journalism

US forces launched a military attack against Venezuela on January 3, reportedly killing over 100 people and kidnapping Venezuelan President Nicolás Maduro and first lady Cilia Flores, who also serves as a National Assembly deputy.

Western corporate media have played an active role in recent years in legitimizing escalated US aggression against the Venezuelan people, from whitewashing economic sanctions that killed tens of thousands (FAIR.org, 6/4/21, 6/13/22) to outright calling for a military intervention (FAIR.org, 2/12/25, 11/19/25). They also exposed themselves once again as the fourth branch of the US national security state, opting not to publish information they had prior to the January 3 operation in order to “avoid endangering US troops” (FAIR.org, 1/13/26).

The brazen act of war has elicited zero dissent from the Western media establishment, no urge to challenge Trump’s return to early 20th century “gunboat diplomacy.” Worse, with the White House pushing to impose a semi-colonial protectorate and plunder Venezuela’s wealth, corporate outlets continue working overtime to normalize US imperialist predations.

Damage control

In the weeks since the attack, Western media have made a point of referring to Maduro as “arrested” (NBC, 1/5/26), “captured” (PBS, 2/10/26) or “ousted” (ABC, 1/5/26). The choice is far from innocent. By not stating that the Venezuelan leader was “kidnapped” or “abducted,” in a blatant violation of international law, establishment journalists are normalizing the US’s rogue actions, denying Maduro the proper protections of prisoner of war status (FAIR.org, 1/20/26).

But it is not just through semantic distortion that corporate outlets have quarantined any critique of the administration’s lawlessness. Another common feature has been a certain “damage control” in covering up Trump’s most outlandish statements.

After the January 3 military operation, Trump stated in a press conference that “many Americans, hundreds of thousands over the years…died because of [Maduro].” No corporate outlets reported the outrageously false statement. (A couple of factchecking pieces—CBS, 1/6/26; New York Times, 1/8/26—addressed his adjacent, essentially unfalsifiable claim that “countless Americans” died due to Maduro.)

The attempts to make Trump’s Venezuela policy claims appear more rational are not new. For instance, in presidential press conferences, he constantly said that Venezuela had “emptied” its mental institutions into the US (X, 10/15/25, 11/2/25, 12/3/25, 1/3/26). But throughout 2025, the New York Times  (11/4/25) mentioned this absurd statement just once, and the Washington Post (10/22/25, 12/21/25) did so twice.

On the domestic policy front, corporate journalists have had fewer qualms labeling Trump claims as “false,” when it comes to ending wars (CNN, 1/20/26), immigration (NBC, 2/4/26) or the 2020 US election (Guardian, 1/12/26). But they seem happy to carefully conceal or openly parrot false accusations that build the case for wars of aggression, whether in Yugoslavia, Iraq, Libya, Syria, Iran and now Venezuela (FAIR.org, 8/1/05).

The vanishing cartel

In recent years, and especially in the second half of 2025, US officials justified escalating attacks against Venezuela on the grounds that Maduro and associates ran a drug trafficking operation, the so-called Cartel of the Suns. Trump himself, during his January 3 press conference, claimed Maduro “personally oversaw the vicious cartel known as Cartel de los Soles.”

While experts consistently questioned the cartel’s existence, and specialized agencies, including the DEA, found Venezuela to play a marginal role in drug trafficking, media outlets reproduced the warmongering claims without scrutiny, citing only the denials from the Venezuelan president they have systematically demonized for over a decade (e.g., New York Times, 10/06/25; NPR, 11/12/25; CNN, 11/14/25).

But the biggest rebuff came from the Justice Department itself. When the time came to indict Maduro, US prosecutors dropped the accusation that the Venezuelan leader headed an actual drug cartel, and downgraded the Cartel of the Suns to a “patronage system.” In other words, the Justice Department was aware that the cartel charge had no substance, and instead accused Maduro of a much looser “drug trafficking conspiracy.”

But this remarkable about-face brought no accountability for the media establishment. Having spent years echoing claims that US prosecutors admitted would not hold in court, corporate outlets chose to ignore the new development, rather than exposing their shameful stenography over the years and taking responsibility for its deadly consequences. FAIR used Google to search for reporting on this crucial about-face in outlets including the Washington Post, Reuters, CNN, NBC and NPR, and found no results.

The one notable exception in this quasi-state corporate media circus was the New York Times‘ Charlie Savage (1/5/26), reporting on the administration’s quiet dropping of its casus belli. Savage wrote that this “called into greater question the legitimacy” of the administration’s designation of the Cartel of the Suns as a foreign terrorist organization. However, the piece stopped short of challenging the US military operation and illegal kidnapping of Maduro, referring to the Venezuelan leader as “captured” and “removed from power.”

The paper of record was quick to compensate for the vanishing of a flimsy regime-change trope by bringing up another one, focusing on a tried and tested dishonest narrative: Venezuela’s alleged ties with Hezbollah, one of the main opponents of the US and Israel in West Asia (FAIR.org, 5/24/19). Under the headline, “What to Know about Hezbollah’s Ties to Venezuela,” Times reporter Christina Goldbaum (1/19/26) offered nothing but a laundry list of unsubstantiated claims from anonymous officials.

Media connivance with Washington’s official narratives to justify imperialist attacks only pave the way for new iterations. Recently, in tightening the murderous blockade against Cuba, the Trump administration proffered the totally baseless claim of the Cuban government “providing a safe haven” for Hamas and Hezbollah. While the New York Times (1/30/26) uncharacteristically reminded readers that Trump offered no evidence, other outlets (NBC, 1/29/26; CNN, 1/30/26) were happy to echo the accusation uncritically.

Holding a country hostage

The media establishment’s support for US foreign policy did not end with the January 3 act of war. Since the attacks and presidential kidnapping, the Trump administration has taken control of Venezuelan oil exports at gunpoint after a month-long naval blockade that involved seizing tankers in the high seas for allegedly transporting Venezuelan crude in violation of unilateral US sanctions.

Under an initial agreement, Venezuela surrendered 30–50 million barrels for White House–picked intermediaries to transport and sell. Proceeds were deposited in bank accounts in Qatar, with a portion being returned to Carácas at the administration’s discretion (Venezuelanalysis, 1/21/26, 1/29/26). Analysts have argued that this arrangement explicitly violates the Venezuelan constitution.

Some articles have given space for Democrats to oppose the Trump deal, but mostly on the grounds of lack of transparency or opportunities for corruption (CNN, 1/15/26; Politico, 2/11/26; New York Times, 2/11/26). Readers will find no opposition on principle to the Trump administration’s Mafia-esque extortion of a sovereign nation’s natural resources, from the president himself saying the US will “keep some” of the hijacked Venezuelan oil (CNBC, 1/22/26) to Secretary of State Marco Rubio announcing that the administration is “prepared to use force to ensure maximum cooperation” (New York Times, 1/28/26).

It is hard to find double standards, because no other nation on Earth unleashes this kind of gangster imperialism. But concerning Russia, Western media did not hold back from denouncing its “stealing,” “robbing” or “plundering” of Ukrainian minerals or grain, despite these resources being in territory that Russia occupies and claims sovereignty over (Washington Post, 8/10/22; Guardian, 12/11/23; DW, 8/28/23; New York Times, 6/5/22).

In a nutshell, when Washington imposed deadly sanctions against Venezuela, corporate pundits said these only targeted Maduro and were meant to promote democracy (FAIR.org, 6/14/19, 6/4/21, 6/13/22, 6/22/23). When the White House ramped up military threats, mainstream journalists parroted drug trafficking allegations (FAIR.org, 2/12/25, 11/19/25). When the drug trafficking charges were exposed, Western outlets reheated baseless stories about Hezbollah. And when Trump seized Venezuelan oil at gunpoint, the only mild concern was whether he would use it to enrich himself.

True to its roots in the “yellow journalism” of Joseph Pulitzer and William Randolph Hearst, the liberal media establishment is fully on board with Trump’s “Donroe Doctrine.” They have undoubtedly earned the title, to paraphrase Gen. Smedley Butler, of “gangster journalists for capitalism.”

Source: FAIR

The information cycle in Venezuela following Maduro’s capture by the US on January 3rd has moved at a stunning pace. In just weeks, the discussion of an amnesty law, the release of political prisoners, including high-profile figures such as Juan Pablo Guanipa, or the closure of El Helicoide have generated a steady stream of headlines that suggest plenty of movement.

Yet in Venezuela’s political history, first glances rarely tell the full story. A closer look reveals the traps embedded within those headlines: “liberations” that are in fact conditional releases, an amnesty bill that excludes many political prisoners and leaves key demands unmet, and the looming threat of new detentions, materialized in Guanipa’s re-arrest less than twelve hours after his release.

These gestures are not improvised. Since January 3rd, the leadership now headed by Delcy Rodríguez has invested heavily in projecting moderation and pragmatism abroad, positioning itself as the most viable partner for stability.

In that effort, the regime has often benefited, sometimes unintentionally, from the structure of international reporting itself. Part of this dynamic stems from the regime’s tight control over access, including restrictions on foreign correspondents and selective granting of exclusive interviews to chosen outlets. But it is also structural. In a polarized and fast-paced media environment, initial announcements often receive more attention than their aftermath, making it harder to trace how events unfold within the broader structure of power.

The regime understands this dynamic, and operates within it.

Confuse and conquer

What connects these episodes is not coincidence, but method. The regime frequently generates overlapping announcements, partial concessions, and selective gestures that make it difficult to follow the full sequence of events.

Over time, the regime’s leadership has learned that generating visible actions works. These actions do not need to be structural or transformative, they simply need to be striking enough to become discrete headline events. Once reported, the action itself becomes the story, while the broader context and sequencing often fade from view.

This dynamic is particularly visible in the management of the opposition. The regime has fostered divisions through multiple mechanisms, weakening cohesive action while presenting itself as conciliatory. The current National Assembly, for instance, includes figures labeled as opposition lawmakers despite significant opacity surrounding the electoral processes that brought them there, allowing the regime to project pluralism.

Shortened contextual memory, where events are reported but patterns are not continuously revisited, ultimately works to the regime’s advantage.

Similarly, dialogue initiatives involving individuals described as “moderate” opposition leaders are framed as evidence of a political opening, even when those actors lack a clear or broad mandate. In contrast, María Corina Machado and others who decline to participate are often portrayed as “radical”, not necessarily because of ideological extremism, but because they refuse to legitimize mechanisms that function primarily to buy time and reinforce the regime’s image.

The amnesty bill seems to show the same dynamic: it not only leaves many political prisoners out, but also risks fracturing victims’ groups by rewarding accommodation and penalizing refusal. However, once the “amnesty” headline circulates, the broader exclusions become secondary, and from the regime’s perspective, the immediate narrative gain may already be sufficient.

This tactic operates within a broader structural reality. Venezuela is politically complex and has been in crisis for decades. For international media outlets managing multiple global crises, sustained contextualization is difficult. Shortened contextual memory, where events are reported but patterns are not continuously revisited, ultimately works to the regime’s advantage.

Bias and competing agendas

International coverage has long interpreted Venezuela through familiar frameworks—authoritarianism, sanctions, polarization—rather than through the specific institutional degradation that defines the regime. This does not imply sympathy for the government. It simply flattens the crisis. When Venezuela is treated as another authoritarian state negotiating political transitions, the depth of institutional collapse and the entanglement of state power with coercive and illicit structures often receive less attention.

After January 3rd, this dynamic became more visible. Coverage focused heavily on the legality and geopolitical implications of Maduro’s capture, with comparatively less emphasis on the regime’s documented record of abuses. In a strongly polarized media climate, scrutiny of US actions often eclipsed scrutiny of the regime itself. That asymmetry contributed to a subtle relativization of the regime’s trajectory.

Separately, competing priorities within Washington shaped the policy debate and media coverage around Venezuela. Some actors emphasized engagement and economic opportunity, particularly regarding oil, presenting gestures such as prisoner releases as signs of rapid progress. President Trump echoed that framing, stating that political prisoners were being released at a rapid rate, at a time when Foro Penal had documented roughly 250 releases out of more than 800 detainees, most under restrictive conditions.

Differences in tone do not necessarily create media bias, but contribute to a fragmented narrative environment in which signals of progress and signals of caution circulate simultaneously.

Others adopted a more cautious position. During his deposition before the Senate, Secretary of State Marco Rubio stated that Delcy Rodríguez’s leadership would be judged not on rhetoric but on actions, stressing that pace, conditions, and follow-through mattered.

These differences in tone do not necessarily create media bias, but contribute to a fragmented narrative environment in which signals of progress and signals of caution circulate simultaneously. That fragmentation has at times extended to portrayals of opposition figures themselves. Reports citing unnamed US officials have described frustrations with María Corina Machado’s positioning, implicitly framing her stance as complicating broader strategy. When unnamed officials are cited to express frustrations, rather than to disclose substantive policy shifts, the line between reporting and narrative shaping becomes blurred.

Judging by actions, and what follows

Rubio’s standard to judge by actions is reasonable. But in Venezuela, actions cannot be read in isolation. A release, a meeting, or a legislative proposal may be factual. Yet without context, timing, sequencing, and what unfolds around them, tactical adjustments can resemble structural change.

The case of Juan Pablo Guanipa makes this tension visible. His release contributed to the narrative of progress. The quick re-detention that came hours later disrupted it. The regime does not want mass mobilization in the streets, yet it also needs to project moderation abroad. When Guanipa mobilized, he forced the regime to choose between sustaining its international image and reasserting control at home, and it chose control.

Moments like this strip the strategy bare. There is no calibrated messaging capable of reconciling a re-arrest with claims of normalization. No sequencing trick can disguise it. While the regime can often manage headlines through partial gestures, episodes like Guanipa’s expose the underlying logic too clearly to blur.

That is also where the agency of Venezuelans becomes visible. When citizens and opposition figures test the boundaries of controlled concessions, they reveal whether those gestures signal transformation or merely delay. If the regime responds with repression, the narrative of change collapses. In that sense, the limits of the illusion are not determined only by media framing, but by how far Venezuelans are willing to push against it.

In Venezuela, actions do matter, but only when understood within their full context. Without that context, they risk becoming headlines that obscure more than they clarify.

Hasan Piker has built one of the largest online political audiences, reaching millions without newsroom oversight or traditional editorial constraints. In this episode of Talk to Al Jazeera, the influential streamer reflects on bias, accountability, wealth, bans and the blurred line between journalism and digital influence. As algorithms replace editors and engagement supplants verification, we examine who shapes political narratives in the age of streaming and what responsibilities accompany that power.