Caracas

MIAMI — A former Miami congressman and longtime friend of U.S. Secretary of State Marco Rubio was convicted Friday in connection with a secret $50-million lobbying campaign on behalf of Venezuela during the first Trump administration.

Jurors found Republican David Rivera and an associate, Esther Nuhfer, guilty on all counts, including failing to register as a foreign agent with the Justice Department and conspiracy to commit money laundering as part of their work for former President Nicolás Maduro’s government.

The seven-week trial offered a rare glimpse into Miami’s role as a crossroads for foreign influence campaigns aimed at shaping U.S. policy toward Latin America, one highlighting the city’s reputation as a magnet for corruption and anti-Communist crusaders among its sizable exile population.

It included testimony from Rubio, Texas Congressman Pete Sessions and a top Washington lobbyist — all of whom testified that they were shocked to learn belatedly of Rivera’s consulting contract with a U.S.-based affiliate of Venezuela’s state oil company, PDVSA.

In an 11-count indictment unsealed in 2022, prosecutors alleged that Rivera was tapped by then Foreign Minister Delcy Rodríguez — now Venezuela’s acting president — to work Republican connections from Rivera’s time in Congress to get the first Trump administration to abandon its hard-line stance and ease crippling sanctions on Venezuela.

As part of the charm offensive, prosecutors alleged, Rivera and Nuhfer, a political consultant, manipulated influential friends, including Rubio and Sessions, like “pawns on a chess board.” The goal: to try to normalize relations with the new Trump administration at a time when the Maduro government was buffeted by serious accusations of human rights violations.

“As long as the money kept coming in, they didn’t care from where,” prosecutor Roger Cruz said of the defendants during closing arguments.

‘Massive secret’ threatened to damage Rivera’s political career

But the two held onto the “massive secret” and didn’t disclose their lobbying work as required, for fear it would have ended Rivera’s political career as an anti-Communist stalwart, Cruz said.

To hide his work, prosecutors allege, Rivera also set up an encrypted chat group called MIA — for Miami — with his main conduit to the Maduro government: Venezuelan media tycoon Raúl Gorrín, who was subsequently charged in the U.S. with bribing top Venezuelan officials.

Members of the group used playful code words to discuss their activities: Maduro was the “bus driver,” Sessions “Sombrero,” Rodríguez “The Lady in Red,” and millions of dollars “melons,” according to copies of text messages presented to the jury.

“It was all about la Luz,” Cruz said, referring to the Spanish word for light, which Rivera and others repeatedly used to discuss payments from Caracas.

Attorneys for Rivera and Nuhfer said the two acted in good faith and believed they were under no requirement to disclose their work. The three-month, $50-million contract with Rivera’s one-man consulting firm, they say, was focused exclusively on luring oil giant ExxonMobil back to Venezuela — commercial work that is generally exempt from the Foreign Agents Registration Act.

Wholly distinct from that consulting work, they say, were Rivera’s meetings with Rubio and Sessions, which occurred after the consulting contract had expired and was focused on ushering in leadership in Venezuela that would be less hostile to the U.S.

“He was working every possible angle to get Nicolás Maduro out,” defense attorney Ed Shohat said during closing arguments. “There was not a word in the chats about normalizing relations.”

Nuhfer’s attorney, David Oscar Markus, likened the government’s case to the 17th century Salem witch trials, presuming ill intent that was belied by the flimsiest of evidence.

“My client does not have a dark heart,” he said.

Exxon meetings for Rodríguez

Prosecutors said Rivera used the contract with New York-based PDV USA as cover for illegal lobbying.

Once exposed, the partners tried to hide the work — backdating documents and coming up with sham agreements like one to justify a wire transfer of $3.75 million to a South Florida company that maintained Gorrín’s luxury yacht.

The political activity included setting up meetings for Rodríguez in New York, Caracas, Washington and Dallas. As part of the effort, the two roped in Sessions, who later tried to broker a meeting for Rodríguez with the CEO of ExxonMobil that had succeeded Trump’s then-secretary of State, Rex Tillerson. After a secret meeting in Caracas with Maduro, Sessions also agreed to deliver a letter from the Venezuelan president to Trump.

The outreach quickly unraveled, however. Within six months of taking office, Trump sanctioned Maduro and labeled him a “dictator,” launching a “maximum pressure” campaign to unseat the president.

However, nearly a decade later, Rodríguez has emerged as the second Trump administration’s trusted partner after the U.S. military’s ousting of Maduro.

Before being elected to Congress in 2010, Rivera was a high-ranking Florida legislator. During that time, he shared a Tallahassee home with Rubio, who eventually became the Florida House speaker.

Rivera has previously faced controversy, including allegations that he secretly funded a Democratic spoiler candidate in a 2012 congressional race. Last year, federal prosecutors dropped the case after an appeals court threw out a sizable fine imposed by a lower court. Rivera was also investigated — but never charged — for alleged campaign finance violations and a $1-million contract with a gambling company while serving in the Florida legislature.

Goodman writes for the Associated Press.

American Airlines has resumed flights as Donald Trump moves to rebuild ties following the abduction of Nicolas Maduro.

The first direct commercial flight between the United States and Venezuela has landed in Caracas, ending a seven-year suspension imposed by the US Department of Homeland Security over security concerns.

Flight AA3599, operated by Envoy Air, a regional subsidiary of American Airlines, departed Miami at 10:11am ET (14:11 GMT) on Thursday, five minutes ahead of schedule, according to airport data.

It arrived in the Venezuelan capital roughly three hours later and was due to return to Florida later in the day. Earlier, the airline said that a second daily flight between Miami and Caracas would start on May 21.

The return of nonstop flights comes months after a dramatic shift in US-Venezuela relations, following Washington’s January operation that led to the abduction of former President Nicolas Maduro, and marks the first direct air link between the two countries since diplomatic ties were severed in 2019. For years, travellers had used indirect routes through other Latin American hubs.

Translation: “For nearly seven years, there were no direct commercial flights between the United States and Venezuela. Under President Trump, we are changing that today. Flights between Miami and Caracas have resumed,” The US State Department posted on X. 

Coffee and arepas in the aeroplane

At Miami International Airport, American Airlines marked the occasion with a small ceremony, decorating the departure gate with Venezuelan flags and balloon displays in the country’s yellow, blue and red colours.

Passengers were served coffee and arepas, a traditional Venezuelan dish, on board the flight.

Thursday’s service was operated by an Embraer E175 regional jet with a capacity for about 75 passengers.

US Transportation Secretary Sean P Duffy said the flight signalled more than the return of an air route.

“Today is about more than just another flight, it’s a critical milestone in strengthening the United States relationship with Venezuela and unleashing economic opportunity in both countries,” Duffy added.

He added that the resumption followed extensive work by the department and praised American Airlines for restoring a route he described as vital, saying more flights are expected in the coming months.

High ticket prices

Despite the celebratory mood, high ticket prices remain a key barrier, alongside strict US visa requirements that have left many potential travellers without the documentation needed to fly.

Recent searches on the airline’s website show return fares for early May starting at more than $1,200, before dropping to just more than $1,000 later in the month, suggesting prices may ease as services expand.

By comparison, flights via Bogota typically range from $390 to $900 round-trip, with Avianca among the main carriers.

American Airlines was the last US carrier operating in Venezuela before suspending flights in 2019, while Delta and United had already withdrawn in 2017 amid a deepening political crisis that drove millions to leave the country.

“Parents will be able to reconnect with children, grandparents with grandchildren, and families with the place they once called home,” Miami-Dade County Mayor Daniella Levine Cava said before the departure. “Miami-Dade is home to the largest Venezuelan community in the United States.”

Tarek William Saab, one of the key figures in the repressive apparatus that oppresses Venezuelan society, is dismissed as prosecutor general, but a family friend who has spent years denying Maduro’s atrocities on the international stage is appointed in his place. Vladimir Padrino, under investigation for systematic human rights violations, is replaced by Gustavo González López, also under investigation for systematic human rights violations. They pass an amnesty law, but primarily to grant amnesty to themselves. Over 700 political prisoners are released, but another 473 remain in prison, and those who are released do not always enjoy full freedom.

The institutional reforms of Delcy and Jorge Rodríguez generate headlines abroad that portray them, to those who don’t pay attention to the details, as the moderates The New York Times described them as shortly before the military incursion of January 3rd. The economic reforms, on the other hand, provide arguments, or rather content, for the Trump administration to claim on its social media accounts that it is succeeding in reshaping Venezuela, when on the ground the population observes their living conditions—the blackouts, the inflation, the widespread vulnerability—and concludes that they remain the same as when Maduro was dancing calmly over our dead.

Yes, there are some reasons for optimism, especially regarding the economic transition, but the transition to democracy doesn’t seem to be happening yet. The dictator was removed in a helicopter, but the dictatorship remains.

So far, all of this fits into a metaphor that has been cited countless times in decades of opinion pieces in Venezuela: the Rodríguezes are changing everything so that nothing changes. I grew up reading that cliché in the press, before chavismo burst onto the scene, guns blazing, in our history. “They’re like the Leopard, they change everything so that nothing changes.” In a country that has seen so many supposed reinventions, so many revolutions promising a clean slate to simply replace one set of power with another without solving any of the nation’s structural problems, that cliché has been uttered in relation to many governments and many leaders. But where does it come from, and what does it originally mean?

The cunning of the opportunist

Giuseppe Tomasi, Prince of Lampedusa, was a Sicilian aristocrat who seemed like a character from a novel: he failed as a soldier, he couldn’t prevent his family’s ruin, he saw his palace destroyed by Allies bombs during World War II, and in reality, he was only good for reading and learning languages. He published very little during his lifetime, and spent more than twenty years writing a novel that was published a year after his death in 1957. The book, which was a great success from the start, was titled Il Gattopardo (The Leopard in the English translations), after the cheetah that appears on the coat of arms of its protagonist: Don Fabrizio, the Prince of Salina.

The world is full of Tancredis like Jorge, Venezuela has never lacked them. Juan Vicente Gómez also promised change when he overthrew his crony Cipriano Castro, remaining in power for 27 years.

The character, like his creator, was the last of a line. He was a landowner whose noble titles and privileges depended on the existence of the Kingdom of the Two Sicilies, as the Spanish dominion of southern Italy was called in 1860. When, that year, Garibaldi’s troops invaded Sicily, in the process that would eventually produce the Italy we know today, Don Fabrizio found that everything he stood for was in danger. Sicily would cease to be Spanish and merge into the new Kingdom of Italy, and he would lose his place at the pinnacle of that feudal society, dominated by a few through the mere will of a foreign sovereign. Don Fabrizio, who had dedicated his life to preserving what he had inherited, saw no way to stop the transformations that were approaching like a tsunami at the gates of his palace, crowned by wrought-iron leopards. But his favorite nephew, Tancredi, an ambitious climber who married the daughter of an uneducated nouveau riche and joined Garibaldi’s Redshirt revolution without hesitation, showed him what had to be done: “If we want everything to stay the same, we have to change everything.”

The fate of the cynics

Il Gattopardo is an exquisite work, a great historical novel that brings together all the virtues of the genre: the ability to transport you to an era and dissect it; the pleasure of escaping to a beautiful palace in the golden hills of Sicily, beside a turquoise sea; details like the pasta timbale and granitas served at a fully set table. All of that is in Luchino Visconti’s magnificent 1963 film version, starring Burt Lancaster and Alain Delon, and in the superb miniseries—in which all the actors are Italian—on Netflix.

But what immortalized it was that line from Tancredi. Because of its power to synthesize what many people, in many different historical contexts, have done time and again: move from the old order to the new, disguised as reformers, to avoid losing their privileges by securing a place in the emerging elite. Changing everything so that nothing changes is the strategy of those who must pretend to be the future and not the past, because they would pay a heavy price if they didn’t. It’s the roadmap of those who, like Delcy and Jorge Rodríguez, have prepared themselves to take advantage of an external factor that destabilizes the order of their world—Garibaldi’s landing, the arrival of the Marines—and reorganize that world to their advantage.

Perhaps Jorge Rodríguez read Lampedusa back when he frequented bookstores and wrote fiction like the story that won the El Nacional literary contest. Perhaps he saw Visconti’s film. Perhaps he doesn’t even know this story: the world is full of Tancredis like him, and Venezuela has never lacked them. Juan Vicente Gómez also promised change when he overthrew his crony Cipriano Castro, remaining in power for 27 years at the head of a dictatorship that had a very good relationship with foreign oil companies.

In the novel, however, Tancredi meets a bad end: he loses an eye, fails in his ambition to seize power, pays for the mistake of underestimating the Mafia father-in-law with whom he became involved, and for overestimating his own talents. The prince, as expected, disappears along with the world he represented. Italy in the 1860s changed in many ways, and left other things as they were. When you truly read that immortal book left to us by that sad, solitary Sicilian prince, you understand how cynics work to appropriate historical changes, but you also realize that no one, not even those who seem most powerful, can control these.