Donald Trump is, without a doubt, a figure who should not be judged by what he says. His relationship with Venezuela has been defined by tactical movements that have evidently been forceful, like the operation on Jan. 3 carried out against Nicolás Maduro and Cilia Flores. Yet, they have definitely not produced an essential consequence: a genuine transition toward democracy.
It is undeniable: The same people who designed and implemented a system based on fear, persecution, torture and institutional deterioration remain in power in Venezuela. There is no real change when the people who uphold the means of control remain untouched. What actually happens is a reconfiguration of the same power. In this sense, it is increasingly evident that the interests surrounding Venezuela are not focused on the lives, the freedom or the dignity of our people. It is obvious that oil, CITGO and the control of gold remain the key pieces on a geopolitical chessboard, with the suffering of the Venezuelan people relegated to the background, or perhaps even farther into the distance.
From here, an uncomfortable but necessary debate has emerged within the country. Even among sectors that support the change, there is growing concern regarding the relationship between the opposition leadership and U.S. interests. The figure of Maria Corina Machado, who embodies significant national hope, is not immune to this tension. The risk is clear: that the Venezuelan cause will end up being subordinated to external agendas, undermining the legitimacy of a struggle that must respond, above all, to the very real suffering of the people.
But beyond the political debate, there is a harsh reality on the streets: Fear is not just a perception; it continues to be a daily reality. Walking through the cities, we encounter a constant intimidating presence: checkpoints manned by the Bolivarian National Police and the General Directorate of Military Counterintelligence. They appear, especially at dusk and during the night — hooded officers armed with military rifles who don't have to detain vehicles or conduct visible operations. Their mere presence, their aesthetic of occupation, sends an unequivocal message: Citizens are under surveillance, and those in power do not need to explain their repressive behavior, now under the protection of the U.S. (or at least that is how they try to sell and position it).
In this new context, the threat has escalated. It consists, not only of the politically motivated arrests that were happening openly before and after the defeat on July 28. Currently, there is the very real threat that cases will be fabricated, with drugs and weapons or other items being planted to provide legal justification for prosecution. This makes the risk much more serious, because it eliminates any possibility of defense, and turns any civilian — particularly social or political leaders and activists — into a potential target. This is likely the strategy they plan to develop so that they can stay in power.
As a result, those who speak out today in Venezuela must not only fear arrest but also prosecution; consequently, keeping Diosdado Cabello as Minister of the Interior and Justice means keeping the threat of the horrors already experienced in a dormant state. Cabello is not only a political figure but also the linchpin connecting the country’s main intelligence agencies, including SEBIN and the DGCIM*. His influence over these structures reinforces a system where intelligence is not used to protect the state, but to monitor, intimidate and neutralize society.
Personally, the actions of the Bolivarian National Police worry me greatly, because far from being a public safety force, it acts as the operational arm of this system. It was created and is sustained to guarantee political and territorial control, not to protect rights, and now it possesses a division that strictly follows Cabello's orders: the "Special Operations Group."
Furthermore, recent events have deepened the sense of national alarm. The death of Victor Hugo Quero cannot be viewed as an isolated incident. It is a message that has emotionally shaken Venezuelan society — a reminder of the risks involved in living under this system. It is undoubtedly a source of pain, but also a warning. Therefore, what is occurring in Venezuela is not just the mutation of an authoritarian regime, but an ecosystem of total control which combines political power, intelligence structures, security forces and the mechanisms of criminalization — a system where the law has been completely violated for a long time.
Venezuela is certainly not experiencing a transition; that is an enormous lie. It is experiencing a mutation of the old system that is now more sophisticated, more enclosed, more intelligent, and as a result, more dangerous.
*Editor's note: These acronyms refer to the Bolivarian National Intelligence Service (SEBIN) and the Directorate General of Military Counterintelligence (DGCIM).
The summits are not endpoints. They are the mechanism by which two countries, which can neither resolve their differences nor afford to rupture them, manage the interval between crises.
The summits are not endpoints. They are the mechanism by which two countries, which can neither resolve their differences nor afford to rupture them, manage the interval between crises.