US military attack

As far as we know, the US invading forces that attacked the country on January 3 did not plant any mines on Venezuelan soil. But, figuratively speaking, they did, because every day, here and there, a situation erupts that is clearly a consequence of the bombing and the kidnapping of President Nicolás Maduro and First Lady Cilia Flores.

Some of these explosions even appear far more precise than the military operation – a term its proponents insist on using to describe it, despite the fact that it left more than a hundred people dead and caused significant material damage. In the four months that have passed since that traumatic morning, the country has witnessed what appear to be controlled demolitions at the very foundations of Venezuela’s 21st-century anti-hegemonic policy: the return of the US embassy; visits by high-ranking officials (including the head of the CIA); reintegration into the International Monetary Fund; reforms to fundamental laws; and even actions that appear motivated by a desire for symbolic humiliation, such as the removal of uranium from a historic but decommissioned nuclear reactor located on the outskirts of Caracas or Donald Trump’s alleged intention to annex Venezuela as the 51st state.

Every “mine” that explodes deepens a wound that, strictly speaking, is far from healing because it was inflicted on Venezuelan pride and hurts, above all, the Chavista base, but also people from other political camps who share a strong sense of nationalism.

Managing this systematic destruction of icons has been one of the most demanding challenges for the acting government, especially in terms of responding to its own supporters and to real internal power brokers, both within the sphere of popular power and within the military and police forces.

Peace and continuity

One of the most surprising aspects of the political period marked by the events of January 3 is that the country – which was invaded, bombed, and had its president kidnapped – has managed to maintain internal peace. Even more astonishing is that Chavismo, subjected to such a decapitation operation, has remained in power and has swiftly reestablished diplomatic and even cordial relations with the aggressor power.

This strange phenomenon was immediately exploited by internal and external opponents of the Bolivarian Revolution to disseminate accusations of treason. Those accused have responded by arguing that this was not a voluntary compromise, but rather concessions that any rational person would make in a hostage situation and under the threat of even worse attacks and reprisals.

In an unusual move, United Nations Secretary-General António Guterres weighed in on this debate, voicing his suspicion that there was internal collusion in the military operation against Maduro.

A significant portion of Chavismo understands the need to reject these hypotheses and agrees that national peace is well worth the sacrifice of some of the slogans that propelled this movement to rise and remain at the pinnacle of political power.

The conflict arises when it becomes clear that, for many revolutionary activists, these slogans embody fundamental principles and values.

The controversy surrounding this issue lies dormant beneath the surface, like a geological fault line that became active following the bombing. At times, it surfaces in the form of minor tremors, through the critical attitudes of figures associated with Chavismo. The ground also trembles from the doubts and unanswered questions in the daily lives of sectors affiliated with or sympathetic to the United Socialist Party of Venezuela (PSUV).

One of the voices that has been speaking out from the ranks of the organic intelligentsia is that of Luis Britto García, who has raised objections to the reforms of the Hydrocarbons and Mining Laws, which, in his view, will allow for the unfettered plundering of Venezuela’s abundant natural resources and enable any disputes to be settled by foreign courts. He also rejects the return of the IMF, given the role that this and other multilateral organizations have played in imposing economic policies that are fundamentally anti-popular.

Britto García is unwavering in his ideological and legal objections, but he is also extremely careful not to present himself as an internal opponent of the acting president. Drawing on his immense moral authority, he has taken on the role of being the public voice for many who lack the ability or opportunity to express their views.

Meanwhile, some who clearly do not wish to be named say they have chosen to contribute through their silence, as the timing is highly inappropriate for taking sides.

Others, however, have chosen to openly dissent. Prominent among them is journalist Mario Silva, who built his career as an opinion-maker on the provocative television show La Hojilla and was later elected to the 2017 National Constituent Assembly and the 2021–2025 National Assembly. With his opposition to the oil and mining reforms as well as amnesty policies for opposition figures who participated in insurrections and riots, Silva has stirred up controversy, particularly among segments of the grassroots Chavista movement that identify with his dramatic and incisive style, which was once strongly supported by Commander Hugo Chávez.

In the vacuous yet highly topical realm of social media influencers, “dissidents” have also emerged, such as Diego Omar Suárez, “Michelo,” an Argentine YouTuber and TikToker who moved to Venezuela in 2024 and had been a key figure in the online discourse on these and other social media platforms, supporting the government of Nicolás Maduro and, in the early weeks, that of Delcy Rodríguez. However, he changed his stance to speak out against treason and collusion with the US. (1)

The Pilgrimage strategy

These disruptions have further obstructed the path of the interim government, which is grappling with a very difficult economic situation; they have become additional “landmines” along the way, forcing the government to move forward with extreme caution while navigating these threats.

One of the strategies designed to maintain popular support and mobilization has been the Pilgrimage against the blockade and the unilateral coercive measures or sanctions imposed by the US and its allies.

The Pilgrimage sought to mobilize support from the Chavista parties, which in the days immediately following January 3 had taken to the streets demanding the return of the presidential couple. That demand was redirected toward calling for a Venezuela free of economic sanctions.

Beyond giving new momentum to the Chavista camp, the mobilization sought to broaden the government’s support base by prioritizing the elimination of the blockade and sanctions.

To achieve this new consensus, the acting president has capitalized on the groundwork laid by the Amnesty Law, the Program for Peace and Democratic Coexistence, and other reconciliation initiatives, such as the one established for labor issues, which allowed her to get through May 1 by decreeing increases in bonuses without committing to meaningful wage hikes.

Fundamental in this regard has been the willingness of Chavismo to cede institutional spaces – such as the Office of the Ombudsman, the Ministry of Higher Education, several vice ministries, and several embassies – to figures from the moderate opposition. It is clear that the support obtained outside the Chavista camp has been the result of these prior concessions.

What about the opposition?

In this complex political landscape, the opposition forces appear, now more than ever, to be watching the game from the sidelines, standing around the table, while the pieces are moved by the acting government and the United States.

The moderate opposition, which participated in the 2025 parliamentary elections and entered the new National Assembly that began its term on January 5, has since January 3 wavered between capitalizing on the moment by supporting the so-called “reinstitutionalization” of the country and reverting to old obstructionist tactics that are largely ineffective given the overwhelming majority that Chavismo holds in the national legislature.

From the perspective of public opinion, everything seems to indicate that this opposition faction has failed to present itself to the country as a genuine option for change, with a platform capable of rallying the masses to follow its leaders.

At the other extreme is the faction led by María Corina Machado, clearly identified as the one that demanded (and continues to demand) most vehemently that the country be sanctioned, blockaded, and attacked militarily, based on the premise that she would automatically be called upon to head a de facto government resulting from the bombing and the kidnapping of the constitutional president.

Donald Trump’s surprising support for Delcy Rodríguez’s government has left Machado high and dry. Neither her obsequious submission to the US president nor her lobbying of the Western corporate elites has done her any good so far, as she remains relegated to the sidelines – a situation that must be particularly humiliating for her.

Under the current circumstances, Machado appears more a part of the internal US political diatribe than of the Venezuelan political scene. Following her failed efforts to secure Trump’s endorsement (to whom she gifted her Nobel Prize), she seems to be actively working with the Democrats and elements of the Deep State with the aim of inflicting a defeat on the Republican president in the midterm elections.

It seems her allegiances have shifted, creating a bizarre paradox: Venezuela’s radical opposition is betting against Trump, while Chavismo feels more secure if the president who ordered the brutal military aggression does not emerge too battered from the November contest.

It appears, then, that the “metaphorical landmines” planted by the US during its brief invasion are also exploding, one after another, on the grounds of the right and the far right.

(1) Editor’s note: this article was written before the May 16 handover of former minister and diplomatic envoy Alex Saab to US authorities.

Clodovaldo Hernández is a journalist and political analyst with experience in higher education. He won the National Journalism Prize (Opinion category) in 2002. He is the author of the books Reinventario (poetry and short stories) De genios y de figuras (journalistic profiles) and Esa larga, infinita distancia (novel).

The views expressed in this article are the author’s own and do not necessarily reflect those of the Venezuelan editorial staff.

The large-scale US airstrike on Venezuela was unprecedented in modern history. The surprise attack forcibly kidnapped President Nicolás Maduro and his wife, First Combatant Cilia Flores, from Fort Tiuna on the outskirts of Caracas. The US killed over 100 people in the early morning hours of January 3, 2026, including reportedly some civilians in the neighboring Ciudad Tiuna social housing complex.

We visited Ciudad Tiuna 50 days after the US bombing to hear the resident’s accounts. We were the second “solidarity brigade” to visit Venezuela and the first to arrive by air. The delegation consisted primarily of activists from the US, along with Canada, Colombia, Brazil, and Mexico. CodePink,  Task Force on the Americas, Veterans for Peace, and World Beyond War were among the solidarity organizations represented.

Ciudad Tiuna is a planned housing complex of some 20,000 units, part of the national Gran Misión Vivienda Venezuela program. Apartments are allocated with priority to families displaced by disasters and to low-income households. As of December 2025, over 5 million units have reportedly been delivered nationwide.

We were enthusiastically greeted by a community-based club affiliated with the Abuelos y Abuelas de la Patria (Grandparents of the Homeland) mission, a government program empowering seniors in communal life. They organized a cultural presentation and introduced us to social and political organizations in their socialist city.

A woman sang for mother earth accompanied by a shaman drum. A man read poetry by Allen Ginsberg and Walt Whitman, remarking “not all North Americans fornicate with their mothers” (loosely translated from Spanish).

In a tribute to Cuba, residents said they do not speak of solidarity with Cubans because “we are one people.” They praised the Cuban’s courage, including the 32 presidential guards murdered by the US in the January 3 attack. They also highlighted Cuban’s generosity in helping Venezuela achieve “territory free of illiteracy” status by 2005. Programs such as Misión Barrio Adentro brought thousands of Cuban doctors into poor urban and rural communities to provide free primary care.

And most of all, they deeply lamented the current US military blockade of Cuba, which has prevented Venezuela from supplying vital oil to the island. The suffering imposed by Washington on the Cubans pained them deeply.

They shared a flyer titled “Never Again – January 3 – Diplomacy for Peace,” which read in part:

Neither forgiveness nor forgetting! Memory is not resentment, but the heart of the people’s dignity who have been attacked. A people without justice becomes submissive. Impunity flourishes if we do not sow justice. We will not tire of weaving unity to triumph.

Their immediate demand is the release of their president and first lady. The flyer also calls for defense of popular sovereignty, no intervention by imperialism in Venezuelan affairs, and reparations for the “offended homeland.”

The flier concludes with a quote from Delcy Rodríguez: “The dignity of the Venezuelan people is the first line of defense. We have to preserve our integrity as a people, guarantee our territorial integrity, and preserve our national independence.”

January 3 was not unanticipated but nevertheless a great shock. During a walking tour, they described the terror of the sneak attack. They told us each time the Venezuelan people successfully resisted Washington’s attempts at regime change – attacks dating back from the founding of their Bolivarian Revolution 26 years ago by then Venezuelan President Hugo Chávez – the siege has been racketed up.

Fabricio, age 11, described a sky lit red with explosions and filled with US helicopters. The elders vowed: “Never again will we allow our children to be traumatized.” Government mental health workers have since been regularly visiting Ciudad Tiuna.

They explained how they truly felt the horror that the Palestinians experience. The difference, they added, was that for them it was a single day while in Gaza it is every day.

At the time, many feared the attack could signal a protracted full-scale land invasion. Such an incursion, they warned, could well be launched in the future. (This was also the opinion of government officials that we conferred with.)

They are proud that the Bolivarian leadership remains firm and united. This they attribute to the support of the people such as themselves. The concessions forced upon the government under the threat of an even more devastating attack have been bitter to accept, but better than the alternative of greater destruction.

Our hosts described themselves as Chavistas, militants in support of the current government. Some wore shirts bearing the phrase dudar es traición – to doubt is to betray. Their lived experience is of a nation under imperial siege – in a perpetual state of war with the threat of more. Under such circumstances unity is prioritized.

They rejected speculation that the kidnapping was aided by traitors within, arguing that such narratives serve the purposes of the enemy of eroding unity by fostering distrust. They emphasized the continuity of revolutionary policy from Chávez to Maduro and now to Delcy, as she is affectionately called.

Conditions have changed but not the leadership’s dedication. They noted that regional solidarity has weakened, leaving Venezuela ever more isolated.

Before we departed, several children gave us gifts: handmade wristbands in the national colors, decorated pencils, and a book on climate change from a Marxist perspective. Our hosts also had a frank take-home message for us: “We never invaded; we liberated. Take our passion and love to give you strength to do what you must and rise up.” The hardships caused by the US sanctions – including shortages of medicine and essential goods– are linked to the failure of North Americans to restrain our own government.

Meanwhile, the wild guacamayas (blue-and-yellow macaws), which once came to Ciudad Tiuna to be fed by residents but disappeared after the bombing, have now returned to a community that asks only to be left in peace.

Roger D. Harris is with the Venezuela Solidarity Network, the Task Force on the Americas, and the US Peace Council.

The views expressed in this article are the author’s own and do not necessarily reflect those of the Venezuelanalysis editorial staff.

Source: Common Dreams