sanctioned as a vessel, though it was carrying sanctioned Venezuelan oil; about two million barrels of it, according to energy analysts. It had its AIS transponder on, broadcasting its location like a ship that assumed it wasn’t about to be hijacked by the world’s most powerful navy. Wrong.

Homeland Security Secretary Kristi Noem proudly posted a seven-minute helicopter video of the operation, complete with “predawn action” vibes, because nothing says serious foreign policy like a cinematic drone shot for social media. The message was clear: this is what strength looks like now. Hover. Seize. Post.

Trump, for his part, has ordered what he calls a “total and complete blockade” of sanctioned oil tankers going in and out of Venezuela. He claims the country “stole” American oil, land, and assets during nationalizations that occurred in the 1970s; before disco died and long before he started holding grudges old enough to collect Social Security. Never mind that international law does not include a “finders keepers” clause for former empires with bruised egos.

In Trump’s telling, Venezuela’s oil funds narco-terrorism, human trafficking, murder, kidnapping, and probably bad polling numbers. Therefore, he’s assembled what he describes as the “largest Armada ever assembled in the history of South America.” Blackbeard would blush.

The problem, aside from the small inconvenience of international law, is that this looks less like sanctions enforcement and more like maritime vigilantism. Venezuela says the U.S. is hijacking private vessels. China says it’s a “serious violation of international law.” Even Senator Rand Paul, not exactly a dove in progressive clothing, is calling this a provocation and a prelude to war. When Rand Paul starts sounding like the adult in the room, you should probably put the sword down.

Paul is right about one thing: Congress declares war. Presidents don’t get to freelance naval blockades because they feel emotionally connected to oil fields nationalized half a century ago. Blockades are acts of war. Full stop. And chasing tankers in international waters, especially those headed to Asia—mostly China—has the subtlety of lighting a cigar in a fireworks factory.

And for what? Global oil prices aren’t even expected to spike. Most Venezuelan crude already sitting offshore China has nowhere else to go. This isn’t about stabilizing markets or protecting Americans at home. This is about optics. It’s about Trump playing pirate king, waving the skull-and-crossbones of “America First” while daring anyone to challenge him.

The irony, of course, is thick enough to clog a tanker. Trump, the man who spent years screaming about endless wars and foreign entanglements, is now flirting openly with one; over oil. Not because we were attacked. Not because there’s an imminent threat. But because he believes Venezuela owes him something. And Donald Trump has never met a perceived debt he didn’t try to collect with interest and a spectacle.

Blackbeard flew a black flag to signal no quarter. Trump flies a Truth Social post. Same energy. Different century.

The difference is that pirates didn’t pretend they were enforcing international order. They didn’t dress it up as morality or counter-terrorism. They took what they wanted because they could. At least Blackbeard was honest about it.

What we’re watching now is a president who sees the ocean as a stage, oil as a prop, and the U.S. military as his personal armada. It’s theater with real consequences, filmed in seven-minute clips and justified with words like “illegal” and “terrorism” that stretch thinner with every chase.

History doesn’t usually remember pirate kings kindly. And it rarely forgets the wars they accidentally start.

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