The Legal Logic Behind U.S. Operations Against Narco-Terrorist Networks

Americans are watching a difficult story unfold.

A 2 September 2025, strike on a Venezuelan-linked boat has become a flashpoint. According to media accounts, an initial strike destroyed the vessel and killed most aboard; a second strike allegedly targeted two survivors in the water. Some reports attribute the follow-on strike to a “leave no survivors” directive, while the Pentagon now states that the decision for the second engagement was made by the operational commander, Admiral Frank Bradley, in his role as head of the Southern Spear task force.

In academic forums, a Former JAGs Working Group has warned that if allegations of an order to “kill everybody” are accurate, both the issuance and execution of such an order would be unlawful under the law of armed conflict (LOAC). At the same time, the Department of War has defended the campaign as targeting designated terror organizations and has emphasized that U.S. Special Operations Command (SOCOM) “called for” the controversial second strike but did so within a framework vetted by “the best military and civilian lawyers up and down the chain of command.”

This article does not attempt to adjudicate the facts of any specific strike. I cannot, and I will not. Instead, I write as an active-duty Judge Advocate who has advised real-world strike cells to explain how U.S. targeting doctrine works, how LOAC frames decision-making, and why Americans can still have confidence in the professionalism of their service members even as investigations and debate continue.

Before we can discuss LOAC, however, we must acknowledge a foundational issue being debated in the legal, public, and academic communities: the United States is not confronting small-scale smugglers. It is confronting highly organized, transnational narco-terrorist networks whose operations—including maritime fentanyl trafficking—predictably kill mass numbers of Americans each year. Whether one agrees or disagrees, this raises a serious and evolving legal question: when an organized armed group routinely inflicts strategic-level lethal effects on a state’s population, does the conflict approach, or cross into, a non-international armed conflict (NIAC)? This is necessary context for evaluating the legality of current U.S. operations against designated narco-terrorist actors.

What framework governs U.S. use of force against these groups? I emphasize at the outset: I do not know the classified intelligence or the internal legal characterizations used by the Department of Defense (DoD. We know that certain cartels have been designated as foreign Terrorist Organizations (FTO). An FTO designation triggers criminal statutes, sanctions, and national security authorities. It reflects a determination that these groups are not mere criminal gangs, but organized, violent actors that directly threaten U.S. national security.

Under international law, however, labels are not dispositive. An FTO designation alone does not create a NIAC or convert every member into a lawful target. The existence of armed conflict still depends on factual criteria: organization, intensity, and protracted armed violence.

Where I diverge from some critics is in how the situation is sometimes portrayed as an all-or-nothing dichotomy: either these actors are pure criminals subject only to law-enforcement paradigms, or they are fully-fledged parties to armed conflict subject to status-based targeting.

It is true that the classical textbook view of a NIAC centered on civil wars and insurgencies. But international law evolves. Just as the world adapted its understanding of what constitutes an “armed attack” or “hostile act” in cyberspace, it must now confront the reality of transnational criminal-terrorist hybrids capable of inflicting strategic-level harm on states.

Under the Tadic test, a NIAC exists when an organized armed group engages in sustained, protracted armed violence against a state. The critical question is whether the facts—not historical templates—support that classification.

1. Organization

Designated narco-terrorist groups such as Tren de Aragua and elements associated with Cartel de los Soles possess:

This is the profile of an organized armed group—not a loose criminal syndicate.

2. Intensity

The single most decisive—and misunderstood—factor is strategic lethality. Through maritime trafficking of fentanyl and similar synthetic opioids, cartel networks knowingly cause 70,000+ American deaths annually. These fatalities exceed U.S. battlefield casualties in many historical conflicts. This is not incidental harm. It is the predictable, sustained outcome of a deliberate operational model. Even after: designation as FTOs, U.S. interdictions and arrests, public statements declaring their product is killing Americans, and lethal targeting actions intended to disrupt operations, cartels continue trafficking at scale. This persistence reflects intent, capability, operational resilience, and a strategic disregard for human life—indicators long associated with NIAC-level violence.

3. The Law Must Evolve With the Threat

International law no longer treats cyberattacks as “not violent” simply because they are non-kinetic. The same logic applies here. LOAC measures effects, not the weapon used to create them. When an organized group deliberately inflicts mass-casualty harm on a state’s population through sustained operations, it has crossed the threshold of protracted armed violence.

4. Why This Matters

If the United States is engaged in a NIAC with specific narco-terrorist organizations, the applicable legal framework is LOAC, not a pure law-enforcement model. Although I have no insight into internal DoD characterizations, it is reasonable to assume that once the executive branch identifies such entities as FTOs and narco-terrorist organizations, DoD lawyers and commanders analyze them through that lens. That analysis informs how they understand hostile act, hostile intent, and imminence, and how they determine whether particular nodes of these networks can be treated as part of an organized armed group for LOAC purposes.

That does not resolve the international law debate — but it explains why, from the inside, these actors are not viewed as just “drug mules on a boat.”

There is much we do not know, and anyone who pretends otherwise is not being honest. We do not know the precise intelligence picture for each strike. We do not know every detail of the internal legal advice or deliberations. We do not know, yet, what exactly was said in every secure chat or briefing leading up to the 2 September engagements. Those facts will appropriately be developed in classified briefing and oversight processes. But there are things we do know from public sources:

So the stakes are high — for policy, for international law, and for trust in the U.S. military.

Whatever one thinks of current policy, U.S. military operation are not conducted in a legal vacuum. They are bound by: The DoD Law of War Manual, Rules of Engagement (ROE), Treaty law and customary international law, and civilian harm mitigation guidance and oversight mechanisms. A central concept is the Rendulic Principle, derived from post–World War II jurisprudence: commanders must be judged on the basis of the information reasonably available to them at the time, not with hindsight. The principle does not absolve bad decisions; it heightens the importance of good-faith intelligence assessment, legal advice, and disciplined judgment.

The 2023 revision to the Law of War Manual sharpened the “doubt rule”: when doubt exists as to whether a person or object is a lawful target, commanders must presume civilian status unless there is sufficient information to conclude that the person or object is a military objective. That makes positive identification (PID) — the requirement to identify a target as a legitimate military objective with a high degree of confidence — a non-negotiable gate. PID is not a gut feeling. It is a structured conclusion grounded in corroborated intelligence.

Contrary to some commentary, U.S. lethal targeting is not a matter of a single official “pushing a button.” It is a team effort and a disciplined process. At a high level, the sequence typically includes:

The Department of War has publicly stated that Southern Spear strikes have been legally vetted “by the best military and civilian lawyers up and down the chain of command” and conducted in compliance with the law of armed conflict.  Critics are right to say that such assurances are not the end of the inquiry. But they also should not be dismissed as meaningless. They reflect a system in which legal review is embedded, not optional.

Three LOAC concepts are central to understanding how a commander might view a suspected narco-terrorist vessel:

1. Positive Identification (PID).

PID is the foundation. It requires a high-confidence, intelligence-based conclusion that the vessel, its crew, or its cargo is directly tied to a hostile network and is making a concrete contribution to that network’s lethal activity. That conclusion must be based on the information reasonably available at the time — not on speculation, rumor, or post-hoc rationalization.

2. Hostile Act/ Hostile Intent.

A hostile act is not limited to firing weapons. It includes actions that directly enable attacks or lethal effects against U.S. forces or the homeland. Hostile intent exists when a threat of death or serious injury is reasonably assessed, even if no shot has yet been fired.

In the narco-terrorism context, transporting multi-ton loads of fentanyl or other synthetic opioids for an organized network known to employ violence can, under certain conditions, be understood as part of a hostile campaign that reliably produces American deaths. The question for LOAC is whether that conduct is sufficiently integrated into the hostile group’s operations to be treated as a contribution to armed violence, not just crime.

3. Imminence as a window, Not a Stopwatch.

In everyday language, “imminent” often means “about to happen.” In U.S. doctrine and ROE, imminence is framed more functionally: whether delaying action would increase the danger or foreclose the last feasible opportunity to prevent harm.

When intelligence indicates that a particular vessel is in a position to evade interdiction, offload cargo, or reach territorial waters where options are more constrained, the “window” to prevent foreseeable deaths may be measured in hours, not days or weeks. Under that framework, a commander does not need to wait until the drugs are on U.S. streets and bodies are in morgues to conclude that the threat is imminent; the key is whether the opportunity to prevent lethal harm will soon be lost.

Academic critics are right to warn that if imminence is defined too loosely, constraints on force can erode. The answer is not to deny non-traditional forms of lethality, but to tether imminence tightly to credible intelligence, clear causal chains, and conservative judgment.

One striking gap in much public commentary is a realistic appreciation of the professionalism, precision, and restraint of the U.S. special operations community.

The units often responsible for high-fidelity targeting and maritime interdiction — particularly those under U.S. Special Operations Command, including the Joint Special Operations Command (JSOC) — operate under some of the most exacting legal and procedural constraints in modern warfare. Southern Spear itself is reportedly under a joint task force led by a SOCOM flag officer, Admiral Frank Bradley, highlighting that these are not ad hoc actions, but operations under a mature special operations command structure. Contrary to popular imagery, elite U.S. forces do not have fewer rules; they have more: Higher evidentiary thresholds for PID, multiple layers of legal and intelligence review, real-time ISR support and cross-cueing tighter approval chains and command oversight, and a culture that values surgical effect over brute force.

In my own experience advising in operational law billets, the closer a mission was to a JSOC-style precision operation, the more conservative the decision-making became. Strikes were delayed or cancelled when ISR did not meet PID standards, when the pattern of life was unclear, or when collateral concerns could not be mitigated. That is not unusual; it is the norm.

Over the past two decades, JSOC and its partners have built a record in counterterrorism, hostage rescue, and other sensitive activities that depends on being fast, precise, and lawful. Their reputation — internally and externally — rests on an ability to achieve tactical effects while respecting legal and moral boundaries.

When commentators suggest that such units casually employ “double taps” or ignore surrender and incapacitation, they often underestimate the internal ethos of these organizations. The operators, analysts, and lawyers in these formations know the consequences of error: strategic, moral, and human. They train to avoid those errors, not to excuse them.

If investigations ultimately show that misjudgments or unlawful orders occurred in any particular case, accountability is essential. But Americans should not leap from specific allegations, still under investigation, to the conclusion that JSOC or SOCOM as institutions are reckless or lawless. Everything we know about their doctrine and culture points in the opposite direction.

That professionalism deserves to be part of the national conversation.

The most serious critiques should be faced squarely.

Scholars and former official have raised three especially important concerns: 1) That treating cartel-linked networks as NIAC-level adversaries risks stretching international law to a breaking points, weakening the distinction between crime and armed conflict; 2) That if any order was given to “leave no survivors,” such an order, if prove would be unlawful on its face, and any execution of it contrary to LOAC’s prohibition on denial of quarter; and 3) That allies who knowingly provide intelligence specifically for these strikes could face allegations of aiding or assisting violations of international human rights or humanitarian law.

These are not frivolous concerns. They touch the core of the rules-based order, alliance politics, and the protection of civilians. But it is important to distinguish between: high-level questions of policy and treaty interpretation, where reasonable experts can and do disagree; and the professionalism of the operations, analysts, and JAGs executing missions they are told are lawful.

From inside the system, what I have seen is not a culture of “no quarter,” but a culture of checklists, legal reviews, second looks, and abort calls when doubts cannot be resolved. That culture does not make headlines, but it saves lives and preserves legitimacy every day.

If inquiries reveal that processes broke down, that must be addressed transparently. If, however, the investigations show that commanders and their staffs acted within a reasonable interpretation of the law based on the intelligence they had, then that story should also be told.

The fight against narco-terrorist networks is not a neat, conventional campaign. It sits at the intersection of crime, insurgency, state corruption, and transnational threats. That is precisely why, if the United States chooses to employ force, it must do so through institutions and individuals steeped in law, doctrine, and professional ethics.

As Congress and the public continue to scrutinize Operation Southern Spear, I hope two things happen at once:

They are not perfect; no human system is. But they are far more disciplined, self-critical, and bound by law than most of the current narratives suggest. In a hard, morally fraught fight, they are still trying to hold the line. They deserve both accountability where it is due, and confidence where it is earned.

Major Aaron Conti is a Judge Advocate in the United States Army, currently serving as the Brigade Judge Advocate for the 513^th Military Intelligence Brigade. He previously served as the chief of national security law for the Combined Special Operations Joint Task Force in Iraq and as a Judge Advocate at multiple levels in the 1^st and 7^th Infantry Divisions.

The views presented are those of the author and do not necessarily represent the official policy or position of the Department of Defense, the U.S. Army, or any other U.S. government agency.