Nicolás Maduro’s capture at the beginning of 2026 underscores the inadequacy of outdated ideological frameworks and exposes a bitter reality: in the face of the ineffectiveness of global institutions, political change in Venezuela ultimately came to depend on the force and strategic interests of superpowers.
First published in Geography Directions on Jan 28 2026
Outside the Brooklyn courthouse where Nicolás Maduro was to be charged on the 5th of January, anti-Trump protestors, holding banners that read “hands off Venezuela” and “free Maduro,” clashed against a group of Venezuelan migrants celebrating the capture of the dictator. Both groups waved Venezuelan flags, though for opposing reasons. These kinds of protests have taken place in many cities across the world since US action in Venezuela on the 3rd of January. World leaders, politicians, and the media have likewise responded with positions of condemnation or support
In the UK, MP Jeremy Corbyn repeatedly delivered speeches next to Venezuelan flags condemning US actions. His activity including organising an online event with the regime’s ambassador to the UK, Felix Plasencia, advocating for Maduro’s release.
Also online, videos show Venezuelans across the world approaching pro-Maduro lines in search of fellow Venezuelans. When they fail to find any, they leave frustrated, watching their national flag waved against Trump by people for whom Venezuelan concerns are secondary. While those like Corbyn see recent US actions as a violation of international law, for Venezuelans, international legislation has failed to support their fight for democratic change under authoritarian rule.
The confrontation between Venezuelans and anti-interventionist protesters exposes a bitter reality: in the face of the ineffectiveness of global institutions, political change in Venezuela has ultimately come to depend on the force and strategic interests of superpowers. While the world reacts, there is a notable lack of understanding of the realities faced by many Venezuelans.
Since January 2024, we have conducted research on Venezuelan migration in the US. Since the strikes on Saturday 3rd we have spoken to our interlocutors as well as people in Venezuela about what is going on in the country. While Venezuelans across the world have taken to the streets to show their cautious hope in the face of Maduro’s arrest, the regime continues to exist with its mechanisms for social repression. Fear of expressing any form of celebration inside the country is strong, as it might lead to charges of treason. “We are happy, of course, but colectivos [armed militias] and SEBIN [the regime’s intelligence agency] are out,” one of our interlocutors in Venezuela told us. “I don’t even dare to hang a flag outside my window.”
Fear in Venezuela has steadily intensified after Maduro’s electoral fraud in July 2024. In an unprecedented demonstration of civil organisation led by Maria Corina Machado, the opposition published proof of their victory. The fraud violated Venezuelan’s right to self-determination, upon which article 5 of the constitution ultimately rests the nation’s sovereignty. Maduro declared Machado and her running mate, Edmundo Gonzalez, national enemies and intensified terror tactics, imposing what could be seen as an indefinite state of exception. While news of the electoral fraud quickly reached international media, and some global leaders and organisations, including the UK Foreign Office, demanded the publication of tallies, little else happened. For Maduro, it was business as usual, often appearing on national television dancing salsa with his wife.
The lack of decisive response from global leaders and institutions such as the Organisation of American States (OAS), the United Nations (UN), and the European Union (EU) to the electoral fraud in Venezuela is a situation of political irresolution. However, the multiple attempts to establish dialogue, including those mediated by Norway, had proven fruitless because the regime was unwilling to meet the opposition’s two fundamental requests: the immediate release of political prisoners and free elections. Many Venezuelans felt frustrated by the international community’s inability to support democracy in Venezuela. ‘We’ve tried everything,’ many of our interlocutors conclude.
In October 2025, the Norwegian Nobel Committee, fully aware of the dictatorship’s instrumentalization of dialogue attempts, awarded Machado the Nobel Peace Price. Her subsequent dedication of the award to Trump constituted a gesture of support and approval for the United States’ military deployment against Maduro’s dictatorship. The Venezuelans we spoke with perceive Trump’s military pressure as the first tangible actions against the dictatorship, leaving many feeling that they have little choice but to endorse the US actions as a means to end Maduro’s rule.
As Venezuelan sociologist Rafael Uzcátegui writes, Venezuelans’ political reality cannot be understood in the dualistic light of imperialism vs. self-determination that likens politics to a black and white game of chess. Instead, it is more like a game of poker, in which the best hand may not always be the one to win. With the support of the Venezuelan people, Machado played her best hand, which involved endorsing Trump’s expansionist and commercial interests in exchange for military support.
This calculation is shaped by a longer history in which Venezuela’s most valuable asset, oil, has rarely served the interests of its people. The national oil company PDVSA has disproportionately benefited Russian and Chinese interests, and the American Chevron, who still operates in Venezuela, has been of little benefit to the Venezuelan people. The now-crumbling oil industry has long been a platform for ideological and personalistic interests, as best-demonstrated by Chavez’s mass layoff of 1800 oil workers on live television in 2002. As Venezuelans see it, Trump's thirst for oil at least helps their democratic cause. So, rather than imperialism, Trump's commercial ambitions are seen by Venezuelans as an avenue for change. Pedro, a Venezuelan business owner in Doral, Florida, told us: ‘If the price for my country to be safe and have food is to give away our oil, so be it. Please, Mr Trump, come and take our oil’.
For Venezuelans like Pedro, who are aware of the regime’s political brutality, the image of cuffed and blindfolded Maduro is a taste of justice. Even Amanda, a Venezuelan student in New York who once supported Chávez and who disagrees with the way Maduro was arrested, admits to feeling satisfaction at finally seeing justice served. ‘Though I technically agree with protests against interventionism’, she said, ‘I think they are disrespectful toward the opinions of Venezuelans’. To release Maduro on the basis of international law and imperial interventionism would undermine Pedro and Amanda’s determination for a democratic future. For other migrants in New York, like Eddy, a photographer, the dictator’s release could compromise a future in which he can be reunited with his three children in Venezuela.
Venezuela’s situation demonstrates the limitations of cold-war-time, anti-imperialist ideas that see US actions in Venezuela as a unilateral imposition of its agenda. Maduro’s Vice President, Delcy Rodriguez, has not only agreed to satisfy all of Trump’s oil-related demands, but everything indicates that she might have been the one who facilitated Maduro’s capture in exchange of power. Disregarding the pivotal role that Venezuelan political actors like Rodriguez and Machado have played in recent events, anti-imperialist protestors calling for ‘hands-off Venezuela’ reveal their limited knowledge of Venezuela’s affairs and the inadequacy of their anti-imperialist rhetoric.
Politicians like Corbyn condemning US actions in Venezuela indirectly align themselves with the dictatorship, compromising the credibility of their democratic values, and ignoring how anti-imperialist rhetoric can also be an alibi for tyranny. Tragically, the US military violence denounced by Corbyn has achieved more in a few days than what democratic international institutions achieved in Venezuela over the last decade. On 8th January, Delcy Rodriguez started releasing political prisoners, catering to Trump's pressure. The fact that political change could only be attained by violence, further erodes a global culture of democracy and trust in international law.
The gruesome lesson that some Venezuelans – and other oppressed populations, like those of Iran and Cuba – may take away from Maduro’s capture is that democratic means are insufficient to attain political change, and that the force and commercial expansion of military super powers always prevails.
