The War on “Drug Boats”: How Lethal Maritime Strikes Push the Boundaries of International Law
Jean-Pierre Murray examines the legality of recent U.S. strikes on suspected drug trafficking boats, arguing that the shift from interdiction to kinetic armed force potentially undermines sovereignty, violates human rights norms, and exceeds lawful use-of-force limits under international law.
On November 04th, the U.S. defense secretary announced the 16th military strike on a suspected drug boat, bringing the total casualties to 67 since the first one on September 2nd, 2025. While some view these attacks as part of a broader geopolitical escalation with Venezuela, the administration has maintained that this is primarily a counternarcotics operation. The framing of drug trafficking as a national security threat is not new. In 1971, President Nixon declared that America’s “public enemy number one is drug abuse,” announcing an “all-out offensive.” That campaign, framed as the “war on drugs”, prioritized supply-side interdiction and criminalization over public health. Law enforcement and the military became central actors, blurring the lines between domestic policing and national defense.
Today, that legacy continues in troubling new forms, most recently, in U.S. policy authorizing the bombing of suspected drug boats in Caribbean waters and in the eastern Pacific. In an international context of fundamental changes and increasing flux, where some have asked whether international law itself is under threat due to egregious breaches, lack of enforcement, or non-compliance, I ask whether this policy can stand to scrutiny under international law. I argue that irrespective of the motivations, the policy collapses the distinction between law enforcement and warfare, undermining both the rule of law and the humanitarian norms that protect civilian life. It has shifted from a rhetorical war on drugs to a kinetic one, without meaningful grounding in international law.
Throughout the 1980s and 1990s, U.S. counter-narcotics efforts in Latin America, especially in Colombia, militarized local law enforcement under the banner of the war on drugs. Drug trafficking was framed as transnational organized crime, and then as a national security threat, inviting extraordinary measures. This “securitization” of drugs isn’t unique to the Americas. In 2016, Philippine President Rodrigo Duterte declared open war on drug users, encouraging citizens to kill “any known addicts.” That policy led to thousands of extrajudicial killings and, in 2025, an ICC arrest warrant for Duterte for crimes against humanity. While Duterte’s actions were domestic, the U.S. bombing of drug boats in the Caribbean and eastern Pacific raises other international legal questions about jurisdiction, sovereignty, human rights, and the lawful use of force.
Jurisdiction at Sea and the Use of Force
Firstly, under international law, particularly the Law of the Sea Convention (UNCLOS), the U.S. Coast Guard can enforce its laws within its territorial sea, including for drug interdiction and, under the doctrine of hot pursuit, extend that pursuit into the high seas but only if it begins lawfully within its own jurisdiction. This would preclude enforcement in the waters of any other territory. On the high seas, the Coast Guard has carried out interdiction missions to board vessels, seize contraband, and detain suspected traffickers. There, the question of legality is also relevant. Even though the U.S. is not a party to UNCLOS, it is bound by customary rules, including respect for the flag state’s jurisdiction over vessels on the high seas. To act against a foreign vessel without consent from the vessel’s home state is a violation of sovereignty. The U.S. mitigates this through so-called shiprider agreements, which allow U.S. personnel to exercise law enforcement jurisdiction in the waters of coastal states and aboard vessels on the high seas where otherwise such acts would breach jurisdiction and territorial sovereignty. While the legal basis for these agreements is still questionable, they presuppose law enforcement activities that would ordinarily result in detention rather than armed attack by the military.
However, once we shift from interdiction to bombing, we cross into the realm of use of force under Article 2(4) of the UN Charter. Unless justified as self-defense or authorized by the Security Council, such action is unlawful. Furthermore, if carried out in the waters of another state, this would threaten their territorial integrity. The Corfu Channel case, a 1949 dispute between the UK and Albania, made clear that using force in another state’s waters constitutes an act of aggression, and is therefore a breach of the UN Charter's prohibition on the use of force in international relations. Assuming, however, that these strikes occur on the high seas, they remain legally problematic. A suspected drug boat is not a legitimate military target; rather, it is a civilian object. Destroying it amounts not to enforcement but potentially to execution, breaching human rights norms as discussed below.
Stretching the Law on Self-Defense
Let us turn then to the argument of justifiable use of force as self-defense, outlined in Article 51 of the UN Charter. The rationale appears to be that groups like Tren de Aragua, a Venezuelan-based organized crime network designated as a foreign terrorist organization, constitute enemy forces. On that basis, the bombings are framed as acts of self-defense. But that argument is tenuous. There have not been documented armed attacks or threats against the United States by this group. Even if the boats being targeted were in fact carrying gang members and cargo of illicit drugs, that would not be grounds for claiming the right to use lethal armed force. Unlike the groups flagged in the post 9-11 war on terror, these groups would not have targeted embassies, warships, or U.S. nationals abroad, nor carried out armed attacks on U.S. soil. Without an armed attack, there are no legal grounds for self-defense, and lethal force should not be used preventively, even if the U.S. has previously employed a questionable doctrine of pre-emptive self-defense.
Furthermore, force in self-defense should meet the minimum standards of necessity, immediacy, and proportionality. That is, the circumstances should be pressing, overwhelming, and leaving no room for alternative measures, in which case the aggressed state has the right to respond with proportional force. This would preclude the use of bombs against “drug boats” that are not clearly identifiable as military or armed vessels with the kind of firepower to warrant this level of force. And, even if those conditions were met, at the domestic level, there remains the question of the legitimacy of using force without the oversight of lawmakers. The executive branch is bound by the 1973 War Powers Resolution, to consult and seek the approval of Congress when undertaking sustained military action. If Congress is not consulted, that implies the administration does not view these strikes as “hostilities” that would trigger the War Powers consultation requirements. But that characterization undermines the self-defense justification: it suggests that the targeted vessels were not aggressors at the outset and are not capable of striking back. As a result, continued military activity in the Caribbean Sea and the eastern Pacific, now lasting more than 60 days without Congressional approval would violate domestic law and contravene the UN Charter’s prohibitions on the use of force.
The Erosion of Human Rights and Humanitarian Norms
Using military strikes in this way sets a dangerous precedent by framing criminal networks as enemy combatants and treating suspected smugglers as legitimate military targets. At stake here is more than the legality of force; it is also the erosion of humanitarian and human rights norms meant to restrain state power. The U.N.’s human rights chief has publicly decried the attacks, labeling them as illegal and drawing attention to the “mounting human costs.” The bombing of suspected drug boats without due process or clear evidence treats suspicion as guilt and potential civilians as combatants. It endangers the lives and livelihoods of thousands of fisherfolk in the region who rely on small vessels to fish.
Neither the declaration of war nor the use of emergency powers suspends fundamental human rights and humanitarian norms. Even in war, the principle of distinction under international humanitarian law, notably the Geneva Conventions, protects civilians. A drug boat, however illicit its cargo, is not a military target. Those on board remain civilians especially if there is no clear way of identifying them as combatants – or in this case, suspected gang members. From a human rights perspective, the International Covenant on Civil and Political Rights is equally clear. The right to life, protected under international law, cannot be suspended even under a declared national security emergency. Emergencies do not justify taking a life on the mere assumption of criminality. This is both arbitrary and unlawful. The same applies to due process. Every individual has the right to a fair trial before being deprived of his liberty, and even more so, his life. Drug trafficking is not a capital crime that would warrant a death sentence, and even if it were, punishment still requires trial and conviction. The bombings, therefore, would be extrajudicial punishment.
Towards Accountability?
This iteration of the war on drugs is not grounded in law, and possibly not even in fact. It reflects a dangerous development even among liberal states that claim to uphold international law: a willingness to devalue certain lives, to treat particular populations as expendable, and to do so with relative impunity. Not solely the domain of illiberal regimes, the open disregard or deliberate distortion of legal rules, such as self-defense, has become increasingly common among powerful states, including those at the core of the so-called liberal international order. While we are unlikely to see accountability before an international tribunal like the ICC, these developments raise a crucial question: What moral authority will the United States or its allies have when other states follow suit with similarly blatant disregard for the law?
Jean-Pierre Murray is an Assistant Professor of Government (International Relations) at Claremont McKenna College. His work focuses on critical security studies; the securitization of South–South migration; global governance; international law; and Latin America and the Caribbean.
Photo by: Ollie Craig via Pexels.
