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The Insurgent History column will offer the perspective of Venezuelan historians on key past episodes and their relevance in the present context. (Venezuelanalysis)
The January 3 US strikes in Caracas have no historical precedent, not only for Venezuela but for all of South America. It was the first US military attack against a capital in this part of the world in our history as independent nations.
To understand the underlying motivations behind such an outrageous bombing of Caracas, and going beyond the professed US interests in the country’s natural resources, we have to understand the position, the ideas, and the role played by elites in shaping key areas of national interest, including the concept of sovereignty, the nation’s resources, the model of state, and Venezuela’s foreign relations – in their own image, over the nineteenth and twentieth centuries. This meant the imposition of a political thought and socioeconomic model that ended up, above all, benefiting the Spanish-descendant or Creole oligarchy, which had been known in colonial times as the mantuanos.
Venezuela emerged from the sixteenth-century Spanish conquest as what is known in Venezuelan historiography as the “colonial-implanted society” (1), that is, a settler formation. At its zenith, it was a Creole elite with ample economic privileges but with a highly restricted political reach, limited to participation in municipal town halls (“cabildos”). This privileged sector was the dominant political class in colonial society for three centuries, with deep Hispanic cultural roots, a notion of superiority towards the popular classes alongside a complex of inferiority towards peninsular Spaniards who controlled the political and administrative affairs of the colony.
Between 1810 and 1816, the Creole elite played a leading role in the national independence struggle. Later, during his Caribbean tour of Jamaica and Haiti, the Liberator Simón Bolívar managed to pierce through his social and ideological class blinders, thus evolving from a mere mantuano military chief to become the revolutionary leader of the process of Venezuelan and South American emancipation. The historic step was taken through the decree issued in July 1816, in Ocumare de la Costa, with the momentous incorporation of enslaved people into the independence struggle, promising freedom, land, and citizenship to all those who answered the patriotic call. This revolutionary act, like many others in Bolívar’s life, would provoke splits and internal conflicts among military leaders and patriotic politicians, which would later lead to the separation of Gran Colombia in 1830 and the creation of Venezuela as an independent state. Likewise, the founding of the new Venezuelan republic in that same year by the Creole elites was essentially based on anti-Bolivarian political and ideological foundations, and it would undergird the model of the state and the socioeconomic system to be maintained until the end of the twentieth century. (2)
The main political positions assumed by Bolívar during his lifetime certainly did not please certain social sectors within independent America. His clear vision of a centralist government in contrast to the federal model adopted in the United States; his desire to grant freedom to enslaved Black people so that they could become citizens with full rights; his ideal of Colombian unity and the creation of a confederation of independent American states under a model of regional integration –all these plans became factors of discord and internal disagreement among the Venezuelan elites who, together with seditious elements in New Granada and Quito, ultimately brought about the disintegration of Gran Colombia.
At the same time, in 1823, a geopolitical doctrine emerged from the United States that would mark the history of US interventionism in the hemisphere to this day. Known as the Monroe Doctrine, it proclaimed US hegemony over political, economic, and military affairs in the hemisphere, against any intervention from outside the region and in favor of US capital, exacting a horrific toll on the peoples of Latin America and the Caribbean over the last two centuries.
In Venezuela, the entire first century of republican life was marked by struggles between liberal and conservative elites. Conservative sectors launched political campaigns against liberal factions with the hidden intention of handing the country over to foreign interests while securing their own economic benefits. Once the republic was established, internal strife prevented the Venezuelan political class from even diplomatically agreeing on the border limits with Colombia, eventually leading the country to lose vast territories due to external interference before the borders with our neighbors were ultimately settled. (3) Later, amid the post-1858 crisis, Conservative Creole elites even promoted the creation of an English protectorate in Venezuela, with Pedro Gual and Manuel Felipe Tovar appealing to the then United Kingdom chargé d’affaires in Venezuela, Edward St. John, for British intervention in order to prevent the Liberal Party from coming to power with the support of the African-descendent masses. It was this ongoing political hostility between these two parties for almost three decades that, over time, inevitably degenerated into the so-called Federal War or Long War, between 1859 and 1864, the last episode of civil war in the country.
Thus, throughout the nineteenth century, Venezuela lost all the political power it had gained during independence, all the accumulated military power that had led it to victory across the continent, and all its productive and economic capacity. It became trapped in a monoculture agricultural dependency based on coffee and cocoa crops. In addition, during these times of neglect, the country became a republic without the material capabilities needed to institutionalize a central state that did not even have its own infrastructure until 1873, when the first part of the Federal Legislative Palace was finally built.
Later, at the end of the nineteenth century, during the government of General Cipriano Castro, a military chief from the southwestern Andean state of Táchira who put an end to the struggles between liberal and conservative elites, the country once again fell victim to imperialist designs on the national wealth. In 1899, in the so-called Paris Arbitration Award, Venezuela was stripped of a significant part of its eastern territory when it lost Guayana Esequiba to the British Empire, thanks to the legal assistance of Russia, acting as judge, and the United States, as the supposed defender of Venezuelan interests before the international courts.
A few years later, in 1902, Venezuela was once again the target of imperialist threats through diplomatic siege and international media campaigns against the government by the UK, Germany, and Italy. Under the pretext of collecting debts acquired by the Venezuelan state, the European powers imposed a naval blockade and took over the ports of La Guaira and Maracaibo. These events were clearly acts of intervention intended to trigger a military invasion of the country, supported by elite sectors in favor of the presence of imperialist forces in the country.
There has thus been a clear continuity in the servility of the Creole oligarchy to imperial powers since the nineteenth century, with the appeal for an English protectorate, followed by whitening immigration policies, territorial dispossession, and a naval blockade. In the twentieth century, the subordination took the form of oil concessions, with petroleum becoming a key battleground for class struggle. Fast forward to the present, over the past 27 years, Venezuela under the Bolivarian Revolution, has been the target of relentless US-led hybrid warfare, with traditional manutano elites like María Corina Machado openly calling for a US military intervention.
These internal and external efforts to dismantle the sovereign national project and seize the country’s vast wealth and resources finally culminated in the January 3 US bombing of Caracas and kidnapping of President Nicolas Maduro, bringing two centuries of republican history full circle.
The Insurgent History column features Venezuelan historians who explore key episodes of the country’s nineteenth and twentieth century history and their relevance for the present.
The views expressed in this article are the author’s own and do not necessarily reflect those of the Venezuelanalysis editorial staff.
Christian E. Flores G. (Caracas, 1974) holds a bachelor’s degree in History from the Central University of Venezuela and MSc. in Venezuelan History from the National Experimental University of the Arts (UNEARTE). He currently serves as Director of Research and Historical Advisory Services for the Venezuelan National Assembly, Professor of Critical History of Puntofijismo (1958-1999) and Critical History of the Bolivarian Revolution at UNEARTE. He’s a researcher with more than 20 years of experience, and some of his published books are: 4F: Collapse of the Puntofijista Parliamentand 1815-2015, bicentennial of the Letter from Jamaica, in addition to articles and papers in Venezuelan and international publications.
Photograph by unknown author. “Trabajadores petroleros,” Fernando Irazábal Collection. Compiled by Archivo Fotografía Urbana.
On January 29, Venezuela experienced a legislative tectonic shift regarding the future of its hydrocarbon sector. The National Assembly approved a new petroleum law that effectively breaks with the post-1976 tradition of rigid state control, opening participation across the full value chain to private oil companies.
This is not the first experiment with private participation since nationalization, but it is the clearest attempt since the 1990s Apertura to normalize it as the governing framework of the sector. The legislation, approved with striking speed and opacity, has elicited mixed reactions, ranging from denunciations of lost sovereignty and surrender to foreign interests to support for a first step that still requires major fixes. Despite these divergences, one thing is clear: the return of private companies to Venezuela’s oil sector inevitably revives parallels with the concessionary system under which the industry was born and flourished between 1914 and 1976, a mirror of what Venezuela’s energy sector could become in the twenty-first century.
The iconic 1943 bill enacted by President Isaías Medina Angarita (1941–1945) regulated Venezuela’s privately run oil industry until the 1976 nationalization. It became the institutional template of the concessionary era: a rules-and-taxes state overseeing a privately operated industry. Together with related legislation, it established the famous 50/50 profit-sharing arrangement with the state, later tightened by reforms. Yet within the 1943 framework, the rentier state largely confined itself to setting the rules and collecting taxes and rents, while private companies assumed the capital risks. There was no government monopoly over day-to-day operations.
In spirit, the 2026 law reintroduces comparable conditions for private capital. Petroleum companies can now either hold operational control in joint ventures with the state or carry out activities independently through government contracts. The 1943 and 2026 frameworks also embrace flexible royalty schemes that prioritize business viability over rigid tax burdens. Differences, of course, abound. To mention a few, the 2026 version concentrates discretionary power in the executive branch regarding royalties, opens the possibility of international arbitration outside the country, simplifies the tax burden into a 15% integrated hydrocarbons tax, and diminishes the National Assembly’s authority over oil business.
The Venezolanization pioneered by firms like the Creole Petroleum Corporation, Royal Dutch Shell, Mene Grande Oil Company, and many others also became an exercise in social integration.
Divergences aside, both pieces of legislation share the same underlying imperative: attracting capital and technology. The 1976 and 2001 hydrocarbons laws, by contrast, were designed precisely to limit private initiative. But investment alone will not do all the work. Human capital is also desperately needed to lead a reborn hydrocarbon sector, and here the concessions model offers valuable lessons.
An underappreciated dimension of that era was human capital development. Over decades, foreign firms trained Venezuelans across the corporate hierarchy—in technical, managerial, and executive roles—so that by the mid-1970s expatriates were a small fraction of the workforce and Venezuelans increasingly ran the day-to-day business. This created a pipeline of local talent able to inherit operational responsibility and manage the 1976 transition to state control with unusual continuity.
This history is not nostalgia for a bygone era, but a lesson worth highlighting. Venezuela’s oil collapse in this century is inseparable from the degradation of corporate culture and human capital, deepened by the politicization of the industry. It triggered a professional brain drain and the hollowing out of operational efficiency. Multinationals like Chevron, and others that may follow, should explicitly lean on a “Venezolanization 2.0” that engages local talent still in the country and encourages the return of a diaspora of Venezuelan managers and engineers now abroad. Insulating the sector from partisan hiring and purging is essential if these cadres are to operate with full competence.
The Venezolanization pioneered by firms like the Creole Petroleum Corporation, Royal Dutch Shell, Mene Grande Oil Company, and many others also became an exercise in social integration. Many American expatriates, like Creole’s CEO Arthur T. Proudfit, embraced the social milieu of the country that welcomed them, often learning the language and speaking it fluently; his daughter even married a local businessman. In exchange, Venezuelans trained abroad and working for these firms absorbed US professional values and traditions. This cultural exchange helped forge durable bonds between both countries and contributed to the successful presence of foreign capital in Venezuela. And these corporations did not stop at their payrolls. They understood that long-term success in the hydrocarbon sector extended beyond employees to the surrounding communities of the oil fields, and beyond.
Creole, Shell, and Mene Grande undertook significant investments in the country. In the oilfields, they negotiated lucrative labor contracts with unions. They also financed hospitals, university campuses, and other infrastructure projects. These firms even joined the state in ventures like the Venezuelan Basic Economy Corporation to fund agro-industrial projects aimed at diversifying the economy, while supporting rural communities through initiatives such as the American International Association. They left an indelible imprint on everyday life, from how Venezuelans shopped through market chains like CADA, to culture through documentaries, corporate magazines, and even TV news programs like Observador Creole.
More importantly, they built alliances with domestic capitalists like Eugenio Mendoza to address social problems. Creole and Venezuelan business leaders, for instance, institutionalized private-sector social action through organizations like the Dividendo Voluntario para la Comunidad (DVC), founded in 1964 to mobilize corporate contributions toward community projects. This nonprofit continues to exist today, fulfilling the original goal of social action bequeathed by American and Venezuelan businessmen more than sixty years ago. Creole also created the Creole Development Corporation, a financial arm designed to provide seed capital for local entrepreneurial activity. This was hardly a frictionless era, but it shows how legitimacy was treated as a condition of stability.
Contributions to health, schools, and infrastructure would also ease the state’s burden and allow it to focus on critical nation-building emergencies.
This largesse reached widely, but it was not mere corporate charity. To avoid jeopardizing their operations and invite nationalist backlash, companies engaged with surrounding communities and invested in their future. That is a lesson new capital arriving in Venezuela should pursue. There is even generational memory favorable to the presence of these firms in oil communities.
Leveraging that legacy could open renewed opportunities for local professional growth while strengthening bonds between communities and multinationals. Contributions to health, schools, and infrastructure would also ease the state’s burden and allow it to focus on critical nation-building emergencies: democratizing institutions, reconstructing the economy, and addressing the public services and humanitarian needs the population faces.
The new hydrocarbons law pushes Venezuela’s oil industry in a new direction, and it functions as a first step in the right path. However, there is room for significant improvement.
Moreover, key questions remain unanswered. For instance, what will be the fate of PDVSA? Any plan that fails to address the resurrection of its operational capabilities undermines the development of an efficient sector. Only the re-democratization of the country can properly confront the deeper failings reflected in the current legislation. Many industry experts have already proposed an alternative framework that would solve several of the bill’s core problems by establishing clear rules, transparency mechanisms, and a dedicated government agency entrusted with regulating the hydrocarbon sector.
The spirit of the concessionary model walks once more around Venezuela’s refineries, port terminals, and petroleum wells. It is too soon to tell whether foreign capital will return with the same excitement it brought more than a century ago, or whether the scale of investments and engagement with surrounding communities will match that of its predecessors. The sector can either become a platform for institutional rebuilding and professionalization, or another discretionary channel for rents and corruption.
Democracy, check and balances, and clear rules can turn the 2026 hydrocarbons law (and its potential future modifications) into enduring principles for the remainder of the century. If so, the oil industry might unlock a new period of prosperity. Much remains to be done to materialize that future, but what is undeniable is that a new era begins.
New Delhi, India – When US President Donald Trump announced a trade deal with India on Monday this week, he declared that New Delhi would pivot away from Russian energy as part of the agreement.
Indian Prime Minister Narendra Modi, Trump said, had promised to stop buying Russian oil, and instead buy crude from the United States and from Venezuela, whose president, Nicolas Maduro, was abducted by US special forces in early January. Since then, the US has effectively taken control of Venezuela’s mammoth oil industry.
In return, Trump dialled down trade tariffs on Indian goods from an overall 50 percent to just 18 percent. Half of that 50 percent tariff was levied last year as punishment for India buying Russian oil, which the White House maintains is financing Russian President Vladimir Putin’s war in Ukraine.
But since Monday, India has not publicly confirmed that it has committed to either ceasing its purchase of Russian oil or embracing Venezuelan crude, analysts note. Dmitry Peskov, a Kremlin spokesperson, told reporters on Tuesday that Russia had received no indication of this from India, either.
And switching from Russian to Venezuelan oil will be far from straightforward. A cocktail of other factors – shocks to the energy market, costs, geography, and the characteristics of different kinds of oil – will complicate New Delhi’s decisions about its sourcing of oil, they say.
So, can India really dump Russian oil? And can Venezuelan crude replace it?
Trump has been pressuring India to stop buying Russian oil for months. After Russia invaded Ukraine in 2022, the US and European Union placed an oil price cap on Russian crude in a bid to limit Russia’s ability to finance the war.
As a result, other countries including India began buying large quantities of cheap Russian oil. India, which before the war sourced only 2.5 percent of its oil from Russia, became the second-largest consumer of Russian oil after China. It currently sources around 30 percent of its oil from Russia.
Last year, Trump doubled trade tariffs on Indian goods from 25 percent to 50 percent as punishment for this. Later in the year, Trump also imposed sanctions on Russia’s two biggest oil companies – and threatened secondary sanctions against countries and entities that trade with these firms.
Since the abduction of Maduro by US forces in early January, Trump has effectively taken over the Venezuelan oil sector, controlling sales cash flows.
Venezuela also has the largest proven oil reserves in the world, estimated at 303 billion barrels, more than five times larger than those of the US, the world’s largest oil producer.
But while getting India to buy Venezuelan oil makes sense from the US’s perspective, analysts say this could be operationally messy.
India currently imports nearly 1.1 million barrels per day (bpd) of Russian crude, according to analytics company Kpler. Under Trump’s mounting pressure, that is lower than the average 1.21 million bpd in December 2025 and more than 2 million bpd in mid-2025.
One barrel is equivalent to 159 litres (42 gallons) of crude oil. Once refined, a barrel typically produces about 73 litres (19 gallons) of petrol for a car. Oil is also refined to produce a wide variety of products, from jet fuel to household items including plastics and even lotions.
India has reduced the amount of oil it buys from Russia over the past year, but it has not stopped buying it altogether.
Under increasing pressure from Trump, last August, Indian officials called out the “hypocrisy” of the US and EU pressuring New Delhi to back off from Russian crude.
“In fact, India began importing from Russia because traditional supplies were diverted to Europe after the outbreak of the conflict,” Randhir Jaiswal, India’s Foreign Ministry spokesperson, said then. He added that India’s decision to import Russian oil was “meant to ensure predictable and affordable energy costs to the Indian consumer”.
Despite this, Indian refiners, currently the second-largest group of buyers of Russian oil after China, are reportedly winding up their purchases after clearing current scheduled orders.
Major refiners like Hindustan Petroleum Corporation Ltd (HPCL), Mangalore Refinery and Petrochemicals Ltd (MRPL), and HPCL-Mittal Energy Ltd (HMEL) halted purchasing from Russia following the US sanctions against Russian oil producers last year.
Other players like Indian Oil Corporation (IOC), Bharat Petroleum Corporation, and Reliance Industries will soon stop their purchases.
Even if India wanted to stop importing Russian oil altogether, analysts argue it would be extremely costly to do so.
In September last year, India’s oil and petroleum minister, Hardeep Singh Puri, told reporters that it would also sharply push up energy prices and fuel inflation. “The world will face serious consequences if the supplies are disrupted. The world can’t afford to keep Russia off the oil market,” Puri said.
Analysts tend to agree. “A complete cessation of Indian purchases of Russian oil would be a major disruption. An immediate halt would spike global prices and threaten India’s economic growth,” said George Voloshin, an independent energy analyst based in Paris.
Russian oil would likely be diverted more heavily towards China and into “shadow” fleets of tankers that deliver sanctioned oil secretly by flying false flags and switching off location equipment, Voloshin told Al Jazeera. “Mainstream tanker demand would shift toward the Atlantic Basin, most likely increasing global freight rates as a result,” he noted.
Sumit Pokharna, vice president at Kotak Securities, noted that Indian refineries have reported robust margins in the last two years, majorly benefitting from the discounted Russian crude.
“If they move to higher-costing, like the US or Venezuela, then raw material cost would increase, and that would squeeze their margins,” he told Al Jazeera. “If it goes beyond control, they may have to pass the excess onto consumers.”
It may not be able to. One of India’s two private refiners, Nayara Energy, is majority-Russian-owned and under heavy Western sanctions. The Russian energy firm Rosneft holds a 49.13 percent stake in the company, which operates a 400,000-barrel-per-day refinery in India’s Gujarat, PM Modi’s home state.
Nayara is the second-largest importer of Russian crude, buying about 471,000 barrels per day in January this year, accounting for nearly 40 percent of Russian supplies to India.
Its plant has relied solely on Russian crude since European Union sanctions were imposed on the company last July.
Nayara is not planning to load Russian oil in April as it shuts its refinery for more than a month for maintenance from April 10, according to Reuters.
Pokharna said the future of Nayara hangs in the balance, with the US unlikely to grant India an overt exemption for the Russia-backed company to import crude.
India has been a major consumer of Venezuelan oil in the past. At its peak, in 2019, India imported $7.2bn of oil, accounting for just under 7 percent of total imports. That stopped after the US slapped sanctions on Venezuelan oil, but some officials of the government-owned Oil and Natural Gas Corporation are still stationed in the Latin American country.
Now, major Indian refiners have said they are open to receiving Venezuelan oil again, but only if it is a viable option.
For one thing, Venezuela is roughly twice as far from India as Russia and five times further than the Middle East, meaning much higher freight costs.
Venezuelan oil is more expensive as well. “Russian Urals [a medium-heavy crude blend] has been trading at a wide-ranging discount of about $10-20 per barrel to Brent, while Venezuelan Merey currently offers a smaller discount of around $5-8 per barrel,” Voloshin told Al Jazeera.
“Importing from Venezuela and forgoing the Russian discount would be a costly affair for India,” said Pokharna. “From transportation cost to forgoing discounts, it could cost India $6-8 more per barrel – and that is a huge increase in the importing bill.”
Overall, a complete pivot away from Russia could raise India’s import bill by $9bn to $11bn – an amount roughly equal to India’s federal health budget – per year, according to Kpler.
“Venezuelan crude must be discounted by at least $10 to $12 per barrel to be competitive,” argued Voloshin. “This deeper discount is necessary to offset the much higher freight costs, increased insurance premiums for the longer Atlantic voyage, and the somewhat higher operational expenses required to process Venezuela’s extra-heavy high-sulfur crude.”
Without deeper discounts, the longer journey and complex handling make Venezuelan oil more expensive on a delivered basis, he added.
Another major issue is that many Indian refiners simply do not have the facilities to process very heavy Venezuelan oil.
Venezuelan crude is a heavy, sour oil, thick and viscous like molasses, with a high sulphur content requiring complex, specialised refineries to process it into fuel. Only a small number of Indian refineries are equipped to handle it.
“[Venezuelan oil’s heaviness] makes it an option only for complex refineries, leaving out older and smaller refineries,” Pokharna told Al Jazeera. “The shift is operationally difficult and would require blending with more expensive light crudes.”
Then there is the question of availability. Today, Venezuela produces barely a million barrels per day when pushed to its limit. Even if all production was sent to India, it would not match the total Russian oil import.
India’s Minister Puri has said that New Delhi is looking to diversify sourcing options from nearly 40 countries.
As India has reduced Russian imports, it has increased them from Middle Eastern nations and other countries in the Organization of the Petroleum Exporting Countries (OPEC). Now, while Russia accounts for nearly 27 percent share in India’s oil imports, OPEC nations, led by Iraq and Saudi Arabia, contribute 53 percent.
Reeling from Trump’s trade war, India has also increased purchases of US oil. American crude imports to India rose by 92 percent from April to November in 2025 to nearly 13 million tons, compared to 7.1 million in the same period in 2024.
However, India would be competing for these supplies with the European Union, which has pledged to spend $750bn by 2028 on US energy and nuclear products.
Meanwhile, for Venezuela to return to higher production, Caracas needs political stability, changes in foreign investment and oil laws, and to clear debts. That will take time, experts say.
Oil becomes more meaningful when you turn it into fuel.
A barrel contains 159 litres of crude oil, or 42 gallons.
To use this oil, it must be refined. The refining process produces various products, including petrol, diesel, jet fuel and numerous household items, such as cleaning products, plastics and even lotions.
Once refined, a barrel typically produces about 73 litres, or 19.35 gallons, of petrol to power cars and trucks.
A pick-up truck that can drive 24 miles on 1 gallon of petrol, or 100km on 10 litres, can travel about 730km, or 450 miles, from one barrel of oil.
Put another way, one barrel of crude oil can fuel that pick-up on a trip from New York City to Cleveland, Ohio.
Now let’s scale that up to US national consumption. According to the US Energy Information Administration, the US has about 285 million motor vehicles and consumes nearly 9 million barrels of petrol every day.
If all of Venezuela’s crude oil were refined into petrol, it could supply US vehicles for roughly 40 years at today’s consumption rate.
Passengers at Simon Bolivar International Airport in Maiquetia, La Guaira State, Venezuela. (AFP)
Caracas, January 30, 2026 (venezuelanalysis.com) – Venezuelan Acting President, Delcy Rodríguez, welcomed the “lifting of restrictions on the country’s commercial airspace”, which had been in place since last November, following talks with the US government.
Speaking at a rally on Thursday, Rodríguez said she received a phone call from US President Donald Trump and Secretary of State Marco Rubio to address the issue as part of a “working agenda” between the two countries that includes the resumption of diplomatic relations.
“Let all the airlines that need to come, come. Let all the investors that need to come, come”, Rodríguez said. She assumed office following the kidnapping of President Nicolás Maduro and his wife, Cilia Flores, amid the January 3 US attacks.
Earlier in the day, Trump ordered the reopening of “all Venezuelan airspace” to commercial flights, stating that US citizens would be able to travel safely and that Venezuelans wishing to return—either permanently or temporarily—would also be able to do so.
Trump ordered Secretary of Transportation Sean Duffy and other officials, including military commanders, to ensure the reopening was “immediate.”
Trump went on to describe the exchange with his Venezuelan counterpart as “highly positive,” emphasizing that “relations have been very solid and very good.” He further sought to reassure international travelers by stressing that they would be safe while in Venezuelan territory.
Following the announcements, the US Federal Aviation Administration confirmed that it had removed four Notices to Airmen (NOTAM) in the Caribbean region, including one related to Venezuela. “They were issued as a precautionary measure and are no longer necessary”, the agency argued.
Likewise on Thursday, American Airlines announced its intention to resume daily direct flights between the United States and Venezuela, becoming the first US airline to take such a step.
The company, which began operations in Venezuela in 1987, stated that the resumption of the route would be subject to approval by both US and Venezuelan authorities, as well as the corresponding security assessments.
American Airlines Chief Commercial Officer Nat Pieper said the company was eager to offer its customers the opportunity to reunite with family members and to generate new business and trade opportunities with the United States.
Direct flights between the two countries were suspended in 2019, the same year diplomatic relations between Washington and Caracas were severed after the US recognized Juan Guaidó as Venezuela’s interim president.
Last November, Trump declared that Venezuela’s airspace should be considered “completely closed.” A flurry of NOTAM warnings led international airlines to suspend their connections to the Caribbean country. Caracas withdrew licenses from several companies, including TAP, Iberia and Turkish Airlines.
On January 13, Panama’s Copa Airlines announced the resumption of flights to and from Caracas.
Secretary of State Marco Rubio said on Wednesday during a Senate hearing that he expects the United States to reestablish a diplomatic presence in Venezuela in the near future. “We have a team there evaluating it, and I think we’ll be able to open a diplomatic presence soon,” he said.
Rubio argued that such a presence would allow Washington to “have real-time information and interact not only with government officials but also with members of civil society and the opposition.”
Laura Dogu has so far been appointed to lead the diplomatic mission from the Venezuela Affairs Unit in Bogotá, Colombia. According to CNN, the CIA is looking to establish a “foothold” in the South American country that may preced the formal arrival of US diplomats.
For her part, Rodríguez has defended her administration’s diplomatic engagement with the United States, while also urging Venezuelan political sectors to resolve their differences and internal conflicts without “orders from Washington.”
Edited by Ricardo Vaz in Caracas.
WASHINGTON — President Donald Trump said Thursday he has informed acting Venezuelan President Delcy Rodríguez that he’s going to be opening up all commercial airspace over Venezuela and Americans will soon be able to visit.
Trump said he instructed U.S. Transportation Secretary Sean Duffy and U.S. military leaders to open up the airspace by the end of the day.
“American citizens will be very shortly able to go to Venezuela, and they’ll be safe there,” the Republican president said.
Venezuela’s government did not immediately comment on Trump’s announcement.
Earlier this week, Trump’s administration notified Congress that it was taking the first steps to possibly reopen the shuttered U.S. Embassy in Venezuela as it explores restoring relations with the South American country following the U.S. military raid that ousted then-President Nicolás Maduro.
In a notice to lawmakers dated Monday and obtained by The Associated Press on Tuesday, the State Department said it was sending in a regular and growing contingent of temporary staffers to conduct “select” diplomatic functions.
“We are writing to notify the committee of the Department of State’s intent to implement a phased approach to potentially resume Embassy Caracas operations,” the department said in separate but identical letters to 10 House and Senate committees.
Diplomatic relations between the two countries collapsed in 2019, and the U.S. State Department warned Americans shouldn’t travel to Venezuela, raising its travel advisory to the highest level.
The State Department on Thursday still listed a travel advisory for Venezuela at its highest level, “Do not travel,” warning that Americans face a high risk of wrongful detention, torture, kidnapping and more.
The State Department did not immediately respond to a message Thursday inquiring about whether it was changing its warning.
In November, as Trump was ramping up pressure on Maduro, he declared that the airspace “above and surrounding” Venezuela should be considered as “closed in its entirety.”
The U.S. Federal Aviation Administration, which has jurisdiction generally over the U.S. and its territories, then told pilots to be cautious flying around the country because of heightened military activity.
After that FAA warning, international airlines began canceling flights to Venezuela because of heightened military activity.
American Airlines, which was the last U.S. airline flying to Venezuela when it suspended flights there in March 2019, announced Thursday that it intends to reinstate nonstop service there from the U.S. in the coming months.
“We have a more than 30-year history connecting Venezolanos to the U.S., and we are ready to renew that incredible relationship,” Nat Pieper, American’s chief commercial officer, said in a statement. “By restarting service to Venezuela, American will offer customers the opportunity to reunite with families and create new business and commerce with the United States.”
American said it would share additional details about the return to service in the coming months as it works with federal authorities on security assessments and necessary permissions.
Price writes for the Associated Press. AP reporters Matthew Lee in Washington and Regina Garcia Cano in Caracas, Venezuela, contributed to this report.