Trump Supports Tito Asfura, Main Ally of Narcopresident JOH, Now Pardoned by the U.S. President
Analysis: La Tabla/Data Journalism Platform November 30, 2025
In a move marked by extraordinary hypocrisy, former President Donald Trump made a passionate call to prevent “Maduro and his narco-terrorists” from seizing power in Tegucigalpa, just before the elections in Honduras. However, this discourse of defending democracy and fighting against drug trafficking collapsed the moment he announced a full pardon for former Honduran President Juan Orlando Hernández, convicted of narcotraffic and money laundering.
The contradiction is as blatant as the objective: it’s not about combating organized crime, but imposing an allied government in Latin America, using anti-drug rhetoric as a smokescreen for direct intervention in Honduras’s sovereign affairs.
On November 28, 2025, two globally significant announcements emerged from Donald Trump’s office, revealing the true intentions of U.S. foreign policy: on one hand, the announcement of a pardon for Juan Orlando Hernández, a former Honduran president convicted on three narcotraffic charges; on the other, unprecedented support for his former subordinate, Nasry “Tito” Asfura, the National Party’s candidate for the Honduran presidency.
Trump’s post on Truth Social was explicit and alarming. In language reminiscent of the Cold War, he labeled Venezuela, Cuba, and Nicaragua as nations taken over by “narco-terrorists” led by Maduro and presented Asfura as the only “defender of democracy” in Honduras, capable of resisting this threat.
The message was clear: voting for Asfura meant voting for freedom; voting for any other candidate—especially Rixi Moncada or Salvador Nasralla—was akin to opening the door to communist tyranny and narcotraffic.
This narrative, however, clashes starkly with reality. Trump, in that same statement, congratulated Juan Orlando Hernández for his upcoming pardon, a man who, according to U.S. justice, received millions from the Sinaloa cartel, led by Joaquín “El Chapo” Guzmán, and used his position to facilitate drug trafficking to the United States.
How can a president who claims to be “tough on narcotraffic” pardon a narco-president? The answer lies not in moral coherence, but in geopolitical strategy.
Promoting Asfura isn’t a casual endorsement; it’s an outright interference in Honduras’s sovereignty. Trump doesn’t just back one candidate; he systematically discredits all others. He labels Rixi Moncada a Fidel Castro admirer and presents Salvador Nasralla as a traitor who would feign being anti-communist merely to divide the conservative vote.
This “divide and conquer” tactic is classic in foreign interventions and here is used in a way that can only be explained by a tight bond between Trump and the Honduran National Party, the same party that governed under Hernández for years.
Furthermore, this maneuver coincides with the announcement of an air blockade against Venezuela, a measure that escalates the confrontation with Maduro and reinforces the narrative that the enemy is “communism” and “narcotraffic.”
But evidence shows that the true aim isn’t to defeat narcotraffic, but to control who governs neighboring countries. The pardon for Hernández is a clear signal: the United States is willing to forgive drug traffickers if they serve its political interests. And the support for Asfura proves that these interests are at stake in Honduras.
In summary, Trump’s rhetoric about defending democracy and fighting narcotraffic is a facade. His true agenda is to ensure that in Honduras, as in other Latin American countries, a leader loyal to Washington governs, regardless of their past or ties to organized crime.
The Honduran democracy isn’t endangered by Maduro; it is threatened by external manipulation from a power that is willing to sacrifice freedom for its own interests, all in the name of liberty.
The Honduran people must understand: the real threat doesn’t come from Caracas, but from Washington. And the real “narco-terrorist” seeking to take control of Honduras today isn’t wearing a military uniform, but a business suit and a presidential pardon in their pocket.