Venezuelan Opposition

Changes in Venezuela are slow and imperfect, but they are happening. The question is not whether chavismo will attempt to produce results that benefit Venezuelans, because it has no alternative. The real question is how it will do so and who is on the playing field trying to shape those outcomes.

The reform of the Hydrocarbons Law, the enactment of the Amnesty Law, and the proposed reform of the Mining Law seem to indicate that the vehicle for implementing the institutional measures demanded by the United States is the National Assembly. A National Assembly that lacks legitimacy and does not represent the majority of the country’s political sectors.

Two weeks ago, Tareck William Saab resigned from his position as chief prosecutor, and Alfredo Ruiz resigned as ombudsman. Both had held those posts since August 2017 and had used the justice system against those who think differently. Following their resignations, the National Assembly confirmed Larry Devoe as acting head of the Public Prosecutor’s Office (Ministerio Público) and appointed Saab himself as acting ombudsman. While Saab’s resignation represented a step forward, appointing Saab as acting ombudsman was a direct violation of the Constitution. These dissonant signals only confirm that the Rodríguez leadership has no political will to move toward a democratic transition.

The process to appoint the heads of the Citizen Power branch has begun with the convening of the Evaluation Committee, and once again the academic world and civil society organizations have decided to participate. The nomination of Dr. Magaly Vásquez for chief prosecutor is a clear example and reflects the same logic that led human rights organizations to participate in the discussions around the Amnesty Law: when civil society comes together, it can take advantage of even minimal conditions to make itself heard and push decision-making toward, at the very least, more “palatable” outcomes.

Will a future democratic government treat the Amnesty Law as illegitimate? Will the hydrocarbon contracts signed by the interim government of Delcy Rodríguez be recognized?

In this process, as in the legislative debates mentioned earlier, there is an absence: the representation of all the country’s political actors. This absence (which includes a large portion of the opposition) is not simply an act of selfishness. On the contrary, their position is rooted in values and principles that prevent them from recognizing any legitimacy in the National Assembly. That stance deserves respect and admiration. However, it is worth asking whether that inflexible position is preventing them from becoming involved in processes that are producing real consequences for real people, inside and outside the country.

We know that these steps are not gestures of democratization. They appear instead to be targeted concessions designed to manage external pressure and preserve power. But achieving the appointment of a credible chief prosecutor or ombudsman could, even if only gradually, begin to rebuild a degree of institutional independence.

This leads me to ask those in the opposition who still remain on the sidelines: if we do not recognize these processes from their origin, what happens to their results when an eventual political change arrives? Will a future democratic government treat the Amnesty Law as illegitimate? Will the hydrocarbon contracts signed by the interim government of Delcy Rodríguez be recognized? Will the institutional reforms that may emerge within the framework of the path outlined by the US be rejected? These questions arise when one notices the absence of the main political figures, or when their presence remains limited to criticism.

These are not rhetorical or ill-intentioned questions. Nor is this about abandoning principles. Rather, it is about recognizing that civil society organizations need backing, especially from political parties and movements. As was demonstrated on July 28, 2024, when society’s desire for change translates into participation and is channeled by political parties, it becomes an overwhelming movement with the potential to materialize that will for change.

At the same time, we must be realistic: the response of opposition leaders cannot be unconditional recognition of the National Assembly. Structurally, it remains an instrument of authoritarian control. What can materialize, however, is support for civil society in the processes in which it is already participating. These expressions of support do not seek to legitimize lawmakers elected under questionable circumstances. Rather, they seek to recognize the work and struggle of the intermediary organizations that are fighting to open spaces for institutional life.

Turning this transition into a Venezuelan process requires Venezuelan actors to claim leadership over the institutional processes now unfolding.

A clear example of support could be the one mentioned earlier. The process to appoint the heads of Poder Ciudadano should not be rejected from the outset. Instead, those who have chosen to submit their candidacies before the National Assembly’s Evaluation Committee—and who possess the necessary technical and civic credentials—should receive public support, while their names are circulated in the public arena. Put more plainly: make noise about it. Doing so would increase the cost for the regime, in the eyes of the Trump administration, of selecting individuals who are the complete opposite: people without technical qualifications or chosen solely for political loyalty.

Choosing to support participation from an external position carries implications that become clearer with every issue appearing on the legislative agenda. The reform of the Mining Law presented this week, for example, cannot follow the path taken by the Hydrocarbons Law, which was approved without consultation, transparency or the participation of those who will bear its costs.

Venezuelan scholars, environmental organizations, and Indigenous communities must be sitting at the table in the discussions on the mining law. And the opposition, if it truly aspires to represent Venezuelans and not simply oppose the regime, could present its own reform proposals to the organizations that decide to participate in the process. In this way, participation would be effectively “outsourced.” The direct actors are not recognized, but the work of leading institutions is acknowledged.

What is at stake is more than a specific law or appointment. January 3 set in motion a process of transition in Venezuela that we hope will reach a safe harbor and conclude with free elections. But we cannot forget that there is also a risk that these changes will become little more than a negotiation between the US and remnants of chavismo. Turning this transition into a Venezuelan process requires Venezuelan actors to claim leadership over the institutional processes now unfolding. On one side, civil society must act as the principal driver. On the other, the opposition must decide whether it will remain on the margins or become an active ally.

Transitions are never perfect, because in most cases the preexisting institutions are not trustworthy. Yet decisions made within those institutions tend to be more durable than the circumstances that gave rise to them. Participating in a flawed process does not mean surrendering one’s principles. Refusing to acknowledge the reality of the moment, by contrast, allows others to shape what will become the legal and institutional architecture of the transition. And possibly, the political landscape of the coming decades.

Two months after January 3, the country has found itself at an unprecedented crossroads with three main political actors: the chavista regime, the government of the United States, and the Venezuelan opposition.

Chavismo now faces a historically unique situation after 27 years of political (as well as social and economic) control. It is under pressure from the US to move toward a transition, while at the same time trying to contain the tensions that exist within its own internal structures.

For its part, Washington is trying to steer a transition in Venezuela that is acceptable for both its domestic and foreign policy, leveraging the influence it gained from the capture of Nicolás Maduro and Cilia Flores over both the regime and the opposition.

And the opposition has entered a situation of undeclared conflict. In just a few days, the opposition landscape has shifted in unimaginable ways, with the perception of inaction from María Corina Machado, the sudden emergence of Enrique Márquez during the State of the Union address, and the rest of the opposition reassessing its options.

The inevitable amid uncertainty

The path toward a transition at this moment is uncertain. The regime is seeking a balance between satisfying US demands while avoiding, as much as possible, the deterioration of its own internal political and economic arrangements. At the same time, it continues to move quickly to consolidate control over the process, and more and more details are emerging about how it is setting the guidelines for the Rodríguez siblings. For instance, the visit this week by Secretary of the Interior Doug Burgum.

The opposition universe appears to be an earthquake, above all amid the practical disappearance of María Corina Machado from public debate and, more recently, the “Márquez effect,” whose medium or long-term impact remains uncertain. Where there is consensus, however, is on the need for a new election. Marco Rubio, María Corina Machado, and now Enrique Márquez are on the same page: there must be new elections that legitimize the political transition. As for the Rodrigato, we can imagine what it thinks about that.

A new election to choose the opposition’s presidential candidate would be a way to confront several elephants in the room.

Until just a few days ago, it would have been easy to argue that the opposition’s presidential candidate should be Machado. After all, the results of July 28, 2024 were fundamentally the result of her leadership, and she would have been the presidential candidate if the Maduro regime had allowed it.

But Márquez’s appearance in Washington DC and his subsequent press conference suggested that this Zuliano “black swan” could be acting with the acquiescence of both the Rodrigato and the Trump administration. Evidence of this includes Márquez being invited to Trump’s address, as well as his comments about a figure as close to the Rodríguez siblings as José Luis Rodríguez Zapatero.

For that reason, it now seems that there will be an election sooner or later. It also seems that, as things stand today, we could head into that election with at least two candidates on the opposition side.

That would be a good scenario for the Rodrigato.

New primaries

In times of legitimacy crisis, the proper course is to look to the sovereign. Given everything that has happened, it seems necessary to call a new primary vote to choose an opposition candidate—whoever the Rodrigato’s candidate may be—in the presidential election that must take place given Maduro’s absolute absence.

A new election to choose the opposition’s presidential candidate would be a way to confront several elephants in the room. The first is the need to present the other two actors (the regime and the United States) with an electoral calendar that should not be unnecessarily delayed. The second is the convenience of unifying and strengthening party structures. If the process is well managed, it could encourage a reunion of the different opposition forces around a common and higher objective.

Another elephant shaking Venezuela’s narrow public space is the urgency of restarting citizen mobilization around a concrete political initiative. Finally, those primaries could once again make it possible to go into a presidential election with a single candidate, preventing the regime from promoting multiple “opposition” candidacies to divide the electorate.

The primaries that chose Henrique Capriles as the candidate for the 2012 presidential election, and the primaries that selected María Corina Machado as the candidate for the 2024 presidential election, were good precedents for successfully resolving several political problems. Considering the sovereign is a good idea, or at least most of the time.

Even if we aren’t yet in a place where we can say that a democratic transition has begun, election talk is back, and with it, the activity of political parties, as many political prisoners are being released and some being granted full freedom. The old reflexes of electoral politics, that constitute the backbone of all political forces in Venezuela, are kindling again after the long, hard night of brutal repression that came with the steal of the July 2024 presidential election. The unsaid assumption is that Edmundo González Urrutia already did his historical role, and that fresh elections with a new CNE and a new TSJ must come to effectively start a democratic transition and put in place an essential component that has been missing for years, and is still missing after January 3: the people’s will.

A recent poll by Gold Glove Consulting, based on 1,000 in-person interviews on the ground, found that María Corina Machado would capture 67% of the vote against Delcy Rodríguez in a hypothetical head-to-head, although the latter’s tenure in office isn’t met with complete rejection by many respondents. The idea of that matchup remains a cherished possibility among Machado’s staunch supporters, who would love to see her being allowed to run in a presidential election against PSUV for the first time. But with the opposition leader still in Washington DC, and a domestic political ban still in place, others have emerged from the opposition dugout to stir up the yearning for change that the 2024 electoral campaign awakened.

People have seen how presidential pre-candidate Delsa Solórzano and Primero Justicia leader Juan Pablo Guanipa, visible members of Machado’s campaign entourage in 2024, have come back to give press conferences and even stir the pot, challenging the newly enacted amnesty law and demanding more releases (which initially earned Guanipa a few days in house arrest). In a new effort to embody a non-aligned or centrist lane, former presidential candidate Enrique Márquez showed up at the US Congress in a seemingly staged TV moment meant to let Trump boast about the success of his Venezuela operation. There has been speculation about whether Márquez was being considered as the White House’s favorite for a transition, and the Zuliano politician started to speak like a man with a mission, even if he got only a tiny fraction of the vote in 2024 (minor runners including Márquez, Antonio Ecarri, and the faux AD candidate Luis Eduardo el Burro Martínez together garnered 2%).

The most coherent voice in the Trump administration, Secretary Marco Rubio, said last week during a summit in St. Kitts and Nevis that “ultimately, in order for them [us Venezuelans] to take the next step to truly develop that country and to truly benefit from that country’s riches for the benefit of their people, they will need the legitimacy of fair, democratic elections.” Other US officials had mentioned that the US expects to see elections taking place in Venezuela around 2027. They know that a legitimate government—and Delcy Rodríguez’s local management is not one—would not only give more confidence to foreign investors, especially if such a government is not burdened with a history of expropriations as chavismo is. It would be free of sanctions and have access to multilateral organizations, financial aid, international arbitrage, commercial treaties, and diplomatic and commercial relations with everyone. Machado’s message last weekend, announcing plans to return to Venezuela in the coming weeks, revitalized electoral spirits in parts of the country and gave opposition parties fodder to build suspense on social media.

Could Vente be Venezuela’s largest movement? Potentially. Machado remains undisputed as the country’s dominant political leader.

As calls for the release of political prisoners evolve into a broader push for a true democratic transition, the country’s political heat map is beginning to warm up. Let’s examine how party movements are re-emerging: who the opposition is coalescing around, the numbers that might back each group, and which players are positioned to exert influence.

Vente Venezuela

Machado’s party was founded in 2012, and after a decade being a marginal group in the anti-Maduro coalition, it managed to exploit María Corina’s 2023-2024 electoral marathon by catching a wave of new recruits, which is not uncommon when a party with a suddenly popular leader takes the reins of the opposition. But this transformation is not just a product of public disaffection with the mainstream G4 parties (the interim government of Guaidó being the latest, crucial example). The Machado phenomenon and her connection with deprived Venezuelans produced the country’s most formidable electoral force since Hugo Chávez, and its performance in 2024 can put Vente among the strongest parties in the country. Except for a minor detail: the CNE has never allowed it to register as a political party—if elections were held in Venezuela tomorrow, its candidates would need to use the MUD slot to run (unless the likes of Capriles and Rosales also decided to support them).

Could Vente be Venezuela’s largest movement? Potentially. Machado remains undisputed as the country’s dominant political leader (with a 52% approval rating according to the Gold Glove Consulting survey) and her party saw significant growth two years ago. Of course, these organizations don’t disclose their actual membership numbers, and if they did so (even before an internal audience) they would almost certainly inflate the figures. Whatever the scale of the actual growth, Machado is faced with two realities. Number one: Vente’s human capital is unable to cover the country’s 30 thousand polling stations, and as in 2024, it would need help from other experienced parties and regional platforms to attempt a repeat of the 28J feat. And number two: Venezuelan politics is waking up from a calamitous hangover lasting from the last presidential vote to the US intervention on January 3rd, a period where Machado’s party bore the brunt of State terror.

Around 150 members were arrested soon after the CNE declared Maduro the elected president, while Machado had to hide and her top aides were besieged in the Argentinean Embassy in Caracas. Since Delcy took power, however, Vente Venezuela and other parties have turned the release of political prisoners into a public celebration, which is both a challenge to the security apparatus still in place, and a recognition for much-needed activists (and their families) after months of despair, where it was natural for many of them to question whether being in politics was worth the risk. Reassured by the level of American surveillance on the interim post-Maduro management, Vente activists have started to meet again, and you can see how they are summoning small groups in places like Margarita municipality Antolin del Campo, Guama in Yaracuy or Monay in Trujillo. In Portuguesa, María Oropeza, the local leader who became famous when she broadcasted her detention in Acarigua, has openly spoken about how to rebuild a true democracy. In Mérida, they gathered an even larger crowd, while Machado summoned party supporters in the US for a meeting in Washington DC. She has insisted she is ready to lead a genuine transition, offering her own timeframe and reform goals to challenge other stakeholders in the current political process. On February 5, she told Politico that elections could be organized within nine to ten months, not with the existing electronic machines, but by shifting to a manual voting system that for over a decade she has claimed would make domestic elections more effective and transparent.

Acción Democrática, Primero Justicia & Voluntad Popular

Acción Democrática is a historical party in a permanent state of survival-through-maneuvering; the other two (Primero Justicia and Voluntrad Popular) were once led by charismatic young figures meant to be a new generation of politicians that would lead the country into a new era and failed because dictatorship. Today, they all seem to be placing their cadres at the service of a Machado-led democratic transition. Two days ago in Valencia, AD’s Henry Ramos Allup said in front of his national leadership board that the party would endorse Machado in a presidential election—“with a dedicated and generous campaign”—if that’s what it took to get rid of the Delcy Rodríguez regime. Party Vice President Édgar Zambrano didn’t look too happy and didn’t applaud, but Ramos Allup is the boss, one that knows very well that AD could again fall to irrelevance if Maria Corina gave him the Capriles treatment (bear in mind that Acción Democratica was the last mainstream party that decided to boycott the May 2025 regional vote, where Capriles and Un Nuevo Tiempo formed an ephemeral alliance that could not win a single governorship while Machado called for abstention, something she later labelled an outright victory).

It’s no wonder that Primero Justicia members are relieved to know they have a national leader that has the charisma to be a presidential contender at some point.

The other two parties were also hit hard during the post-election crackdown, with leaders from recent years like María Beatriz Martínez and Paola Bautista from PJ still in hiding or exiled, or Freddy Superlano as an emblematic victim of forced disappearance and abuse. But these organizations will benefit from having Juan Pablo Guanipa and now Superlano roaming the streets again. In the case of Guanipa, who María Corina considers a dear friend (not just an ally), he has the potential to be more than a supporting actor in a democratic transition. Many opposition supporters see him as a brave, honorable figure that never bent the knee before chavismo, with tons of energy to address crowds and journalists whenever he has a chance, even instants after setting foot outside El Helicoide for the first time in eight months.

The re-arrest episode a few weeks ago only showed he’s still a man eager to talk truth to power sin medias tintas, like demanding the release of all political prisoners and the return of fellow politicians in exile. It’s no wonder that PJ members are relieved to know they have a national leader that has the charisma to be a presidential contender at some point—somewhere Julio Borges couldn’t get to, and a position a now-ostracized Henrique Capriles couldn’t cement—but we’ll see where that leaves him as long as María Corina tries to land in Miraflores. Machado will require the organizational structures these leaders command once an electoral process begins to unfold. In turn, these leaders recognize that Machado represents their best chance to be part of (or at least influence) a democratic national government that would allow them to capitalize on decades of anti-chavista struggle and serve as core components of a new era’s party system.

Bancada Libertad: the Capriles-UNT faction

Capriles and Tomás Guanipa finally broke away from Primero Justicia last year, having negotiated with the regime to lift their individual political bans. This allowed them to run in the parliamentary elections and secure an official CNE slot for their fledgling platform, Unión y Cambio. The former PJ figures are not the loudest voices in the National Assembly presided over by Jorge Rodríguez; that role has been assumed by their Un Nuevo Tiempo partners—Stalin González, Nora Bracho, and Luis Florido—alongside occasional interjections from former presidential candidate Antonio Ecarri, whom Rodríguez silences from time to time.

In terms of numbers, none of these figures know their true vote count from 2025. While CNE Rector Carlos Quintero claimed they got 5% of the total (roughly 300,000 votes), they did not demand the physical tally sheets as the Edmundo González coalition had done in 2024 (which both Capriles and Stalin were part of). That silence has to do with the fact that Jorge Rodríguez granted them approximately ten more seats than a correct application of the seat-allocation method would have yielded, but that’s that.

Delcy fares better in terms of popularity than security chiefs like Cabello and Vladimir Padrino, or even Capriles.

Are Capriles et al a significant political force? Not in the slightest. Their relevance is derived from being the only non-chavista group currently permitted to participate in elections, opposite to Vente Venezuela and others. They serve as a useful ‘legitimate’ counterpart for Delcy Rodríguez when sanctioning laws or naming new public officials, like we just saw with the appointment of Larry Devoe as Chief Prosecutor and the passage of the amnesty law (the latter featured a poor simulation of a debate with the Libertad fraction, while the critical fine print was being negotiated exclusively among chavistas who control the National Assembly). María Corina Machado views this group as irrelevant to any effort to influence the Rodríguez siblings’ agenda. However, political calculus shifts when elections appear on the horizon. A pivotal reform to the Organic Law of Electoral Processes, now in preliminary stages, may be enough to set old political gears back in motion.

Delcy Rodríguez and the chavista amalgam

The unpopular Diosdado Cabello continues to represent the eternal revolution (even if his characteristic aggressiveness has toned down after the capture of his boss), taking part in PSUV events or attempting to lead a lacking PSUV youth. The Rodríguez tribe might be looking for an electoral rebrand that creates some distance between a discredited PSUV and the technocratic style they want to project.

They know that their status is being reassessed by an electorate that wants quick economic reforms and sees compliance with the United States as favorable. As both the Gold Glove Consulting poll and a February study from Latam Pulse show, Delcy fares better in terms of popularity than security chiefs like Cabello and Vladimir Padrino, or even Capriles. The obvious strategy for the Rodríguez siblings is to capitalize on their time in power by tethering their image to potential improvements in the economy and quality of life, pressing concerns that (they hope) would cushion demands for democratic elections. In other words, they would reasonably try to rule long enough for the public to associate them to a limited recovery, and not the horrors they were part of, eventually running in future elections under banners no longer synonymous with devastation. Delcy may have some of that infrastructure: eight years ago, she founded a progressive political party under the revolutionary umbrella, Movimiento Somos Venezuela, and the Héctor Rodríguez-led Movimiento Futuro (the Chávez-era golden boy, unrelated to Delcy and Jorge) waits in the wings to finally break through with a sanitized version of chavismo claiming to foster youth sports and cultural activities within the framework of the Communal State.

We might see old-school, Siberia-based chavistas like Miguel Rodríguez Torres joining this camp. Old supporters of the former interior minister and political prisoner (2018-2023) are already promoting him as a reasonable acquisition for the Delcy cabinet. And he seems to have a tailwind compared to folks like Cabello, who look condemned, with no place in the future. Tensions that became evident during the amnesty bill’s saga might be early signs: the alliance we have known as the Gran Polo Patriótico could split, sooner or later.

Donald J. Trump was approaching the end of the longest State of the Union address that has been unwrapped before the US Congress since 1964, when he pivoted toward what has happened around “our new friend Venezuela” since the capture of Nicolas Maduro and Cilia Flores on January 3. He talked about the millions of barrels en route to the US and celebrated how the collaboration with Delcy Rodriguez is helping to boost the economies of both countries, giving renewed hope for families who have suffered in Venezuela. And then, he said that, right there, among those seated in front of him, was Alejandra González, the niece of Venezuela politician Enrique Márquez, who had been jailed but was released after the Maduro extraction. Trump then announced, Oprah style, that her uncle was there. “Come down, Enrique!” Trump said, a door just behind González opened, and Márquez entered amid a round of standing applause to embrace his niece.