Delcy

An interesting debate about the past two months centers on the extent to which Delcy Rodríguez is finding her new seat comfortable. There are areas where she feels like a smooth operator (or a yes-woman for Rubio and Trump) and levers she can’t yet pull without finding resistance from her old comrades.

One can sense she isn’t too bothered driving Trump’s energy agenda. As Maduro’s economic vice president and oil minister, the last few years saw Delcy spend serious amounts of energy lobbying for sanctions relief, engaging with consecutive US governments, and maneuvering to bring in new players to the oil industry. Experts still cast doubt on her  ability to reinvigorate an economy and energy sector that still requires an institutional revamp much broader than a single piece of legislation. 

The issue is not the written rules themselves, but that the chefs in Washington DC are currently rebuilding the restaurant with the same cooks who, no matter how new the pots and pans, will sooner or later revert to the habits that made the kitchen a pigsty to begin with.

Sure, steps are being taken to move on the economic trajectory the US has imposed. In the first 50 days of the so-called “new political moment,” we have a new energy law, a US Treasury account holding Venezuela’s oil revenues, and dollar auctions for private banks at a free exchange rate. Last week, Trump’s Energy Secretary Chris Wright visited the country. In front of him, Chevron boasted of its crown jewels. The US followed up with further sanctions relief, albeit limited and subject to specific authorizations.

In the opposite end, the country still lacks clarity over political trajectory. The puzzle of democratization has hundreds of missing pieces. It’s not just a matter of whether elections will be held and results enforced, with the opposition choosing its candidate, with competitors sitting down to discuss the day after the vote, etc. Every question about freedoms and human rights has come attached to the ifs, buts and maybes of a regime that can’t even agree on the degree of control it gives up or whether politicians will be allowed to behave like politicians. The Guanipa incident suggests the answer is still no. So does the fact that Miguelangel Suárez, the Universidad Central student leader, was chased and spied on hours after last week’s Youth Day protest.

It’s still early, but in the sphere of political liberalization, the mantra from Jorge and Delcy Rodríguez seems to be: raise expectations and fall short.

Big headlines, slow progress

As noted by Camila González in our latest post, the Rodríguez siblings are trying to convey the idea that they’re true political reformers rather than the alleged traitors of the revolución that foreign newspapers obsessed with after January 3. Their messages are simple: we know how bad things are, though we can’t always admit it, we will empty the country’s prisons, we’d like to overhaul the courts.

Delcy’s speech at the Supreme Tribunal on January 30^th is a prime example. Not only did she order the creation of an amnesty statute covering chavismo’s lifespan and the shutdown of El Helicoide. She invoked a “great national consultation” for a new justice system (which likely points at behind-the-scenes discussion the ruling elite and the military are having) before naming some of the issues that make the system so dysfunctional: lacking access to justice, procedural delays, and corruption across the country’s tribunals and prosecutors’ offices. Jorge, more adept at improvising to manipulate different audiences, later said that guys like him need to both “forgive and ask for forgiveness” before describing political prisoners as necessary, “due to the realities, circumstances and the concrete situation of a society.” Three weeks after his remarks, 444 political prisoners have been released. Six hundred are still behind bars.

In theory, the amnesty law should also entail the release of the so-called historic, Chávez-era political prisoners.

These performances seem to align with the tendencies of the biggest external stakeholder in the process, Donald Trump, who has publicly praised Delcy Rodríguez and releases as a powerful humanitarian gesture. But in Venezuelan cliques, the implementation and discourses around these initiatives (brought about under a careful management to shield domestic stakeholders from further pressures) underscore the internal resistance and tensions playing inside chavismo.

The amnesty law, a key landmark of any political transition, would open the door to the return of political figures that includes many of chavismo’s longtime enemies, and perhaps more crucially, confrontation with the consequences of years of having imprisoned military officers subjected to the worst kind of punishments under the high command’s oversight. Foro Penal reports that 185 FANB personnel are still imprisoned. Venezuelan journalist Hernán Lugo Galicia affirms that most of them are National Guards and Army officers, and that only a handful have been released since the process began on January 8.

An amnesty in handcuffs

In theory, this policy should also entail the release of the so-called historic, Chávez-era political prisoners: public officials convicted in trials riddled with irregularities. This group includes Héctor Rovaín, Erasmo Bolívar, and Luis Molina—former officers of the now-defunct Caracas Metropolitan Police accused of shooting demonstrators and supplying weapons to coup participants during the massive anti-Chávez protest of April 11, 2002 (the narrative chavismo used to shield armed colectivos and party leaders from legal responsibility). It also includes Otoniel, Juan Bautista, and Rolando Guevara, three police agents convicted for the murder of Danilo Anderson, the prosecutor investigating the planning of the 2002 coup.

These cases are deeply symbolic for the regime: the conviction of the Metropolitan Police officers helped cast blame on a handful of supposedly putschist cops while insulating the Chávez government from responsibility for the violent deaths. The Guevara case, meanwhile, appears designed to silence the controversy and corruption that surfaced during investigations into the events of 2002.

Releasing the históricos (who go back to a time where Delcy and Jorge Rodríguez were not in politics) would be an admission that chavismo engaged in political persecution early on, tearing down the myth of one of its martyrs in Anderson and the Policías Metropolitanos as the sole rotten apples of 2002. Releasing FANB members, many in terrible shape because of mistreatment and prolonged isolation, would of course add another layer of pressure to a military high command embarrassed by the American incursion that killed dozens of subordinates and captured the commander-in-chief, not to mention the array of testimonies and revelations that a decision like that could start to induce. Interior Minister Cabello is well aware of that, and sounds resolute in his opposition to the release of those accused of plotting or rebelling in arms.

The amnesty bill is now stuck. Chavista lawmakers don’t yet agree on the contents of Article 7, which commands dissidents charged with relevant crimes, many of which went in hiding or fled the country, to turn themselves in in order to become amnesty beneficiaries.

Reality suggests that supposed moderates still fall short, unable to break from the dominant logic of  fear and control.

“They said they didn’t do anything. Not lobbying for sanctions, not cheering at the (US) intervention. The amnesty is about acknowledging mistakes,” Iris Varela recently said in a pro-chavista podcast. “If you want both an amnesty and to return to the country, then come over here, prove you were under persecution, and get the amnesty.”

Varela is one of the lawmakers in charge of the amnesty project, but she is known as a radical chavista for more than 20 years. After her intervention in the National Assembly last week, Jorge Rodriguez decided to adjourn the discussion arguing that the minority bloc led by Henrique Capriles had requested further amendments.

Therein lies another distinction in the official choreography surrounding the amnesty saga. Even if all chavista voices ultimately recycle the same talking points about sovereignty, malign NGOs, and chavismo as the guarantor of peace, their performances differ in tone and posture. While figures such as Diosdado Cabello and Iris Varela maintain an unyielding stance toward traditional opponents, more civilian-facing chavista actors are attempting to stage a process in which civil society groups ostensibly have a say in shaping the amnesty bill.

Representatives from leading human rights organizations such as Provea and Foro Penal attended a meeting with the parliamentary Domestic Policy Committee, shortly after Professors Guillermo Aveledo (Universidad Metropolitana) and Juan Carlos Apitz (Universidad Central de Venezuela) were allowed to criticize and question the extent to which reforms are actually in motion, while in the same room as Jorge Rodríguez and Nicolás Maduro Guerra.

These meetings may well be cosmetic, and are unlikely to determine the final legal outcome, but they appear designed to position certain chavista officials within a “moderate” camp: figures supposedly willing to build bridges with the opposition and entertain uncomfortable truths, even if their broader script remains unchanged.

Reality suggests that supposed moderates still fall short, unable to break from the dominant logic of  fear and control. After what appeared to be a staged embrace with relatives of political prisoners, the promise by Jorge Rodríguez to release all detainees held at the PNB jail in Boleíta, eastern Caracas, is yet to materialize. Meanwhile, Jorge Arreaza, who heads the Internal Policy Committee, recently offered little beyond justifying Guanipa’s re-arrest as relatives of victims and journalists pressed him for answers about the release process.

Scenes like these—Rodríguez, however calculated the gesture, appearing outside a political prison, and Arreaza being publicly challenged and scrutinized in the streets—would have been inconceivable just a year ago. They are a novelty in the politics of late-stage chavismo. But novelty is not reform. Such gestures are unlikely to persuade a skeptical public that a genuine shift is underway. Again, emphasis appears to rest more on optics than on tangible results.

Perfume and polish for the security sector

The Interior Ministry is still in Cabello’s hands, with top cops and allies running the main security agencies: Douglas Rico at CICPC, his cousin Alexis Rodriguez Cabello at SEBIN, and his old pal Gustavo González López now commanding both Delcy’s security ring and the fearsome DGCIM (his predecessor was fired after the US captured Maduro and Cilia Flores). Colonel Alexander Granko, who became the face of state violence in the 2020s, remains DGCIM’s special ops star, but has kept a low profile in recent weeks.

Having said that, recent moves suggest that Delcy Rodríguez retains an interest in the structure and functions of a security apparatus she does not fully control—and is willing to upgrade and trim it where possible. On February 9, the government officially dissolved the Strategic Center for Security and Protection of the Homeland (CESSPA), the intelligence body tasked with monitoring “foreign and domestic enemy activity” by centralizing data from all state security organs. Its shutdown came with the elimination of six social missions dating back to the Chávez and Maduro periods.

Senior politicians close to the opposition leader—Guanipa, Perkins Rocha, and Freddy Superlano—remain under house arrest. The amnesty law, scheduled for discussion tonight, would be entirely incompatible with that fact.

Earlier, flanked by senior chavista leaders and military generals, Rodríguez announced the creation of a new intelligence body: the National Office for Defense and Cybersecurity, conceived as a hub “where Venezuela’s scientists and technology experts should come together to defend our cyberspace.” She appointed Gabriela Jiménez to lead it, a biologist who previously served as Science and Technology Minister and was part of chavismo’s delegation during the Mexico negotiations. In August 2024, Jiménez had already alleged that the National Electoral Council (CNE) and dozens of Venezuelan institutions were the target of cyberattacks in the context of the July 28 presidential vote.

Delcy may have already taken a step toward the state goal of reforming the judicial system. This month, the National Assembly approved an amendment to the statute governing the CICPC, emphasizing clearer chains of command and defining officers’ roles in criminal investigations. In a country where the scientific police (whether the CICPC or its predecessor, the Policía Técnica Judicial) has long exercised outsized influence over the justice system, the reform does sound interesting. It doesn’t undo Chávez-era decrees that subordinate judges and prosecutors to intelligence bodies rather than positioning them as institutional checks. Whether this marks the beginning of deeper changes with chavismo in power also remains to be seen.

Information remains scarce and, now more than ever, the country’s future is being discussed behind closed doors, with few listening in—such as yesterday’s meeting between Southern Command chief Francis Donovan and Delcy Rodríguez, Cabello, and Vladimir Padrino López. Our latest Political Risk Report indicates that María Corina Machado’s return to Venezuela featured prominently in conversations between Secretary Wright and Delcy last week. That development would not only deepen tensions within chavismo, but also test the resilience of the supposed transition now being pursued.

Senior politicians close to the opposition leader—Guanipa, Perkins Rocha, and Freddy Superlano—remain under house arrest. The amnesty law, scheduled for discussion tonight, would be entirely incompatible with that fact. We will soon see how far the so-called moderate lawmakers are willing (or able) to push it.

After the students’ demonstration on February 12, Venezuela’s most important university will again test how open the Rodríguez regime really is by talking about what they don’t want to hear: that chavismo lost the 2024 vote on a landslide, with Delcy running the economy and Jorge managing the campaign, before Maduro to stole the election.

This Saturday, on February 21st, an international event that advocates for amnesty in Venezuela will screen in 20 cities around the world the documentary that tells the story of the civilian mobilization that defended the votes and documented the results, the fraud, the people’s revolt, and the unprecedented crackdown.

In late 2024, Hacha y Machete, an activism network and communications platform composed of a multidisciplinary team of Venezuelan migrants and residents, dedicated itself to preserving the memory of what happened on July 28th and the days and months that followed. Now, it promotes the International Day for Amnesty in Venezuela with the support of organizations such as the Committee for the Liberation of Political Prisoners (CLIPPVE), the Washington Office for Latin America (WOLA), Laboratorio de Paz and Laboratorio Ciudadano, with the message of justice, not impunity. 

The documentary De Macedonia con amor reconstructs the courage of citizens and the consequences of repression. You can watch it here, or you can join the events. In Washington DC there will be a conversation sponsored by George Washington University (GWU) and WOLA, with Betilde Muñoz, director of Access to Rights at the Organization of American States (OAS); Isabella Picón, activist and PhD candidate at GWU; and Laura Dib, Director of the Venezuela Program at WOLA, at 2:00 pm at the Lindner Family Commons, on the sixth floor of the Elliot School of International Affairs (1957 E St, NW).

In Caracas, the screening will take place at FACES, seventh floor, at the Sala de Usos Múltiples (11:00 am). Let’s what happens.

Here’s the other participant cities and the schedule: 

• Mexico City: Cineclub Mar de Lava, Av. Francisco Sosa 298, Coyoacán. (01.00 pm)

• Madrid: Bar Cotorrita, Calle Santa Engracia, 33. (05.00 pm) 

• Barcelona (Spain): Ateneu El Poblet, Carrer de Nàpols, 268-270, Eixample. (6.00 pm)

• Buenos Aires: Casa Sur, Av. Diaz Velez, 4736, CABA. (04.00 pm)

• Bogotá: Diáspora Ideas Migrantes, Calle 58 #19-25 San Luis. (05.00 pm)

• Montevideo: José E. Rodó 2182, Esq. Joaquín Requena. (04.00 pm)

• Santiago de Chile: General Urriola, 624, Salón Gourmet. (06.00 pm)

• Brescia: Oratorio La Pace, Via Della Pace, 10. (08.00 pm) 

• Berlin: Die DeutSCHule, Karl-Marx-Straße 107. (08.00 pm)

• Portland OR: Independent Publishing Resource Center, 318 SE Main St. (03.30 pm)

• Bamberg: Kunigundenruhstr. 8 (Distel). (07.30 pm)

• Valencia (Spain): Jerónima Gales 16. (03.00 pm)

• Basel: La Tienda Latina, Klybeckstrasse 33. (3.00 pm)

• Alicante: Calle Garbinet, 67. (06.00 pm)

• Mar del Plata: San Luis 2745, Proyecto Bar. (04.00 pm)

• Torino: Sala Polivalente, Via G. Giolitti 21. (03.00 pm)

In a previous article, we suggested that the opposition activate street mobilization to secure a safe seat at the negotiating table of the transition—where, for now, only Delcy Rodríguez and Trump seem to have a voice. The goal is not to derail the transition, but to make it impossible to move forward without guarantees that it will culminate in a genuinely democratic regime.

To avoid draining popular energy through a call for street demonstrations around a goal that may seem implausible, the opposition should focus on rebuilding trust within the broader social base through periodic, predictable, and sustained mobilizations. Once a week, for example, on a fixed day. Such a strategy would also serve to test how willing chavismo is to repress, using less combative slogans and instead pushing for modest concessions that the Rodríguez regime might already be prepared to grant.

A possible example of this type of demand was the call for the release of political prisoners loudly voiced by student movement activists, human rights groups and associations of relatives. Mobilizations have become recurrent over the past couple of weeks. The anticipated repression has not arrived, and scenes such as UCV student representatives directly confronting Delcy Rodríguez seem to signal a renewal of Venezuelan society’s defiant spirit. The unexpected announcement of an Amnesty Law and the closure of El Helicoide as a political prison are beginning to feel like hard-won gains for a sector of the country long accustomed to the sterility of its struggle.

These gains, however, have limits. The re-incarceration of Juan Pablo Guanipa as a disciplinary gesture toward the opposition’s leadership continues to reveal the regime’s sensitivities—but also its internal fractures (clashes between moderate and hardline factions) and openings for further struggle.

With the Hate Law still in force, NGOs outlawed, uncertainty over the final wording of the Amnesty Law, the persistence of state-terror structures and other detention centers, one cannot be certain that the current process of political liberalization will not suffer setbacks should the whims of the Executive shift. Even so, these remain victories that inspire other sectors. A group of workers demanding an update to the minimum wage managed to protest outside the Supreme Tribunal of Justice without facing repression.

The opposition must embrace a strategy less rooted in open confrontation and more in applying political aikido to the regime.

There is, however, a glaring absence: political parties and María Corina Machado, who, being abroad, has not managed to forge a genuine connection with these mobilizations. Without party-based political organization behind these demands, there is a risk of missing the opportunity to build a true movement capable of pressuring the government toward re-democratization.

What is lacking is the activation of leadership and a national organization capable of proposing a political program in which these demands can be recognized as interconnected. One where the strength of multiple social sectors affected by state neglect can reinforce one another.

For the opposition, the risk is not only being left behind when the ‘transition train’ departs, but also that the Rodríguez-led economic reforms—encouraged by US oil interests—could generate a new consumption and welfare boom that eventually dampens political protest. If the most skeptical sectors begin to believe that economic liberalization without political liberalization is an acceptable arrangement after decades of social decline, the space for democratic struggle could narrow significantly.

So how can this missing piece in the national political moment be recovered?

In search of political parties

For now, Machado’s return to Venezuela is unlikely without security guarantees. Nor do we believe her physical return is strictly necessary to produce an organized democratic movement. What matters is restoring grassroots organizational structures which, as the example of the Comanditos showed, are possible in our country. Especially when the cost of repression appears to be rising.

In this context, the opposition must embrace a strategy less rooted in open confrontation and more in applying political aikido to the regime. Aikido, as a martial art, centers on using your opponent’s force against them. Politically speaking, the opposition does not need to impose an alternative transition agenda on chavismo at this moment. Instead, it should take the agenda that Delcy and Jorge Rodríguez are proposing and deepen it. Where it sees a small crack open, it should place its foot in the gap until the door opens wide enough to pass through. And chavismo is already offering such an opportunity with the reorganization of the party system.

Jorge Rodríguez, as president of the National Assembly, announced that the PSUV would seek to reform the Electoral Code. A few days later, the National Electoral Council (CNE) announced the temporary suspension of the party registration and revalidation period. One hypothesis is that, in response to US demands for some degree of political liberalization, chavismo may facilitate the normalization of parties previously intervened by the judiciary and lift disqualifications barring political leaders from running for office.

Whether or not this proves true, opposition parties must seize this window of opportunity to reactivate their militant structures by convening neighborhood assemblies, open town halls, and even engaging in dialogue with communal councils to bring the legislative agenda proposed by chavismo itself into public debate.

By targeting the National Assembly as the focal point of mobilization, the opposition would not only pressure the regime but also force the hand of those lawmakers who call themselves opposition.

This requires political pedagogy from the opposition: demonstrating that this is not simply capitulation, but rather an acknowledgment that the transition to democracy is a gradual process that demands strategy, shrewdness, maturity—and, crucially, organization and active civic commitment as new pockets of freedom are won and the struggle progressively deepened. Such mobilization should aim to re-oxygenate party cadres and lend legitimacy to the proposals that might emerge during parliamentary debates over reform.

Naturally, tensions arise. The opposition deemed legitimate in the eyes of the public earned that status precisely by completely refusing to compete in the 2025 legislative elections, and therefore holds no seats in the Assembly. Conversely, opposition lawmakers that chavismo tolerates lack credibility among the broader opposition base. Yet this doesn’t need to be an obstacle for democratic forces, which can continue to pressure the Legislative branch from the outside. For instance, Machado’s leadership could call mobilizations on the days of parliamentary debate—not to oppose the discussions outright, but to demand that the people’s demands be heard in the reforms to come.

On the one hand, there is clearly no guarantee that all demands will be incorporated or that reforms proposed by the opposition-outside-the-Assembly will translate into effective legislation. But the return in militant energy and organizational capital for political parties may outweigh the legislative outcome itself, since that strengthened organization becomes the new foundation for future mobilizations.

On the other hand, by targeting the National Assembly as the focal point of mobilization, the opposition would not only pressure chavismo but also force the hand of those lawmakers who call themselves opposition yet face credibility issues. Politics is, after all, a game. The moral maximalism with which the legitimacy of opposition leaders is often judged can become an obstacle to recognizing that the Capriles Radonskis of the 2025 Assembly do not need to be wholehearted opposition figures.

One effect of January 3 was that Capriles himself—a detractor of Machado—praised her leadership position, likely driven by political calculation. Yet it is precisely these political interests that democratic forces can exploit. These positioning lines are openings the opposition can deepen, twisting not only the government’s arm but also that of these lawmakers, pressuring them to answer to the organized groups outside the Assembly. Establishing channels of communication with such lawmakers would not contaminate the democratic struggle if approached from a standpoint of strategic pragmatism.

So long as the means employed do not undermine the ultimate objective—the consolidation of a democracy grounded in memory, truth, and justice—the opposition would do well to weigh its alternatives with less moral timidity and greater political maturity.

Everybody is talking about how the Trump administration is combining carrots and sticks in novel ways in its attempt to control Venezuela’s present and imminent future. But the stances that other governments around the world have taken after the bizarre reality that the US Navy choppers left behind is also worthy of a closer look. 

Some governments have questioned Delcy Rodríguez’s legitimacy, or reaffirmed their support of the opposition victory in the 2024 election, while chavismo’s longtime allies and pragmatic regional partners have engaged with or recognized the interim government. 

A pattern emerges: cautious engagement that aims to prevent a state of chaos that would make our country a more problematic place than it already is. 

Neighbors Colombia and Brazil might favor the institutional continuity that Rodríguez offers, since the mayhem caused by a prolonged conflict would likely result in further migratory crises. China’s position appears to be financially driven, as the interest payments from Venezuela’s debt relied on oil shipments, which could be interrupted because of the increasing US involvement in the oil industry. In addition, it’s worth pointing out that Russia’s support is not as solid as previously considered, given statements by its ambassador that suggest broader divisions within of the chavista coalition. 

Other governments framed their position along with their longstanding rejection of Maduro’s legitimacy and the electoral fraud of 2024. Most of their current leaders come from conservative parties and positioning themselves as actively anti-chavismo might perform well with their domestic constituencies. In addition, their response reinforced alignment with Washington, at a time in which US foreign policy became particularly focused on the region. 

A third group opted for a delicate balancing act. While many support a democratic transition, they avoid endorsing Maduro’s removal, out of concern for future military interventions by the US, in particular because of Trump’s rhetoric on Greenland. These countries also emphasize elections and negotiated solutions. A notable addition of this group is Turkey, a longtime Maduro ally now seeking to preserve working relations with Washington amid shifting regional dynamics, particularly in Syria.

Colombia

Beyond “respecting” her swearing in, as stated by the Minister of Foreign Affairs, Rosa Villavicencio, President Petro’s administration has engaged in talks with Delcy Rodríguez and even suggested that there could be a meeting in Bogotá (although her government denied any imminent trips). On January 27th, Petro also demanded the return of Maduro and Flores, alleging that they were “kidnapped” and that they needed to face trial in Venezuela. 

Brazil

Brasilia was quick to recognize Delcy Rodríguez as interim president. President Lula Da Silva condemned the military operation referring to it as an “unacceptable crossing of a line” and a “grave affront of sovereignty”. On January 9th, Rodríguez thanked Da Silva for his “support and solidarity.”

Nicaragua

In a statement during the UN’s Security Council meeting, that country’s representative condemned American military actions, recognized Delcy Rodríguez as interim president and called for the release of Maduro and Cilia Flores. The Rodríguez government also accepted the credentials of the new Nicaraguan ambassador Valezka López.

Cuba

In addition to confirming the deaths of 32 Cuban military officers during Maduro’s extraction, the Díaz Canel government remained supportive. In a speech condemning the attacks, the Cuban president said he was willing to give his “blood” for Venezuela. Cuban Foreign Minister Bruno Rodríguez was seen in Caracas with Rodríguez in a memorial ceremony for the Cuban officers killed on January 3rd.

Russia

On January 6th, the Russian Foreign Ministry celebrated the appointment of Delcy Rodríguez and referred to it as a measure to safeguard stability amidst “neocolonial threats”. Moscow also called for the release of Maduro and Flores. Later, on January 25th, the Russian Ambassador in Venezuela, Sergey Melik-Bagdasarov, claimed that Maduro was betrayed by Venezuelan security officers.

China

Foreign Ministry spokeswoman Mao Ning said her country “respected” the arrangement that led to Rodríguez’s swearing in. The Chinese ambassador Lan Hu in Caracas met with Rodríguez and stated that his country remains committed to Venezuela. Rodríguez thanked him for his support.

Mexico

On January 5th, President Claudia Sheinbaum condemned Maduro’s extraction, citing the country’s long standing rejection of foreign intervention. Mexico promoted a joint statement with Brazil, Uruguay, Colombia, Spain and Chile rejecting the military operation. 

Spain

After “emphatically condemning” the US incursion, the Pedro Sánchez government saluted Delcy Rodríguez as its counterpart. Foreign minister José Manuel Albares said that, while they didn’t recognize the official results of the 2024 election, they were open to working with her administration. They also have been in contact with the opposition with the hopes of facilitating dialogue. 

India

On January 4th, the Indian government expressed its concern over the situation in Venezuela and the “wellbeing of the people in Venezuela”. They called for peaceful and negotiated solutions. On January 30th, President Modi spoke with Rodriguez, referring to her as acting president and stating that both leaders would seek further cooperation between their countries. 

Qatar 

On January 10th, Delcy Rodriguez thanked the Kingdom of Qatar for facilitating the release of the first “proof of life” of Maduro. In addition, Qatari authorities said they were open to facilitate a dialogue for a peaceful resolution. The Rodríguez government also received the new Qatari ambassador, Salman Nabit Mubarak Abdullah.

Argentina

In an interview with Andrés Oppenheimer, President Javier Milei celebrated Maduro’s extraction and referred to it as a “liberation”. His government stated they trusted Trump’s transition plan towards democracy and peace.

Bolivia

In a statement on January 3rd, the Rodrigo Paz government released a statement showing support for “the Venezuelan people” in what he considered the beginning of a path of “recovery of his democracy” and considered “inescapable” that there is a “real democratic transition”. Shortly after Maduro’s removal, La Paz announced entry restrictions for individuals linked to chavismo. 

Costa Rica

On January 5th, President Rodrigo Chaves emphasized that his country never recognized Maduro as a legitimate leader and expressed hopes that the political transition leads to democracy.

Dominican Republic

President Luis Abinader posted on X that his government was closely monitoring the events in Venezuela, and emphasized respect for the true results of the 2024 election. Foreign Minister Roberto Álvarez said they did not recognize Rodriguez’s government, but emphasized the need to re-establish consular relationships. Venezuela’s chancellor Yvan Gil announced that these relationships would be reactivated in the coming days after cutting ties in the aftermath of the 2024 electoral fraud. 

Peru

Peruvian Interim President Jose Jerí had a phone call with Edmundo González, who the country recognizes as president elect. In a statement, his office said that he supported a political transition and hoped that the results of the 2024 election were respected.

Ecuador

Ecuador’s Foreign Affairs Office announced that it was restricting access to Venezuelans linked to the Maduro government. In addition, President Daniel Noboa celebrated the removal of Maduro by posting in his personal X account, “the time will come for all narco-chavista criminals. Its structure will end up falling all over the continent”. He also called for María Corina Machado and Edmundo González to take power. Noboa attended Machado’s Nobel Peace Prize ceremony in December 2025.

Panama

President José Raul Mulino of Panama, who also attended the Nobel Prize ceremony in Oslo, stated that his country does not intend to recognize Rodríguez as interim President. 

Chile

President Gabriel Boric condemned the January 3rd attacks and called for a peaceful solution to the Venezuelan crisis. In a meeting at the UN Security Council, Chile’s representative stated that her country did not recognize the Maduro regime and also called for a peaceful and gradual transition process. President-elect José Antonio Kast, set to take office in March, celebrated Maduro’s capture in early January and called for regional cooperation to re-establish democracy and to “coordinate the safe and expeditious return of Venezuelans to their country.”

Paraguay

President Santiago Peña of Paraguay lamented the military incursion in the region, but stated that he didn’t see “any other alternative”. He called for a democratic resolution of the crisis and emphasized that Maduro’s removal was positive for the region. Peña also attended Machado’s Nobel Peace Prize Ceremony.

Canada

Canada’s Prime Minister Mark Carney emphasized that his country has not recognized Maduro since the 2018 presidential vote, and voiced his support for a transition. However, he called for restraint and adherence among all actors involved.

Italy 

Prime Minister Giorgia Meloni stated that she is monitoring the situation in Venezuela. In an X post, she celebrated the announcement of the release of political prisoners and hoped that Rodríguez would usher in a “new era of constructive relationships between Caracas and Rome”. The Rodriguez government also accepted the credentials of the new Italian ambassador, Giovanni Umberto De Vito and, with approval of the National Assembly, named Maria Elena Uzzo as the new ambassador to Italy.

United Kingdom

Prime Minister Keir Starmer released a statement on January 3rd celebrating Maduro’s removal and saying that his government will “shed no tears about the end of his regime”. Foreign Secretary Yvette Cooper reaffirmed support for a transition in a speech before the House of Commons, urging Rodríguez to take steps towards democratization.

Uruguay

Foreign Minister Mario Lubetkin stated on January 9th that his country does not recognize Delcy Rodríguez, arguing it had not extend such recognition to Maduro. 

European Union

Annita Hipper, foreign affairs spokesperson for the European Commission, said the EU did not intend to recognize Rodríguez as interim president. In a press briefing, she emphasized that both Rodríguez and Maduro lacked electoral legitimacy. However, the European Commission has indicated it will maintain “limited contact” with Venezuelan officials.

Germany 

While initially condemning Maduro, calling for a political solution and respect for international law, the Merz government stated it was still conducting a legal assessment of US actions. A spokesperson of the Ministry of Foreign Affairs questioned Rodriguez’s legitimacy.

France

After political backlash caused by Macron’s initial reaction celebrating Maduro’s extraction and calling for Edmundo González to be sworn in, a French government spokesperson said the president remained neutral about the method used to remove Maduro, and continued calling for González to be sworn in.

Turkey

After Maduro’s removal, President Erdogan has remained moderately silent. In the direct aftermath of the extraction, his government called for restraint of all parties involved for the sake of regional safety in a statement. On January 5th, Erdogan stated that he brought up his criticisms of the military operation to Trump during a phone call.

Rodriguez calls for healing ‘wounds left by political confrontation’ while announcing notorious El Helicoide prison to shut down.

Venezuela’s interim President Delcy Rodriguez has announced an amnesty bill that could lead to the release of hundreds of prisoners, her latest major reform since the US military abducted the country’s President Nicolas Maduro and his wife earlier this month.

“We have decided to push ahead with a general amnesty law that covers the whole period of political violence from 1999 to the present day,” Rodriguez said on Friday.

Speaking at a gathering of justices, magistrates, ministers, military officials and other government leaders, the acting president said the National Assembly would take up the amnesty bill with urgency.

“May this law serve to heal the wounds left by the political confrontation fuelled by violence and extremism,” Rodriguez said in the prerecorded televised event.

“May it serve to redirect justice in our country, and may it serve to redirect coexistence among Venezuelans,” she said.

Rodriguez also announced the shutdown of El Helicoide, a notorious secret service prison in Caracas, where torture and other human rights abuses have been documented by independent organisations.

El Helicoide, she said, will be transformed into a sports, social and cultural centre for the surrounding neighbourhoods.

Rodriguez made her announcement before officials whom former prisoners and human rights watchdogs have accused of overseeing El Helicoide and other detention facilities.

The Venezuelan-based prisoners’ rights group Foro Penal estimates that 711 people are in detention in facilities across Venezuela over their political activities. Of those, 183 have been sentenced, the group said.

Foro Penal President Alfredo Romero welcomed the planned amnesty but said it must apply to all prisoners “without discrimination”.

“A general amnesty is welcome as long as its elements and conditions include all of civil society, without discrimination, that it does not become a cloak of impunity, and that it contributes to dismantling the repressive apparatus of political persecution,” Romero wrote in a post on social media.

Foro Penal has calculated that some 302 prisoners have been released by Rodriguez’s government in the aftermath of the abduction of Maduro by the US.

The organisation later released a video clip on social media of what is said showed the moment that human rights worker Eduardo Torres was released from prison on Friday night, following his detention since May 2025.

Translation: Our colleague from @proveaong Eduardo Torres has been released from prison, human rights defender, former political prisoner.

Families and rights advocates have long demanded that charges and convictions against detainees who are considered political prisoners be dropped.

Government officials – who ⁠deny holding political prisoners and say those jailed have committed crimes – report that more than 600 people have been released from prison, but they have not been clear on the timeline and appear to be including prisoners released in previous years.