Prelude and Current Situation in Venezuela

Analysis of Venezuela’s 2024–2026 crisis: disputed elections, sanctions, Maduro’s capture, U.S. intervention and a new geopolitical power shift.

ANALYTICAL ARTICLE

Isabella León Graticola

3/4/20269 min read

What Happened Before? (Campaign, Elections, Repression, and Dispute Over the Results)

The recent diplomatic and military escalation was neither an accident nor an isolated event. Its immediate origins lie in the political cycle Venezuela experienced with the July 28, 2024, election, marked by a coercive presidential campaign, deeply contested elections, and unprecedented repression.

During the pre-electoral tour of María Corina Machado, who supported the candidacy of Edmundo González Urrutia after her disqualification, a pattern consolidated that already foreshadowed the state apparatus's behavior: selective repression, administrative restrictions, institutional pressure, and a progressive reduction of electoral guarantees. Hotels and restaurants that provided logistical services to the opposition were sanctioned or shut down; drivers, truck owners, activists, and small business owners were detained for collaborating in campaign activities. Some were released within days; others were transferred to detention centers associated with allegations of torture and faced charges such as terrorism or treason.

Public sector workers reported dismissals over alleged political sympathies, while journalists documented assaults and the blocking of news portals; several radio stations were also closed. At the same time, the government revoked the invitation to the European Union Electoral Observation Mission, tasked with overseeing the transparency of the vote. This decision violated one of the commitments undertaken in the Barbados Agreement, signed in October 2023 between the Venezuelan government and the opposition grouped under the Unitary Platform, aimed at establishing democratic guarantees.

With the formal start of the campaign on July 4, tensions intensified. By July 22, organizations such as Acceso a la Justicia had documented more than one hundred arrests and dozens of establishments closed during opposition rallies (Acceso a la Justicia, 2024). The opposition responded with a vote-defense strategy: it accredited witnesses in all 30,026 polling stations nationwide. It deployed a system to digitize tally sheets (actas) to safeguard the results (VOA, 2024).

On the night of July 28, the president of the National Electoral Council (CNE), Elvis Amoroso, announced that with 80% of polling stations counted, Nicolás Maduro had obtained 51% of the vote compared to 44% for Edmundo González Urrutia. The opposition immediately rejected the results and claimed to possess more than 80% of the digitized tally sheets (CNN en Español, 2024), according to which González had secured at least 67% of the vote.

The controversy quickly shifted to the international arena. Governments in the region demanded the publication of the tally sheets, while others, such as Russia, China, and Iran, recognized the official announcement. Even observers invited by the CNE, the Carter Center, and the United Nations Panel of Experts emphasized that the process did not meet international standards of transparency(VOA, 2024b).

After the vote, the crisis escalated into widespread repression. By August 18, the organization Foro Penal had recorded more than 1,500 detainees (Foro Penal, 2024). According to the Inter-American Court of Human Rights, the context amounted to “state terrorism” and “institutional violence” (Dejusticia, 2024). María Corina Machado went into hiding amid the risk of arrest; close collaborators sought asylum in embassies, whose diplomats were later expelled; and Edmundo González Urrutia, summoned by prosecutors and facing an arrest warrant, left the country for Spain.

The dispute over the results found no institutional resolution. The massive digitization of tally sheets reinforced the opposition’s narrative of an irreversible victory, while the government closed ranks and deepened internal control. This fracture, without effective mediation and with competing claims to legitimacy, laid the groundwork for the next chapter.

What Happened Next? (Failed Negotiations, Oil, and Geopolitical Tension)

The year 2025 began with an attempt at détente that confirmed the existence of an open channel between Washington and Nicolás Maduro’s government. In February, the visit to Caracas by U.S. special envoy Richard Grenell led to the release of six American citizens detained in Venezuela and the resumption of migrant repatriation flights (Associated Press, 2024).

A key element of the negotiation concerned oil licenses. These authorizations allow U.S. companies to operate in Venezuela despite sanctions. From the outset, Grenell explored extending or easing these licenses to incentivize cooperation from Caracas and maintain operations of companies such as Chevron. However, in Washington, a harder line prevailed, led by Secretary of State Marco Rubio, who favored tightening sanctions and reducing concessions.

The economic breaking point came on May 27 with the expiration of the Office of Foreign Assets Control (OFAC) license that had allowed Chevron to operate fully in Venezuela (Los Angeles Times, 2025). Years earlier, that license had made the company the principal energy link between Caracas and Washington. For the opposition, the tougher stance represented another step in a strategy of financial suffocation. Nevertheless, in July, the Trump administration once again authorized Chevron to operate in Venezuela under a license allowing crude swaps with PDVSA without revenues being transferred to Maduro’s government (BBC News Mundo, 2024).

In August 2025, the Donald Trump administration doubled the reward for information leading to Nicolás Maduro’s capture to $50 million (U.S. Department of State, 2025), described as the highest ever offered for a foreign head of state, in the context of narcotrafficking accusations and alleged links to the so-called Cartel of the Suns. Additionally, it deployed an unprecedented number of naval and air assets in the Caribbean under the pretext of combating drug trafficking and designated terrorist organizations. Destroyers, submarines, reconnaissance aircraft, and amphibious units began operating in the region.

This dual approach highlighted the inherent paradox of Washington’s policy toward Caracas: while increasing sanctions, accusations, and military threats, it simultaneously established exceptions to guarantee the continuity of Venezuelan oil supplies to the U.S. market.

Later, the crisis acquired broader strategic dimensions: the deployment of the aircraft carrier USS Gerald R. Ford in the Southern Command (SOUTHCOM) area, the formal consideration that the United States faced an “armed conflict” against Latin American cartels, and the designation of the Cartel of the Suns as a foreign terrorist organization created a new legal and military framework (U.S. Southern Command, 2025). At that stage, U.S. forces had reportedly carried out at least fifteen lethal strikes against vessels suspected of transporting drugs as part of anti-narcotics operations in the Caribbean and Pacific.

These moves fueled suspicions that the actions went far beyond counter-narcotics operations, exerting unprecedented pressure on the regime. The scale of naval deployment far exceeded what would be required to neutralize individual vessels, raising debate about the possibility of a direct strike on Venezuelan territory.

By December, although exploratory phone contacts persisted, including a conversation between Donald Trump and Nicolás Maduro in which the possibility of a negotiated exit without the use of force was explicitly offered, the dominant dynamic throughout the year was one of economic encirclement and strategic deterrence (Infobae, 2025). Venezuela had thus shifted from an electoral legitimacy crisis to a high-risk geopolitical chessboard.

By late 2025, the combination of stalled negotiations, public warnings, terrorist designations, and sustained military deployment created a dynamic in which pressure ceased to be merely deterrent. In Washington, the perception solidified that the Venezuelan government was using dialogue as a delaying tactic without genuine intent to transition, while economic and legal pressure had reached its operational ceiling. In this context, executing federal arrest warrants against Maduro ceased to be rhetorical and became a strategic alternative. The operation that materialized days later was not presented as a war, but as the culmination of a process of progressive escalation in which diplomacy had lost centrality.

Venezuela in 2026: Maduro’s Capture, Energy Shift, and Reconfiguration of Power

At dawn on Saturday, January 3, 2026, Caracas was shaken by explosions at strategic points and aircraft flyovers during Operation Absolute Resolution (New York Times, 2026), the suspected U.S. military intervention that culminated in the capture and extraction of Nicolás Maduro and his wife, Cilia Flores, to the United States to face federal charges of narcotrafficking and terrorism.

Maduro’s capture did not create an absolute power vacuum, but rather an accelerated reconfiguration of the state apparatus. Delcy Rodríguez assumed effective political control, reorganized the cabinet, and opened a direct channel with Washington, while Chavismo closed ranks to prevent internal fractures (Connecticut Post, 2026). Secretary of State Marco Rubio presented a three-phase plan for Venezuela (Telemundo 51, 2026): first, stabilize the country through control of oil revenues; second, reactivate the energy sector, attract Western investment, rebuild infrastructure, and promote reconciliation and the release of political prisoners; and third, initiate a long-term political transition, including institutional reforms and changes in governance. The phases overlap and place control of oil and economic recovery as prerequisites for any political progress.

The relationship with the interim government is asymmetrical: the United States defines the guidelines and applies pressure, while Rodríguez acts as interlocutor and maintains internal cohesion. In this sense, María Corina Machado was ruled out as an immediate successor (Artículo 14, 2026).

As expected, the National Assembly reformed the structure of PDVSA, dismantling its operational monopoly and allowing greater private participation and international arbitration. Likewise, OFAC issued new licenses authorizing oil trade and services under U.S. supervision, with payments channeled to accounts controlled outside the country. Companies such as Chevron, Repsol, and Eni began reactivating operations under this scheme. The visit of U.S. Energy Secretary Chris Wright confirmed that energy stabilization is a strategic priority, while the aircraft carrier USS Gerald R. Ford was repositioned outside the Caribbean, signaling the shift from a phase of maximum deterrence to one of indirect supervision (El País, 2026).

Domestically, the new equilibrium remains fragile. The Amnesty Law has enabled the release of hundreds of political prisoners, yet more than 500 remain detained (Diálogo Político, 2026; Financial Times, 2026). Meanwhile, opposition figures such as María Corina Machado retain high popularity, and the majority of society supports holding elections in the short term, maintaining political pressure on the new interim government (Financial Times, 2026).

What Will Happen Now?

What began as a dispute over electoral result sheets ultimately redefined the balance of power in the Caribbean. The Venezuelan crisis ceased to be an internal conflict over legitimacy and became a hemispheric strategic issue, where oil, migration, drug trafficking, and global competition shaped every decision.

The capture of Nicolás Maduro marked a turning point, but it did not resolve the underlying crisis; it transformed it. The removal of a leader does not automatically equate to a democratic transition, and energy stabilization does not guarantee institutional consolidation. The new arrangement, with a reorganized Chavista elite, U.S. supervision over oil flows, and an opposition with strong social legitimacy but no effective control of power, constitutes a hybrid, pragmatic, and still uncertain model.

Venezuela enters 2026 not as a country that has closed its cycle of conflict, but as one that has changed phases. The central question is no longer who won the 2024 election, but whether the new order can translate into stable rules, verifiable elections, and institutional reconstruction, or whether the country will remain trapped in a stability conditioned by external interests.

Beyond its immediate effects, the U.S. military intervention in Caracas opens a deeper debate about regional order. The capture of a sitting head of state without a multilateral mandate or explicit authorization from the inter-American system tests the principle of non-intervention that has structured hemispheric relations for decades. Although Washington presented it as the execution of judicial warrants for drug trafficking and terrorism, the precedent it sets is complex.

If this action consolidates as an acceptable model against regimes deemed illegitimate, its impact will transcend Venezuela and reconfigure the very notion of sovereignty. Even so, for the vast majority of Venezuelans, this indeed represents the beginning of the end of nearly three decades of dictatorship.

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