In a dramatic escalation of U.S. involvement in Latin America, President Donald Trump has declared that the United States will now be “running” Venezuela after American forces bombed Caracas on January 3, removed President Nicolás Maduro and his wife from the country, and flew them to New York to face federal charges. Trump framed the intervention as both an economic and moral victory. “Large U.S. oil companies are going into Venezuela to start making money,” he said, adding that with Maduro gone, Venezuelans are “free” and the country is already becoming “rich and safe.”
Yet analysts warn that Venezuela’s entrenched institutional structures have not disappeared with Maduro’s removal. Autocratic regimes do not rely solely on their figurehead; they draw power from the security apparatus, bureaucracies, and networks of loyalists that operate across government and society. While these structures have been shaken, they have not been dismantled.
Within hours of Maduro’s removal, Vice President Delcy Rodríguez—one of his most loyal allies—assumed the presidency. Meanwhile, the two most powerful figures in Venezuela’s security establishment—Interior Minister Diosdado Cabello and Defence Minister Vladimir Padrino López—remain firmly in control of the military and police, ensuring that the regime’s coercive capabilities are intact. In effect, what Trump has portrayed as regime change is, in practice, a U.S.-backed continuation of Maduro-era governance.
For nearly 30 years, Venezuela’s political landscape has been dominated by two figures: Hugo Chávez (1999–2013) and Nicolás Maduro (2013–2026). Chávez’s presidency was characterized by a populist, left-wing platform and the launch of sweeping social programs inspired by the ideals of Simón Bolívar, the independence hero of much of Latin America. These reforms formed the ideological foundation of chavismo, which combined socialist governance with strong anti-U.S. rhetoric.
Maduro, who succeeded Chávez after his death, gradually shifted this ideology toward an authoritarian model that scholars have called madurismo. While Chávez often confronted the United States on ideological grounds, Maduro’s regime adopted a pragmatic approach. Economic sanctions imposed by the U.S. crippled Venezuela’s economy, yet companies like Chevron continued operations, highlighting the regime’s willingness to accommodate foreign business interests under carefully managed terms.
Maduro’s legitimacy suffered further after the contested 2024 presidential election. Official results declared him the winner, but independent monitors and opposition parties pointed to widespread irregularities. International isolation and internal dissent made Maduro an appealing target for Trump’s campaign to assert U.S. influence.
Yet madurismo was not merely an ideology; it was a governing system built on militarized security, patronage networks, and control over judicial and electoral institutions. As Venezuela’s oil revenues declined and Maduro’s popular support narrowed, the regime focused less on mass mobilization and more on institutional survival. Civilian militias and loyalist networks were incorporated into this security apparatus, ensuring resilience even as political legitimacy eroded. These structures did not vanish when Maduro was removed—they were inherited by Rodríguez.
Rodríguez’s ascendancy marks what some analysts describe as a third iteration of chavismo. According to sociologist Rafael Uzcátegui, she is willing to abandon the movement’s defining anti-U.S. rhetoric to maintain power, now with Washington’s blessing. Within hours of Maduro’s departure, a pre-signed decree placed the country under a state of emergency. The order authorized military and police forces, including the 200,000-strong Bolivarian Militia, to “search and capture” anyone accused of supporting the U.S. intervention, effectively consolidating domestic coercive power under her leadership.
On January 5, Rodríguez was sworn in as president following a Supreme Court ruling declaring Maduro to be in “forced absence.” Venezuelan law, however, requires elections within 30 days of a president’s “absolute absence.” Instead, Rodríguez’s position was framed as a 90-day “temporary absence,” extendable by the National Assembly for another 90 days. The Assembly is controlled by her brother, Jorge Rodríguez, giving her near-total influence over the legislative branch. By these terms, continuity rather than a democratic transition has been secured.
Rodríguez has moved quickly to consolidate power. In her first cabinet meeting, she appeared alongside Cabello and Padrino, signaling continuity with the military and interior security establishments. Strategic appointments followed: General Gustavo González López assumed command of the presidential guard, ensuring her personal security, while Calixto Ortega Sánchez was named vice president for the economy, a role critical to negotiating the distribution of Venezuela’s oil wealth with U.S. companies.
Trump’s administration appears content with this arrangement. Officials have dismissed opposition leader María Corina Machado as lacking the “respect” and “support” to govern, while Washington focuses on securing access to Venezuelan oil reserves. Trump has promised that “billions” of barrels will be made available to U.S. firms and exclusive trade agreements are reportedly in the works. A U.S. embassy is expected to reopen in Caracas, functioning effectively as the office of a proconsul overseeing American interests.
Critics argue that this is not a democratic transition. Instead, it is the continuation of chavismo in a new form: stripped of anti-imperialist rhetoric, devoid of social promises, and implemented without meaningful participation from the Venezuelan populace. Political prisoners have been released in gestures perceived as goodwill, but the core U.S. interest—oil—remains central to the strategy.
International observers have expressed concern over the implications of Rodríguez’s consolidation of power. “What is happening in Venezuela is not a liberation,” said Mariana Pardo, a Venezuelan political analyst. “It is the transformation of an authoritarian system under foreign guidance. The structures that made Maduro’s government resilient—military control, patronage networks, and coercive institutions—are now being used to secure U.S. objectives.”
The situation also raises questions about the future of regional stability. Other Latin American countries, many of which have traditionally viewed U.S. interventions with suspicion, may see Rodríguez’s government as a U.S. proxy. The deployment of U.S. forces in Caracas and the direct involvement of Washington in domestic governance set a new precedent in the region, potentially encouraging similar interventions elsewhere.
The Venezuelan population faces an uncertain future. While Trump promises prosperity, the immediate focus of the new administration is institutional consolidation and resource extraction rather than democratic development or social welfare. Analysts warn that without broad-based legitimacy or genuine electoral processes, Rodríguez’s government may struggle to maintain stability over the medium term, particularly if U.S. attention or support wanes.
For now, Rodríguez appears secure. The combination of Washington’s backing, control over military and security forces, and strategic appointments has allowed her to cement power quickly. The Bolivarian Militia, previously a symbol of Chávez-era populism, now functions under strict military oversight, reinforcing the regime’s capacity to suppress dissent.
Observers note that this model—authoritarian control under the guidance of an external power—is historically unprecedented in modern Latin America. It signals a departure from traditional forms of intervention, relying less on overt occupation and more on institutional manipulation and local compliance.
Ultimately, Venezuela’s political trajectory remains deeply uncertain. The removal of Maduro does not signal the end of authoritarian governance; rather, it marks the transformation of an entrenched system under a new leadership aligned with foreign interests. Rodríguez’s government represents both continuity and mutation: continuity in terms of institutional structures, mutation in its ideological and political orientation.
As U.S. firms prepare to exploit Venezuela’s oil wealth and Washington consolidates influence over Caracas, the country faces a paradoxical reality. On the surface, the rhetoric of liberation and prosperity dominates international discourse. On the ground, entrenched coercive institutions, controlled elections, and elite negotiations determine the fate of governance. For Venezuelans, the promise of freedom and wealth remains largely aspirational, while power continues to be concentrated in the hands of a few, now under the watchful eyes of a foreign power.
In the coming months, the world will be watching to see whether Rodríguez can transform her temporary authority into lasting governance—or whether Venezuela will descend into further instability under the pressures of domestic dissent and foreign interests. One thing is certain: the era of Maduro has ended, but the era of external oversight and internal authoritarian continuity has just begun.
