Venezuelan

Caracas, April 10, 2026 (venezuelanalysis.com) – The Venezuelan National Assembly unanimously approved a new mining law geared toward attracting foreign investment on Thursday.

Deputies backed the legislation after going through the bill’s 130 articles over four separate parliamentary sessions. A preliminary version was approved on March 9.

National Assembly President Jorge Rodríguez praised the parliamentary special commission that drafted the law and incorporated amendments after consultations, underscoring the bill’s far-reaching impact.

“We have approved a legal text which will undoubtedly become a vehicle for future prosperity,” he said during the legislative session, further promising that “every mineral from the Venezuelan soil will be translated into social welfare.”

Orlando Camacho, a deputy from the pro-government coalition, stated that the law’s objective is to “attract national and foreign capital with legal assurances” as well as “update the regulations” in the mining sector.

Divided into 19 sections, the legislation establishes a regulatory framework for small, medium, and large-scale mining, as well as the state’s prerogative to declare certain minerals strategic and reserve areas for security purposes. It also creates new oversight institutions and a state-run data bank.

Under the law, joint ventures, private corporations, and small-scale artisanal mining groups are allowed to receive concessions that can last up to 30 years and be renewed for two additional 10-year periods. Furthermore, private entities can bring disputes to international arbitration bodies.

Royalties and a mining tax are capped at 13 and 6 percent, respectively. The executive has the discretionary power to reduce them as well as grant additional fiscal incentives. The new law will replace a 2015 decree that imposed state control over mining exploration, as well as the 1999 Mining Law.

Former President Hugo Chávez sought to end foreign mining concessions in the 2000s, instead pushing for a leading state role and to interlink extraction activities to basic industries in sectors such as steel and aluminum.

The Chávez government likewise revoked several concessions from Western mining companies. A number of them, including Canada’s Crystallex and Gold Reserve, went on to secure compensation via international arbitration bodies.

Since 2015, the Nicolás Maduro government turned to mining as a potential revenue source amid escalating US sanctions, particularly in the 112,000 square-kilometer Orinoco Mining Arc. Nevertheless, the sector was targeted by unilateral coercive measures, while the proliferation of irregular mining groups has generated environmental concerns.

Venezuela possesses vast proven reserves of gold, iron, and bauxite, as well as lesser quantities of copper and nickel. Analysts have also drawn attention to Venezuela’s significant reserves of coltan in addition to unconfirmed rare earth deposits.

The approved legislation will be reviewed by the Venezuelan Supreme Court before being enacted by Acting President Delcy Rodríguez. On Thursday, the Venezuelan leader praised the new law as “a fundamental instrument to modernize and improve mining” in the Caribbean nation.

“This law strengthens legal security, attracts investment, and will boost our mineral wealth toward national development,” she wrote on social media.

Rodríguez first announced the mining reform during a visit by US Interior Secretary Doug Burgum in early March. Burgum, who holds the natural resource portfolio in the Trump administration, came to Venezuela with more than 20 mining executives from US and Canadian conglomerates. He praised Venezuela’s mineral wealth and potential opportunities for Western corporations.

US companies Caterpillar and Hartree Partners, alongside Canadian counterparts Gold Reserve and Lundin Mining, were among the firms to send representatives to Caracas with Burgum. Canada’s Roland Mineral Enterprises recently announced plans to “aggressively seek out and acquire interests in Venezuelan mineral properties,” singling out its interest in Las Cristinas gold project, which is estimated to contain over 14 million ounces of gold.

In late March, the Trump administration issued three general licenses to facilitate Western conglomerates’ participation in the Venezuelan mining sector. 

The US Treasury sanctions waivers allow transactions with Venezuelan minerals, the provision of technology and services, and contract negotiations with Caracas. However, it mandates that corporations secure a special license before enacting contracts.

Washington’s licenses block transactions with entities from China, Cuba, Iran, North Korea and Russia. They additionally require that all Venezuela-bound revenues be deposited in accounts run by the US Treasury. A similar arrangement is presently in place regarding Venezuelan oil revenues, which are controlled by the Trump administration and released back to Caracas at the White House’s discretion.

The new mining law follows a recent pro-business overhaul of Venezuela’s Hydrocarbon Law, granting private conglomerates significant control over operations and sales, reduced fiscal responsibilities, and the possibility of taking disputes to international arbitration.

On Wednesday, Acting President Rodríguez announced several upcoming legislative projects to reform the South American country’s tax, labor, pension, and housing regulations.

Edited by Lucas Koerner in Fusagasugá, Colombia.

The “Cultural Re-existence” column will provide insights into how our ancestral practices, habits, customs, and traditions remain alive today because Venezuelans preserve them through the human spirit they embody and amplify. These are expressions of women and men grounded in reality, history, and a consciousness of their subjective revolutionary role, as well as their responsibility and commitment to defending life.

March, in addition to being the month honoring women, is a month of celebration centered on Venezuela’s most widespread traditional rhythm: joropo. (1) And although this is a community tradition with unique variations throughout Venezuela, on March 19 the town of Elorza in Apure state hosts a ten-day festival that draws thousands of people from all over Venezuela and other countries, to participate and enjoy concerts until dawn, joropo llanero singing and dancing contests, sports and recreational activities linked to the Llano culture, as well as culinary and artisan fairs. Another iconic date this month is March 15, since in 2014 the Bolivarian government declared “Traditional Venezuelan Joropo in All its Diversity” to be part of the nation’s cultural heritage. From that moment, this date has been commemorated as National Joropo Day.

As a community-based festival, the Venezuelan joropo in its various forms—in the eastern, north-central coastal, llanos, western, and Andean regions—has seen Venezuelan women become committed cultural creators who are conscious of their community’s identity, the very identity that has allowed them to endure since colonial times, keeping alive the feelings, thoughts, and actions that extend beyond their own lives, into the lives of their children and grandchildren. 

Venezuelan women, as practitioners of the various joropos, have had to fight—as women and as joropo creators—against the Inquisition, the nation-state, and the cultural industry for their right to exist. It is well known that these institutions demonized them for “disturbing devotion,” and even today they compel them to adopt a masculinized representation of their own identity or impose the sexualization of their aesthetic expression. There is a historical debt to acknowledge the heroic insurgency that the practice, creation, and celebration of the various Venezuelan joropos have meant for the Venezuelan people, and this debt is owed primarily to the joroperas [female joropo practitioners] for their unrelenting commitment to our identities, even during the most complex moments of our history as an insurgent people.

For these reasons, we wanted to inaugurate our column with the perspective that Venezuelan women have on this popular community festival. Through Fabiola José, we were invited to the 3rd “Mujer Joropo” (Joropo Women) Gathering, held in honor of singer Cecilia Todd and dancer María Ruíz. This was our cue to attend the “Joropazo” organized at the San Carlos Barracks in Caracas on March 15, and to participate as singers and spectators in this gathering of women, an artistic-cultural initiative that brought together singers, dancers, and musicians of all ages, with repertoires integrating both the traditional music and dances of our communities and more contemporary musical and choreographic expressions that speak to multigenerational dialogue and the enduring relevance of this popular art form.

Honoring women’s role in joropo

Carolina Veracierta is the organizer of Mujer Joropo. A dancer, writer, designer, and singer, she explained to us that the project “focuses on women not just in a supporting role but as a protagonist, a creator, and carrier of ancestral knowledge.”

“For me, the joropo isn’t just a musical genre or a dance; it’s the language through which my body and my voice express my very essence. It’s the echo of my childhood in Monagas state and the strength that has sustained me on stages far away,” she explained. “When I dance the joropo, I don’t just move my feet; I shake off my sorrows, celebrate my victories, and honor the women who, before me, kept the rhythm in their skirts and in their songs to accompany the milking of cows.”

Asked about the importance of an event featuring women exclusively, Veracierta argued that joropo has historically had “a very masculine narrative” but that women have always been present, “sustaining the rhythm and in tandem with the man’s foot-stomping.”

“Celebrating it among women is an act of sorority and empowerment,” she concluded. “Joropo has the soul of a woman.”

Amaranta Pérez, another artist featured in the event, told us that joropo brings her an immediate jolt of happiness. “It takes me back to my family’s roots between Parmana and Valle de la Pascua [Guárico state], it is a sort of therapy,” she said. “I especially cherish the lyrics that express the love for our people, landscapes, history, and the folk tales from our wonderful authors that are turned into songs.”

Amaranta defended the importance of events like Mujer Joropo to help correct women’s “unequal” participation in the artistic sphere.

For her part, singer, professor, and bassoonist Luisana Pérez affirmed that “joropo for me is synonymous with Venezuela, from its history to the yellow, blue, red and eight stars that make up the national flag.”

Concerning Mujer Joropo, Luisana explained that “it was unusual to see women playing the mandolin, the harp, or the cuatro” and that these kinds of events “are a beautiful way to reclaim the role played by women in joropo.”

More than 20 artists participated in this third edition of Mujer Joropo, demonstrating the commitment of contemporary Venezuelan women to their own history, to the artistic legacy of their ancestors, and to the responsibility of preserving and promoting the heritage they now hold.

From underground communal festivity to national identity manufactured by the music industry

On April 10, 1749, the governor and captain general of Venezuela, Don Luis Francisco de Castellanos, published what may be the first documented reference to the joropo. He did so in the form of a decree banning the Xoropo Escobillado, “…due to its extreme movements, insolence, heel-stomping, and other indecencies, it has been frowned upon by some people of sound mind…”. The official decided to consult the Royal Audience on this matter, likely due to widespread controversy, and in the meantime, warned that those who violated the ban would face public scrutiny plus two years of imprisonment, and women would be “…confined to hospitals for an equal period…”.

Although this is the first formal ban to explicitly name joropo, we cannot overlook the fact that, as early as 1532, the Catholic Church’s published constitutions regulated and prohibited popular festivals in general, especially those where the music and dances of Mulatto, Black, and Indigenous women “…disturb devotion…,” or where both sexes mingle in dance, or those where the veneration of saints was a pretext for throwing a party. 

If we consider that there is evidence that the first vihuelas [medieval Spanish string instrument] arrived in 1529 in the territory we now call Venezuela, and if we acknowledge the express order of the Catholic Monarchs to ship instruments and musicians starting with Columbus’s second voyage (1493), we could infer that between these dates and Governor Castellanos’s ban, there were some 220–250 years of incubation for what would eventually become an irreversible trend in popular culture, which the colonial order had no choice but to accept.

Although the term xoropo has been interpreted as coming from Arabic as jarabe ( شراب , sharab), for the Andalusian researcher, poet, and musician Antonio Manuel Rodríguez Ramos, the root is undoubtedly that of drinking ( شرب , shurib), and he explains that initially, this is how the festival of drinking, singing, dancing, and eating might have been called. And the fact is that drinking –alcohol– was the best way for converts to avoid suspicion from the Tribunal of the Holy Office of the Inquisition, which was formally operational in our country between 1610 and 1821.

Related to other rhythms including fandangos, jácaras, folías, jarabes, and sones, Venezuelan joropos were documented in the independence struggle that led Bolívar’s armies as far as Peru during the nineteenth century. In the mid-twentieth century, one of these joropos, the llanero, was established as the national music style and dance, though it was a version that had certainly lost its communal and rustic character. By then, the music industry, aware of the deep roots these sounds had in Venezuelans, marketed a series of commercial products featuring music, lyrics, and singers stylized to fit institutional, urban, and bourgeois tastes.

As we noted above, on March 15, 2014, the Venezuelan government declared “Traditional Venezuelan Joropo in All its Diversity” as part of the nation’s cultural heritage, recognizing it as an element of identity and unity –not only in many of our festivities and collective expressions throughout the country, but also as a collective process of community organization. The declaration of the diversity of joropos as cultural heritage was the result of a series of debates that took place both within the community of cultural workers and among research specialists.

With the same strategy of asserting the joropo not only as a dance but as a complex cultural system that integrates music, song, dance, poetry, and oral traditions passed down through generations, Venezuela proposed to the UNESCO Intergovernmental Committee for the Safeguarding of the Intangible Cultural Heritage that the Venezuelan joropo be included on the Representative List of the Intangible Cultural Heritage of Humanity. The committee approved the proposal on December 9, 2025.

Venezuelan joropos thus allow people to come together and reclaim their humanity through the recognition of their own dignity. Through parrandas, festivals for singing, dancing, eating, and drinking, joropo expresses a communal setting where agriculture, cattle rearing, and fishing were the means of sustaining life. Persecuted by the colonial order, homogenized by the nation-state, and commercialized by the music industry through jingle-franchise schemes, Venezuelan joropos also survived the journey from the rural countryside to the oil-driven urban environments.

This continuous history of persecution, denial, whitewashing, and normalization has actually pushed joropo women and men to sneak away, resonate, hold firm, reinvent themselves, and stand out in a permanent process of self-consciousness, recognition, and realization. It is not merely a connection to the land, to love, to our mothers, but to the dream of living in a free land, and the will to produce a cultural liberation project.

Note

(1) With a myriad of local expressions, joropo is the most widespread traditional rhythm in Venezuela. Its execution typically features at least one singer, maracas as percussion, the Venezuelan cuatro [four-stringed instrument], and other string instruments such as the harp or the mandolin. The most well-known variations are the joropo llanero, from the plains region, joropo oriental from the eastern coastal areas and Margarita island, and joropo central from Miranda and Aragua states in the center of the country. Listen to the songs above for examples.

Fabiola José is a Venezuelan singer. She has performed in countries across South America, Africa, Europe, and Asia. Her singles and albums are available on all digital platforms. She hosted and produced “Cantante y Sonante” for Radio Nacional de Venezuela. In 2018–2019, she created a series of videos for social media, published on her YouTube channel #HechoEnCasa. She holds a bachelor’s degree in Music from IUDEM, Caracas (2005); specialized under Maestro Tom Krause in Spain (2007); and an M.A. in Arts and Cultures of the South from UNEARTE, Venezuela (2020).

Fidel Barbarito is a Venezuelan musician and researcher, with a bachelor’s and master’s degrees in music and history, respectively. He teaches in the undergraduate and graduate programs at the National Experimental University of the Arts (UNEARTE). Together with Fabiola José, he promotes several musical projects aimed at disseminating traditional folk repertoires, integrating them with contemporary compositions inspired by these sounds. Joropo llanero. Parranda de reexistencia is one of his published essays.

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

Carlos Mendoza Potellá is an economist and university professor with vast experience and expertise regarding the Venezuelan oil industry. In this exclusive interview with Venezuelanalysis, Mendoza Potellá offers his analysis on the recent reform of the Hydrocarbon Law, the longstanding influence of Western conglomerates over Venezuela’s energy sector, and the struggle for sovereignty.

In late January, the Venezuelan National Assembly approved a reform of the Hydrocarbon Law. What are your views on the new law?

In broad terms, it is the relinquishing of our condition as a sovereign nation, plain and simple. We are not a nation anymore. We are a territory with some delegate administrators implementing decisions made abroad. Who decides? Emperor Trump, who has his proconsul Marco Rubio.

The approved law meets the maximum demands that the Venezuelan right and the oil conglomerates have been making for at least the last 25 years. The 2002 coup against Chávez was to impose something like this, the return to the old concession model. It is the fulfillment of all the dreams of the old “meritocratic” leadership of [state oil company PDVSA], the people who did everything to minimize the fiscal contributions to the country, whether that meant buying 37 refineries abroad or other disasters that wrecked the country.

The reform is a victory for international oil capital, alongside a discourse that hands over the destiny of the industry to major corporations and diminishes national participation as some unproductive “rentierism.”

The Venezuelan oil industry has gone through various stages, with varying degrees of influence from major transnational corporations, whether that is the period prior to the formal nationalization in 1976 or the Oil Liberalization (Apertura Petrolera) of the 1990s. How do we situate the new law within that context?

I believe this is a step backward beyond the apertura or the pre-nationalization period –perhaps it’s a return to 1832! In 1829, Simón Bolívar issued a decree transferring the Spanish crown’s mining rights to Gran Colombia. This, in turn, was based on old medieval law, essentially establishing that mines were the property of the sovereign, the king. In fact, that is where the term “royalty” comes from –as a tribute to the king. And in 1832, when Venezuela separated from Gran Colombia, that decree ratified the nation’s ownership of its mines. 

Obviously, oil didn’t emerge until 30 or 40 years later, but by 1866 concessions were already being granted. For a time, people spoke of “material that comes from the subsoil,” even though everyone already knew it was oil.

Our first boom was with asphalt. In 1883, Guzmán Blanco granted the Lago Guanoco concession to his buddy Horacio Hamilton, who later transferred it to the New York & Bermúdez Company, a subsidiary of the US firm General Asphalt. The asphalt boom lasted 50 years, and with it, streets and highways were built all over the United States.

But the example of New York & Bermúdez is significant because when Cipriano Castro came to power in 1899, he found out that the company had not paid taxes and attempted to collect them. What did the corporation do? It financed the so-called Revolución Libertadora led by Manuel Antonio Matos, a banker from La Victoria, which was ultimately defeated after two bloody battles. It was the first instance of foreign hydrocarbon interests seeking to control national politics. And it was always linked to the United States.

In the 1920s, then-dictator Juan Vicente Gómez tasked his minister, Gumersindo Torres, with drafting a hydrocarbons law, but the foreign companies did not like it. And Gómez told them, “Well, then, write the law yourselves!” Later, in 1936, the López Contreras administration drafted a very good law, but since it wasn’t retroactive, the companies did not mind because they already had their concessions granted.

When do we start seeing the first steps toward Venezuelan oil nationalism?

It was precisely in 1941 that Medina Angarita took office and commissioned a massive dossier on all the concessions in the country, informing the US government that Venezuela was aware of the importance of its oil. This was during World War II, and the oil companies were haunted by the specter of the 1938 Mexican nationalization under the government of Lázaro Cárdenas.

What was [Franklin D.] Roosevelt’s response? He sent a delegation from the State Department, not to intercede on behalf of the oil companies, but to convince them to accept Medina’s reform, because Venezuelan oil was vital to the war effort. The law passed in 1943 was quite progressive. Its first article stated that hydrocarbons are a matter of national public interest, and as such, concessions were granted for a maximum term of 40 years. Eighty percent of the concessions were granted at that time, to expire in 1983.

Venezuelan production grew through the 1970s, but as the end of the concessions approached, the transnational corporations began implementing policies to somewhat ease the hostility toward foreign investment.

Thus, a policy of “Venezuelanization” of the industry’s management was put into effect. That is why, when the so-called nationalization took place (1976), companies such as Shell and Creole, a subsidiary of Standard Oil-Exxon, had Venezuelans serving as president or vice president. These executives later assumed leadership of the newly created national companies. Their passports were Venezuelan, but their hearts belonged to foreign corporations!

Historically, how was the relationship between foreign corporations and Venezuelan authorities? And how did they respond to the 1976 nationalization?

The corporations grew accustomed to the idea of an industry tailored to their interests. I mentioned how they were the ones who drafted the first Hydrocarbons Law. Oversight bodies, such as the Technical Office of Hydrocarbons, were constantly undermined in their efforts to regulate oil activities. And so the companies could extract oil without paying royalties, violate technical standards for field exploitation, or export gasoline instead of fuel oil.

The 1970s were a turbulent time for the oil sector, marked by geopolitical tensions and the 1973 crisis in the Arab countries. In 1973, James Akins, the Nixon administration’s Director of Energy at the State Department, wrote an article in Foreign Affairs titled “The Oil Crisis; This Time the Wolf Is Here.” He argued that Venezuela could be key to reducing dependence on the Middle East, and that in the face of growing oil nationalism, it was necessary to cede some ground and consider other models of participation, while maintaining control over critical areas such as refining and commercialization.

Put differently, it was possible to offer some token concessions to the nationalist aspirations of oil-producing countries like Venezuela. And that rhetoric spread to the transnational corporations. The president of Shell said at the time, “Venezuela is going to have to take action regarding its oil industry,” while the head of Creole spoke of “the Venezuelans’ oil”!

There were growing signs of how the nationalization would take shape and how the transnationals were restructuring. A good example is the Venezuelan Petroleum Corporation (CVP), created in 1960. Juan Pablo Pérez Alfonzo, whom I consider a visionary and a deeply nationalist figure, had conceived it as a company that would develop until the time came for the state to take over production. But the governments did not let it grow; they did not assign concessions it was entitled to, and by the time of nationalization, the CVP was simply one more operator among 13 or 14. 

In contrast, [Petróleos de Venezuela, SA] PDVSA, created with the nationalization, did have a very clear vision from the start. I remember hearing senior PDVSA executives talking among themselves, discussing how one came from the “Exxon culture,” which was more vertical, and the other from the “Shell culture,” which was more horizontal. And these were the managers! They were the leaders of the Venezuelan oil industry, which had very little “Venezuelan” about it. What we are seeing now is the reconstitution of all these things.

Circling back to the current reform, we have seen that sovereignty is a central issue. How is it affected on different fronts?

For me, a fundamental issue is the return of concessions. Because that means going back decades, handing control back to transnational conglomerates. With taxes and royalties, the problem is not whether the rate is 30% or 15%; that flexibility existed in the past. But now it is the transnational corporations that tell the government what their operating costs are and how much goes to the Venezuelan state. There is no oversight body to verify this; instead, the company says, “I need you to lower royalties to this level” for the project to be profitable.

The return of international arbitration is also a brutal setback, because it means that disputes are not settled in Venezuelan courts, but in other bodies that have a history of defending corporate interests. There is no role left for the Public Solicitor’s Office (Procuradoría General), which is essentially the nation’s attorney. 

For months we were told we were ready to confront imperialism, but the truth is that everything is being imposed on us. Even the National Assembly is castrating itself. It has enacted a law stating that oil projects no longer require the parliament’s approval; they need only be notified. And on top of all that, there is also the constitutional issue. The reform conflicts with Articles 1, 12, 150, 151, and several others of the Constitution. But this is not merely a constitutional violation; it is a total surrender. A surrender of sovereignty that calls into question our status as a republic.

One of the issues under debate is the distinction between a country that owns oil and a country that produces oil. How should we understand the difference?

Of course, that’s fundamental. A country that owns oil simply collects royalties, and it does so according to its political capabilities. At the moment, Venezuela’s capabilities are limited, because the military cannot confront the enemy, and allies like Russia and China have not shown themselves willing to take any risks. So, there is little room to impose conditions on the US.

But this is a country that has grown used to the multinational corporations having free rein over its oil sector. Unfortunately, there are many people, within the industry itself, who believe that “the foreign conglomerates developed this and therefore have a right to these privileges.” Curiously, that is the same rhetoric Trump uses! 

This struggle for sovereignty is fundamental in oil-producing countries. We have seen this with the countries of the Middle East, which try to assert themselves but remain highly dependent on the United States. Obviously, they have the advantage of not being as close as we are. But in my opinion, historically we have lacked nationalism on this issue.

One of the arguments in favor of reforming the Hydrocarbon Law was the need to attract investment to so-called “green fields,” on the grounds that when the previous law was passed in 2001, there were many mature fields ready for development and this is no longer the case. However, major corporations have not shown much enthusiasm. What is your reading on this?

Those are fantasies about oilfields that have always been unviable; it is the obsession with the Orinoco Oil Belt. Humberto Calderón Berti, minister of mines in the 1980s and a major proponent of PDVSA’s internationalization, was already talking about green fields back then. By the way, Calderón Berti is now talking about the possibility of fracking in Lake Maracaibo, which would make the lake’s environmental disaster even worse.

The idea that an avalanche of investment is coming is an illusion, and the oil companies themselves know it. Trump talks about investments of $100 billion, but transnational corporations like ExxonMobil use the word “uninvestable.” With market volatility, no one is thinking about investing in oil with extremely high production costs. There is a study that concludes that increasing production to 2.6 million barrels per day based on the Orinoco Belt would require US $90 billion in investments and $122 billion in operating expenses over the next 10 years to drill 13,000 new wells! In other words, it is completely unfeasible.

On top of that, OPEC’s forecasts for oil demand over the coming decades aren’t particularly ambitious. (1)

So who stands to benefit from this new landscape? On the one hand, small “rogue” companies that can take on a well here and there. But above all, the conglomerates that are already here, like Chevron, which know the lay of the land and can expand their operations or make their current operations more profitable. The same goes for Eni and Repsol, which have some crown jewels, like the offshore Perla natural gas field. The corporations that come will be betting mostly on conventional fields, not the Orinoco Belt.

It is very commonplace to hear about US refineries in the Gulf of Mexico that are built to receive Venezuelan crude. That is true, but it is not oil from the Orinoco Belt! It is oil from the Oriente (East) and Occidente (West) oil-producing regions.

Let us stay for a moment on the Orinoco Oil Belt, since that is where the talk of the “largest oil reserves on the planet” centers, as well as the prospects for a massive increase in production. What are the myths and realities surrounding these deposits?

The Orinoco Belt is a geological miracle. Eighty million years ago, 10–15 percent of all life that existed on the planet was fossilized north of the Orinoco River. It is something to cry out to the heavens. But that is not exploitable oil. It is extra-heavy crude, a sticky mess that needs to be upgraded. First it must be converted into liquid petroleum so it can flow through pipelines, and then taken to be refined and turned into gasoline. 

In the 1970s, the United States saw the energy crisis coming and asked, “When conventional oil runs out, where can we find oil around the world?” In three places: the Soviet Union, Canada, and Venezuela. And where in Venezuela? In the Orinoco Oil Belt. Pérez Alfonzo spoke of the belt as “something for the future,” but the United States wanted to accelerate exploitation and sent a delegation in 1971 to convince President Rafael Caldera to begin the process. In fact, the name was changed from “Tar Belt” to “Oil Belt” to make it more attractive.

The US Geological Survey estimates that there are 513 billion barrels of “technically recoverable” oil. But that is absurd, because there is no capacity. What makes a reserve recoverable has to do with economic ability, the market, and the available technology. Nevertheless, the Orinoco Belt has been at the center of grandiose projections over the past few decades, alongside the highly lucrative business of certifying reserves.

The oil reform took place in a specific context, following years of economic sanctions that have left PDVSA in a very difficult situation. What would be an alternative path? How can the industry recover without surrendering sovereignty?

There are no magic solutions, obviously. We are facing imperialism in the Trump era; we see all its destructive potential. It is a phase where the US, paradoxically, recognizes its weakness and is entrenching itself in its “backyard.” But we must be aware that the industry’s current course is one of total capitulation.

Whether we can recover, whether it is possible or not, we must think about it rigorously, in a sovereign manner. And above all, we must have a serious plan; we cannot be dreaming of 5 or 6 million barrels a day.

There are 17,000 conventional oil wells, with the capacity to produce, abandoned around the country. Of the 35,000 wells in Venezuela, only half are currently producing. The others require investment, though not particularly large ones. And what kind of oil will these wells produce? Crude grades ranging from 20 to 30 degrees. But we need a plan, to examine wells one by one. These are wells that will produce 20, 50, or 100 barrels a day, but it is light and medium crude—the “classic” Venezuelan oil.

So, from a nationalist perspective, what does the future hold for Venezuela’s oil industry? 

The future is to build a post-oil Venezuela. This was already being discussed by theorists such as Francisco Mieres and Pérez Alfonzo in the 1970s. Then, in recent years, many began talking about a post-oil or post-rentier country, but mostly to cover up their incompetence and inability to maintain production levels.

There is no magic solution, and the oil industry will have to play an important role. But the current situation is dire. We are in a new phase of absolute political dependence. It’s not just about oil, or that the US controls revenues, imposes concessions, and so on. It is that the country has lost the ability to make its own decisions.

There are also expectations of the people, who to a large extent have become accustomed to the idea that their oil will last forever. That creates the illusion that things can improve very quickly. The path will be slow, but it has to start with regaining sovereignty.

Note

(1) The interview was conducted before the launch of the US-Israeli war against Iran.

Nicolas Maduro appeared in a New York court seeking to dismiss drug trafficking charges, saying sanctions blocking his funds deny him a fair defence. He has pleaded not guilty and faces charges that could carry a life sentence.

A United States judge has said that he will not dismiss the drug-trafficking and weapons possession charges brought against former Venezuelan President Nicolas Maduro and his wife Cilia Flores.

But in a Thursday court hearing, Judge Alvin Hellerstein questioned whether the US government has the right to bar Venezuela from funding Maduro’s legal expenses.

The hearing was the first for Maduro and his wife since a brief January arraignment, where they pleaded not guilty.

Maduro and Flores have sought to have the charges against them thrown out. Hellerstein declined to do so, but he pressed the prosecution on some of the issues Maduro’s legal team raised in its petition to dismiss the case.

Among them was a decision by the administration of US President Donald Trump to prevent the Venezuelan government from financing Maduro’s defence.

Federal prosecutors argued that national security reasons prevented the US from allowing such payments. They also pointed to ongoing sanctions against the Venezuelan government.

But Hellerstein pushed back against that argument, noting that Trump had eased sanctions against Venezuela since Maduro’s abduction on January 3. He also questioned how Maduro might pose a security threat while imprisoned in New York.

“The defendant is here. Flores is here. They present no further national security threat,” said Hellerstein. “I see no abiding interest of national security on the right to defend themselves.”

Hellerstein emphasised that, in the US, all criminal defendants have the right to a vigorous defence, as part of the Constitution’s Sixth Amendment.

“The right that’s implicated, paramount over other rights, is the right to constitutional counsel,” he said.

Maduro, who led Venezuela from 2013 to 2026, has been charged with four criminal counts, including narco-terrorism conspiracy, conspiracy to import cocaine, the possession of machine guns and the conspiracy to possess machine guns and other destructive devices.

He and his wife were taken into US custody on January 3, after Trump launched an attack on Venezuela.

The Trump administration has framed the military operation as a “law enforcement function”, but experts say it was widely considered illegal under international law, which protects local sovereignty.

Maduro has cited his status as the leader of a foreign country as part of his push to see the case dismissed.

When he last appeared in court, on January 5, he told the judge, “I’m still the president of my country.”

In a February hearing, his defence team sought to dismiss the charges on the basis that preventing Venezuela from paying his legal fees was “interfering with Mr Maduro’s ability to retain counsel and, therefore, his right under the Sixth Amendment to counsel of his choice”.

In an interview with the news agency AFP on Thursday, Maduro’s son, Venezuelan lawmaker Nicolas Maduro Guerra, said that he trusts the US legal system but believes that his father’s trial has been mishandled.

“This trial has vestiges of illegitimacy from the start, because of the capture, the kidnapping, of an elected president in a military operation,” Maduro Guerra said in Caracas.

Protests and counter-protests took place in front of the New York City courthouse on Thursday, with some condemning the US’s actions and others holding signs in support of the trial with slogans like, “Maduro rot in prison.”

Trump himself weighed in on the proceedings during a Thursday cabinet meeting, hinting that further charges could be brought against Maduro.

“He emptied his prisons in Venezuela, emptied his prisons into our country,” Trump said of Maduro, reiterating an unsubstantiated claim.

“And I hope that charge will be brought at some point. Because that was a big charge that hasn’t been brought yet. It should be brought.”

Trump has had an adversarial relationship with Maduro since his first term in office, when he issued a bounty for the Venezuelan leader’s arrest. He has frequently repeated baseless claims that Maduro intentionally sent immigrants and drugs to the US in a bid to destabilise the country.

Those claims have served as a pretext for Trump claiming emergency powers in realms such as immigration and national security. On Thursday, Trump emphasised that, while he expected a “fair trial”, he expected more legal action to be taken against Maduro.

“I would imagine there are other trials coming because they’ve really sued him just at a fraction of the kind of things that he’s done,” Trump said. “Other cases are going to be brought, as you probably know.”

The “so hot right now” meme from Zoolander has found an unlikely avatar in Cashea. As Venezuela’s preeminent Buy-Now-Pay-Later (BNPL) solution, Cashea isn’t just a startup. It is a macroeconomic bellwether. By some estimates, its transaction volume accounts for roughly 4% of Venezuela’s GDP, a staggering concentration of financial flow for a single private entity.

But being “hot” attracts different kinds of heat.

Recently, a “robotic-like” user, @VecertRadar, reported a massive data breach at Cashea. The leak was forensic in its damage, exposing 29 million store records, 15,227 partner business details, and a complete history of 79 million transactions. Shortly after, the “catch-up arc” of Venezuelan tech hit another snag: Yummy, the nation’s super-app pioneer, suffered a targeted strike on its Yummy Rides vertical, compromising rider data. When tourism wholesalers like BT Travel Solutions are also hit, a pattern emerges.

Venezuela is returning to the world stage, but it is entering through a side door left unlocked. These incidents are the canaries in the coal mine for an ecosystem that has focused heavily on consumer-facing solutions, like FinTech, Crypto and Ride-Hailing, while neglecting the unglamorous, high-margin infrastructure required to protect it.

In the big leagues of global business, cybersecurity is often viewed as a vitamin (a nice-to-have) until a breach turns it into a painkiller (a necessity). For Venezuela, the transition (not THAT one) from vitamin to painkiller is happening overnight.

While the regional Latin American cybersecurity market is projected to reach between $14 billion and $23 billion, these figures often omit the Venezuela factor: a market ripe for the taking because it is basically uncontested. This is a classic innovation’s Blue Ocean business opportunity. While some local entrepreneurial efforts remains obsessively focused on crypto-wallets and payment gateways, a massive structural deficit in data protection has created an opening for sustainable, high-margin business models.

Consider the EBITDA margins (a proxy for operational cash generation). In the software-as-a-service (SaaS) cybersecurity sector, operational health is robust, with margins often hovering around 40% (good). In a country where traditional industries grapple with heavy physical overhead and regulatory friction, these light-CAPEX models offer a much cleaner path to profitability.

Venezuela’s primary competitive advantage isn’t just its lack of competition, it’s the cost of its potential defensive talent.

Historically, the country was not considered a deep pool of digital labor by companies abroad. As regional talent-pool peers like Argentina outprice themselves and Colombian talent reaches its cost-advantage ceiling, Venezuelan developers and security analysts bring a potential high-value, cost-efficient resource. This creates a price-competitive entry point for local startups to build software that can eventually scale.

Furthermore, Venezuelans have spent a decade experimenting and building solutions to protect wealth in one of the most volatile financial environments on earth. This has fostered a unique brand of technical sophistication. Our talent isn’t just coding, they are battle-testing systems against systemic instability. If this talent can be harnessed to move from protecting personal crypto-wallets to protecting corporate data infrastructure, the exit opportunity for these ventures becomes very attractive for local and international investors alike.

Venezuela does not need to reinvent the wheel. It only needs to be efficient in catching-up. Our regional peers have already proven that Latin American cybersecurity can bring international venture capital to the table:

• Lumu Technologies (Colombia): Recently closed a $30M Series B by focusing on Continuous Compromise Assessment.
• Strike (Uruguay): Uses AI to automate simulated attacks to find holes, proving that small markets can produce global speedboats.
• Metabase Q (Mexico): Their strategic alliance with Google/Mandiant shows that local players can become essential partners for global behemoths.

The message is clear: the market is wide open for “champions” who can protect the data of both governments and the private sector.

The Cashea leak is a flagship reminder: size attracts.

For founders looking to enter this light-CAPEX space, always use the Speedboat approach. Rather than spending two years building a complex digital product in a sandbox, entrepreneurs can start as high-level consultancies. By offering assessments, due diligence, and compliance audits to major corporations or big family businesses first, a team can establish a brand of trust while identifying the exact pain points of the market. Build a custom solution, learn, MVP (minimum viable product) and pivot to a robust software solution. For my mapping of opportunities, I already stumbled with players like Niblion to begin to test these waters, but the ocean remains largely empty.

Regulation also plays a big role in this market. I’m not an expert, nor I want to focus on regulation for I see the business perspective, but doing a quick search, Venezuela does have a law centered in cybersecurity. However it does lack a unified data protection law for consumers and businesses. The current law focuses on defense and cyber-sovereignty. Maybe looking at Brazil, Colombia and Mexico, who have already done the legwork on legislative frameworks, may make our job easier.

The Cashea leak is a flagship reminder: size attracts. As big companies like Zinli (Mercantil’s own digital wallet play) and small players Coco Wallet (facilitating crypto-to-fiat transitions) continue to expand, to name a few, the surface area for attacks grows exponentially.

The typical Venezuelan focus on protecting wealth via crypto and FinTech has been successful, but with its own set of risks. Without a robust cybersecurity layer, these ventures become sitting ducks for maligned players.

For investors, the opportunity lies in light-CAPEX models with high margins and a desperate client base. For founders, the opportunity is to build the champions that will protect the next decade of Venezuelan growth. Sometimes building a startup isn’t about changing the world, but making a good and profitable solution, while making a buck down the road.The catch-up arc will be hard, but for those providing the shields, it will be incredibly profitable.e

Caracas, March 20, 2026 (venezuelanalysis.com) – The US Treasury Department has issued a new sanctions waiver as the Trump administration seeks to deepen US control over Venezuela’s oil sector.

General License 52 (GL52), published on Wednesday, authorizes US entities to engage in transactions with Venezuelan state oil company PDVSA under conditions that limit Venezuelan sovereignty.

An updated FAQ from the Treasury’s Office of Foreign Assets Control clarified that the exemption allows US companies to engage in activities related to the exportation of Venezuelan-origin oil products, export diluents and inputs to Venezuela as well as enter into new contracts for oil and gas production.

However, in line with recent US licenses, GL52 mandates that all tax, royalty, and dividend payments be made into US Treasury-controlled accounts.

Following the January 3 US military strikes and kidnapping of Venezuelan President Nicolás Maduro, the Trump administration has taken control over Venezuelan crude exports while imposing conditions favorable to Western energy conglomerates.

Thus far, Washington has returned US $500 million out of an initial January deal worth $2 billion. US authorities have also confirmed Venezuelan imports of US-manufactured medicines and medical equipment. Trump officials had vowed that US energy revenues could only be used for purchases from US suppliers and that Caracas would need to submit a “budget request” to access its funds.

The White House issued GL52 amid soaring energy prices caused by the US and Israeli war against Iran. Tehran has responded to massive bombings by targeting US military assets in the region and closing the strategic Strait of Hormuz.

Last week, the US Treasury amended licenses to allow US imports of fertilizers from Venezuela, as well as repair works in the South American country’s electric grid. Venezuela’s electrical infrastructure remains in a precarious state after years of US sanctions, and expanded power capacity is a precondition for recovery of the oil industry.

Despite the broadened waivers for corporations hand-picked by the White House to engage with Venezuela, PDVSA and its subsidiaries remain under financial sanctions, while third-country firms risk secondary sanctions should they enter into agreements without a US Treasury special license.

In late January, Venezuelan authorities approved a pro-business overhaul of the country’s Hydrocarbon Law, granting private companies reduced fiscal responsibilities, increased control over production and exports, and the possibility of taking disputes to international arbitration bodies.

Chevron and Shell, with US Treasury approval, were the first companies to take advantage of the new incentives. Chevron’s Petropiar joint venture with PDVSA was granted a new 500 square-kilometer bloc to drill for extra-heavy crude in the Orinoco Oil Belt, while Shell is set to take over light and medium crude and natural gas operations in the eastern state of Monagas.

Last week, European energy giants Eni and Repsol, who were also given the inside track by the White House, announced an agreement with the Venezuelan government for the development of the Cardón IV offshore natural gas project.

Eni and Repsol each own 50 percent stakes in Cardón IV, which has been in operation since 2009. Neither firm nor Caracas offered details on the renewed agreement, though both enterprises had lobbied for improved conditions and mechanisms to recoup accumulated debt due to US sanctions.

According to Bloomberg, ONGC Videsh (India), Maha Capital AB (Sweden), and J&F Investimentos (Brazil) are among the companies likely to receive special licenses for involvement in Venezuela’s oil sector as Washington seeks to counter rising crude prices. Nevertheless, analysts stress that the Venezuelan oil industry does not have the capacity to significantly ramp up output in the near future.

On March 11, the Trump administration formally recognized Acting President Delcy Rodríguez as Venezuela’s “sole authority,” days after Venezuela and the US reestablished diplomatic ties following a seven-year hiatus.

On Monday, Rodríguez appointed new executive boards for PDVSA’s US-based affiliates, including refiner CITGO. Asdrúbal Chávez, who held multiple roles in both PDVSA and CITGO since the 2000s, was picked as president of CITGO and its parent company, PDV Holding. At the time of writing, US authorities have not commented on the proposed new leadership for the companies, which had been run by the US-backed opposition since 2019.

CITGO is currently in the closing stages of a court-mandated auction that will see Venezuela lose ownership of its most prized foreign asset to address creditor claims against the country. The sale to Amber Energy, a subsidiary of vulture fund Elliott Management, is pending authorization from the US Treasury Department.

Edited by Lucas Koerner in Fusagasugá, Colombia.

Caracas, March 19, 2026 (venezuelanalysis.com) – Venezuelan Acting President Delcy Rodríguez tapped Gustavo González López as the country’s new defense minister on Wednesday, replacing Vladimir Padrino López after more than a decade in the post.

“We thank General Vladimir Padrino López for his loyalty and for having been the first soldier in the defense of our country for so many years,” Rodríguez wrote on social media. In response, Padrino thanked the acting president and stated that “serving the Homeland” had been his “highest honor.”

Padrino had served as defense minister since October 2014. The four-star general staved off a number of US-backed coup attempts, including the May 2020 “Operation Gideon” failed mercenary invasion. 

In 2025, the Biden administration announced a $15 million bounty for information leading to Padrino’s capture as part of a “narcoterrorism” indictment against several Venezuelan leaders, including President Nicolás Maduro. However, US officials have not presented evidence tying Venezuelan high-ranking officials to narcotics activities. 

Padrino’s removal follows the January 3 US military strikes against Venezuela that saw special forces kidnap Maduro and First Lady Cilia Flores. Despite months of defense exercises in the face of escalating US threats, Venezuelan forces, particularly air defenses, were quickly neutralized by US bombing and electromagnetic warfare on January 3.

The Venezuelan armed forces have yet to offer a complete account of the operation, including a definitive list of casualties that are said to surpass 100. Padrino condemned the US attacks and pointed to Washington’s military superiority, arguing that it would have been “suicidal” for Venezuelan air force jets to take off and engage with the enemy.

The 60-year-old Gustavo González López previously held posts as interior minister and director of intelligence services and has been under US sanctions since 2015. A career military officer, he briefly studied at the School of the Americas in the early 1990s. 

Following the January 3 attacks, González was chosen by Rodríguez to lead the presidential guard. He was pictured alongside the acting president during a visit to Caracas from CIA Director John Ratcliffe on January 16. General Henry Navas will replace González as Commander of the Presidential Guard of Honor.

Rodríguez announced several other cabinet changes on Wednesday. She had previously replaced the industry, oil, tourism, healthcare, communications, and eco-socialism ministers as well.

Jorge Márquez and Rolando Alcalá will take over the housing and electricity portfolios, respectively. Furthermore, Supreme Court magistrate Carlos Alexis Castillo will serve as labor minister amid rising demands for minimum wage increases and labor rights, replacing veteran official Eduardo Piñate.

Former Caracas mayor Jacqueline Faría was likewise appointed as the new transport minister, replacing Aníbal Coronado after two months in the post. Faría’s appointment followed a public transportation strike in Caracas as private bus operators push to increase single-ride fares to 120 bolívars, roughly US $0.25 at the present exchange rate.

Wednesday’s cabinet changes also included Raúl Cazal becoming culture minister, replacing Ernesto Villegas, who had held the post since 2017. Villegas is one of the candidates shortlisted by the Venezuelan National Assembly for the vacant ombudsman post.

Finally, Rodríguez picked academic Ana María Sanjuan as minister of higher education, replacing Ricardo Sánchez. A trained psychologist and professor at the Central University of Venezuela (UCV), Sanjuan had participated in political dialogue initiatives as a representative of moderate opposition sectors.

Edited by Lucas Koerner in Fusagasugá, Colombia.

Caracas, March 14, 2026 (venezuelanalysis.com) – Venezuelan workers, activists, and trade union organizers held marches in several cities on Thursday to demand wage increases and respect for labor rights.

A coalition of labor organizations staged protests in Caracas and over 25 other cities across the country. In the Venezuelan capital, around 1,000 demonstrators marched from Plaza Morelos and broke through a police cordon to reach the National Assembly in the city center.

“Mobilizations like the one we had today will continue and grow until the government changes its salary policies,” José Gregorio Afonso, president of the Central University of Venezuela (UCV) professors’ association, stated. “We believe the economic conditions allow for the establishment of a minimum wage as determined by the Constitution and the Labor Law.”

Afonso added that the Constitution mandates the government adjust the minimum wage at least once a year to keep up with inflation, but the last increase was in 2022. He likewise pointed to recent official figures of economic growth and prospects of increased oil revenues.

Thursday’s rally consisted largely of education sector trade unions, as well as public sector retirees. A commission met with a group of legislators at the end of the march to deliver a list of 17 demands signed by over 200 trade unions. 

A similar document was delivered to the Labor Ministry following prior nationwide rallies on February 26. The labor organizations’ demands include raising the minimum wage in accordance with the Constitution and labor legislation, the release of workers and trade unionists allegedly arrested for defending labor rights, and the repeal of statutes such as the 2792 Memorandum that suspended several collective bargaining rights.

Activists have also voiced opposition to plans to implement a pro-business reform of the country’s Organic Law of Labor and Workers (LOTTT) that would cut benefits, social security contributions, and other employer responsibilities. 

The historic 2012 law, approved by former President Hugo Chávez, prohibits unfair dismissal and outsourcing, enshrines the world’s third-longest maternity leave, guarantees the right to work for both women and people with disabilities, and extends retirement pensions to all workers, including full-time mothers and the self-employed.

Later on Thursday, the ruling Socialist Party (PSUV) held its own march in Caracas along the same route, with spokespeople urging the defense of the country’s peace and sovereignty, as well as calling for the release of kidnapped President Nicolás Maduro and First Lady Cilia Flores.

Labor Minister Eduardo Piñate told reporters that the rally was in “firm backing” of the Maduro and Rodríguez government’s labor policies.

Gov’t increases bonus amid salary debates

On Friday, unofficial channels reported that the acting Rodríguez administration had raised the monthly “economic war bonus” by 25 percent, from US $120 to $150. Coupled with a $40 food bonus, the move brings the monthly income floor for public sector workers to $190. The amount is paid in bolívars at the official exchange rate.

Venezuelan government officials have not commented on the increase. It is not presently known whether public sector retirees and pensioners, who receive $70 and $50 economic war bonuses, respectively, will benefit from similar hikes.

Venezuela’s monthly minimum wage was set at 130 bolívars (BsD) in March 2022 and has not been adjusted since. At the time, 130 BsD amounted to around US $30, but with the Venezuelan currency’s devaluation, it is now equivalent to $0.29. With the Venezuelan economy heavily battered by US sanctions, the Nicolás Maduro government prioritized non-wage bonuses as the main income source for workers and pensioners.

Trade unions and leftist organizations have criticized the policy for violating the country’s labor laws and favoring business sector interests by reducing labor costs and making dismissals more flexible.

In recent weeks, trade union coalitions have put forward proposals for a minimum wage adjustment. Center-right and right-wing alliances such as the Independent Union Alliance (ASI) and the Confederation of Venezuelan Workers (CTV) have urged authorities to set the monthly minimum salary at $200 before pegging it to a cost-of-living index.

For its part, the government-aligned Bolivarian Socialist Union of Workers (CBST) proposed that the minimum wage be raised by $50 each quarter, though it did not specify a time frame. The CBST added that, should the government deem the salary increase unfeasible, it should implement a similar increase in non-wage bonuses.

Liberal economists, including Asdrúbal Oliveros and José Guerra, have argued that minimum wage increases beyond $100 and $150 a month, respectively, might place too high a burden on the state’s budget. At the same time, business sector representatives have called for a flexibilization of labor protections and benefits.

Leftist economists, including former PSUV congressman Tony Boza, Pasqualina Curcio, and Juan Carlos Valdez, have proposed raising wages and pegging them to inflation as is currently done by private banks with interest rates.

Edited by Lucas Koerner in Fusagasugá, Colombia.

Caracas, March 10, 2026 (venezuelanalysis.com) – The Venezuelan National Assembly preliminarily approved a new mining law on Monday as part of continued efforts to attract foreign investment to the country.

Venezuelan Acting President Delcy Rodríguez had announced the new legislation last week during a visit from US Interior Secretary Doug Burgum alongside mining executives and urged parliament to act “swiftly.”

“This law will increase all the legal guarantees that can generate confidence and attract national and foreign investment,” said Orlando Camacho, a congressman from the ruling PSUV-led bloc, during the legislative session.

Camacho added that the bill is adapted to the Caribbean nation’s “present needs” and aims to take advantage of the country’s vast mineral riches, mostly located in the country’s Southeast.

Monday’s vote was endorsed by the pro-government legislative majority. Opposition deputies abstained, complaining that they received the draft less than one hour before the parliamentary session. The text will be subject to consultations and proposals before being put to a second and definitive vote in the coming weeks. 

Consisting of 126 articles split into 19 sections, the bill establishes regulations for small, medium, and large-scale mining, as well as the state’s ability to declare certain minerals as strategic and reserve areas for security purposes. It also creates a “social fund” to support mining workers, an oversight superintendency, and a state-run data bank.

Concerning mining activities, the proposed law establishes that joint ventures, private corporations, and small-scale artisanal mining groups are allowed to receive concessions. The new law will replace a 2015 decree that imposed state control over mining exploration, as well as the 1999 Mining Law.

The legislation establishes concessions of up to twenty years that can be renewed for two additional ten-year periods. The issuing of contracts is the responsibility of the Ministry of Ecological Mining Development and will not require National Assembly approval. Corporations are also entitled to several tax breaks, likewise granted at the ministry’s discretion, and can take disputes to international arbitration outside the Venezuelan court system.

The Venezuelan government is also seeking to reorganize the mining sector. A decree published on Friday ordered the Venezuelan General Mining Company (MINERVEN) to be absorbed by the Venezuelan Mining Corporation (CVM).

The mining reform follows a similar pro-business overhaul of Venezuela’s Hydrocarbon Law in January. In an interview, National Assembly President Jorge Rodríguez vowed that parliament would “adapt” laws to attract US investors in the wake of the January 3 US military strikes and kidnapping of President Nicolás Maduro

During his visit last week, Burgum touted Venezuela’s mineral riches and potential opportunities for Western conglomerates. On Friday, the Trump official announced the arrival of US $100 million worth of Venezuelan gold as part of a deal involving Trafigura to export up to 100 tons of gold doré bars worth approximately $165 million.

However, Caracas is not expected to immediately receive the revenue. The US Treasury issued General License 51 (GL51) allowing US entities to purchase, transport and resell Venezuelan-sourced gold but mandating that proceeds be deposited in US government-run accounts before being returned to Venezuela under conditions dictated by the White House.

The sanctions waiver additionally blocks transactions with companies from Cuba, Iran, Russia, and North Korea, and bans involvement in exploration and refining activities.

In tandem, the Trump administration reportedly issued a 30-day license allowing select companies, including Canada’s Gold Reserve, to negotiate mining concessions with the Venezuelan government.

Venezuela possesses vast proven reserves of gold, iron, and bauxite, in addition to lesser quantities of copper and nickel. Analysts have also drawn attention to Venezuela’s significant reserves of coltan, which has important military, aerospace, and electronics applications, as well as unproven deposits of rare earth minerals.

Former President Hugo Chávez sought to end foreign mining concessions in the 2000s, pushing instead for the state to play a leading role and link extraction activities to its basic industries in sectors such as steel and aluminum. 

The Chávez government likewise revoked a number of concessions from Western mining companies. Several of them, including Canada’s Crystallex and Gold Reserve, went on to secure compensation via international arbitration bodies.

Since 2015, the Nicolás Maduro administration looked to mining as a potential revenue source amid escalating US sanctions, particularly in the 112,000 square-kilometer Orinoco Mining Arc. Nevertheless, the sector was likewise hit by unilateral coercive measures, while the proliferation of irregular mining groups has generated environmental concerns.

Edited by Lucas Koerner in Fusagasugá, Colombia.