Caracas awoke on Sunday to a city suspended between fear and disbelief, just 24 hours after the United States launched its first-ever large-scale military attack on South American soil and detained Venezuela’s long-time president, Nicolás Maduro. The overnight assault, carried out while most residents slept, has sent shockwaves through the capital and across the region, plunging the oil-rich but crisis-ridden nation into a new and uncertain chapter.
From the early morning hours, long queues formed outside supermarkets and pharmacies as anxious citizens scrambled to stockpile essentials. The mood on the streets was tense and conflicted—marked by anger, confusion, quiet relief and deep unease about what may come next.
“Uncertainty—that’s what we feel,” said Griselda Guzmán, a 68-year-old pensioner, her eyes filling with tears as she stood with her husband outside a grocery store in central Caracas. Like many others, the couple was buying extra food in anticipation of shortages or renewed unrest. “We don’t know if this is over or if something worse is coming.”
Across the city, similar scenes played out. Outside another supermarket, Sauriany, a 23-year-old administrative worker at Venezuela’s state-owned electricity company, waited in a queue of nearly 100 people alongside her partner, Leandro, and even a small group of nuns. The shelves inside, she said, were already thinning.
“Anger,” Sauriany said bluntly when asked how she felt. Leandro, 24, still appeared stunned by the events of the previous night. “Who could have imagined this?” he asked. “At the very start of the year, they bomb our country while everyone is asleep.”
Leandro said he had briefly wondered whether the intervention might finally bring change to a country battered by economic collapse, repression and mass emigration. But he quickly dismissed the idea. “If I really believed this would improve Venezuela, I might welcome it,” he said as shoppers were allowed into the overcrowded store in small groups. “But I don’t. If they wanted peace, this is not how you achieve it.”
The US strike began shortly after 2am on Saturday, according to residents, with explosions rocking parts of the capital and military aircraft heard circling overhead. Entire neighbourhoods were plunged into darkness as power grids failed.
“It was a gigantic explosion,” said Gabriel Vásquez, a 29-year-old video-maker from central Caracas. “I woke up thinking my house could be bombed at any moment.” By Sunday afternoon, his neighbourhood still had no electricity, water or phone service. “We have nothing—no water, no power, no signal. You feel completely cut off.”
Julio Pimentel, a 33-year-old designer, reported similar outages but said he was struck by how many people were still out in public despite the fear. “Given the situation, I expected empty streets,” he said. “Instead, supermarkets and pharmacies are extremely crowded. People are trying to prepare.”
Despite Maduro’s dramatic arrest and removal, there was little sign of public celebration in the capital. Few Venezuelans took to the streets to mark the downfall of a leader who has dominated political life for more than a decade. Many attributed the subdued response to fear of reprisals from security forces loyal to the ruling system, as well as a widespread belief that Maduro’s removal may not fundamentally change the country’s trajectory.
On Sunday, Defence Minister and armed forces chief Vladimir Padrino López announced that military leaders had recognised Vice President Delcy Rodríguez as Venezuela’s acting president following what he called the “cowardly kidnapping” of Maduro and his wife, Cilia Flores.
US President Donald Trump signalled his readiness to engage with Rodríguez, suggesting continuity rather than a clean break with the existing power structure. “She’s essentially willing to do what we think is necessary to make Venezuela great again,” Trump said following Saturday’s assault.
For many Venezuelans, that message reinforced the sense that Maduro’s arrest may have changed faces, but not the system.
“They’ve taken Maduro, but the Bolivarian revolution isn’t over,” said Antonio Guzmán, 71, Griselda’s husband. Like his wife, he asked that his real name not be used. “We’re still in the same situation. They’ve just removed a pawn from the chessboard.”
Yet beneath the caution and fear, there was also quiet satisfaction among those who blame Maduro for years of economic ruin, authoritarian rule and widespread suffering. Since taking power in 2013, he has overseen hyperinflation, the collapse of public services and the exodus of millions of Venezuelans.
“We all get what we deserve,” Griselda Guzmán said, her voice hardening as she recalled seeing images of Maduro in US custody. “He never put his hand on his heart to see what his people were going through—how they were starving.” Seeing him handcuffed, she added, was deeply symbolic. “At that moment, I saw him for what he was.”
Many Venezuelans believe Maduro’s downfall was ultimately rooted in his refusal to relinquish power after the disputed 2024 presidential election. Independently verified voting data indicated he had lost to an opposition movement led by Nobel laureate María Corina Machado, yet he declared victory and remained in office.
“He had the opportunity of a lifetime,” Guzmán said. “He knew he hadn’t won. He could have stepped aside and avoided all this.”
Instead, Maduro now faces decades in a US prison, having been flown to New York to stand trial on charges Washington has long levelled against him. For some, the lack of public celebration reflects a belief that Saturday’s events are only the opening act in a much longer and potentially more dangerous saga.
“This only started yesterday,” Antonio Guzmán said grimly. “Nothing has really happened yet.”
Others were openly furious at what they see as a violation of Venezuela’s sovereignty and international law. Legal experts and regional leaders have warned that the US action sets a dangerous precedent.
“Yes, we have problems,” said Sauriany. “But they are Venezuelan problems. Venezuelans should solve them.” She rejected Trump’s apparent willingness to shape the country’s future by force. “They are not the owners of Venezuela. He can’t just come and say he will rule us because he removed Maduro.”
Sauriany argued that Rodríguez should be allowed to complete the remainder of Maduro’s six-year term—an idea fiercely opposed by Venezuela’s fragmented opposition but one that appears increasingly plausible given Washington’s stance.
The shockwaves of the US assault were felt well beyond Caracas. Governments in Spain, Brazil, Chile, Colombia, Mexico and Uruguay issued a joint warning that the attack set “an extremely dangerous precedent for peace and regional security.”
In neighbouring Colombia, President Gustavo Petro ordered 30,000 troops to the border with Venezuela amid fears of spillover violence or mass displacement. Armoured personnel carriers were deployed around the key crossing at Cúcuta, underscoring regional anxiety.
Meanwhile, the National Liberation Army (ELN), a Colombian-Venezuelan rebel group, condemned what it described as Trump’s “imperial” attack and vowed to confront what it called an assault on Venezuelan sovereignty.
Despite the fears, there were no immediate signs on Sunday of widespread violence, armed clashes or a split within Venezuela’s military—developments many had warned could follow such a dramatic intervention. For now, the country appears to be holding its breath.
Standing in line for food, Antonio Guzmán summed up the prevailing mood in the capital. “All we can do now is wait,” he said, clutching his shopping bags. “We still don’t really know what is going on—or what will happen next.”
