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Venezuela’s tragic collapse from petrostate to failed state has a name: Nicolás Maduro. His first stolen “reelection” in 2018, dismissed globally as neither free nor fair, sealed the fate of a nation now hollowed out and starving. It’s time for him to go. Whether by negotiated exit or the combined weight of domestic defiance and American pressure, his departure is both morally justified and strategically essential.
Donald Trump’s second administration has revived its first-term push for regime change, adding clandestine tools to the diplomatic arsenal. The CIA is now authorized to conduct publicly unspecified covert operations in Venezuela, increasing pressure on Maduro. But anything resembling gunboat diplomacy or the CIA intrusions of the Allende era could be catastrophic—rekindling Latin America’s darkest memories of American heavy-handedness and erasing what moral authority the United States still claims.
This caution becomes even clearer relief given President Trump’s recent remarks: The U.S. naval buildup off Venezuela, primarily tasked with curbing drug trafficking, is “looking at land now, because we’ve got the sea very well under control.” Such statements underscore the temptation toward direct military intervention or violent CIA dark ops. But the risk of overstepping—with boots on the ground or overt military ground offensives—could provoke backlash, undermine the moral case, and strengthen Maduro’s grip by rallying nationalist sentiment. The Trump administration must balance pressure with prudence, using intelligence, sanctions, diplomacy, and regional allies to increase the cost of repression without igniting a kinetic catastrophe.
Washington’s earlier attempts defined the battle lines. In 2019, it recognized Juan Guaidó as interim president, marshaled more than 50 nations behind a constitutional transition, and suffocated state oil producer PDVSA, the regime’s cash conduit. The United States also indicted Maduro on narco-trafficking charges, a symbolic but significant marker that criminality would carry a cost. Those efforts didn’t topple Maduro, but they tightened the vise—squeezing oil revenues, limiting global banking access, and isolating Caracas.
Inside Venezuela, the real struggle continued. It’s been waged not by diplomats or spooks, but by millions desperate for dignity. Years of mass protest, the bravery of opposition leaders, and an exiled diaspora still sustaining families at home are the nation’s lifelines. I’ve commented on these developments for the Washington Monthly over the years, as an observer and co-author with opposition leader-in-exile Leopoldo López. Few channel the opposition’s strength and spirit more sharply than this year’s Nobel Peace Prize winner, María Corina Machado, who remains in undisclosed locations inside Venezuela. Her clarity and courage have turned despair into direction. Machado says the Nobel is “an impetus to conclude our task: to conquer Freedom.”
Machado and a popular movement have inspired a democratic awakening that may finally topple the Maduro regime. A bonus: A successful democratic restoration would stem the tide of Venezuelan refugees to the U.S. The Venezuelan opposition’s demands—for monitored elections, safe pathways out for insiders, and guarantees against vengeance—offer the only peaceful path to restore constitutional order.
Yet every autocrat needs their patrons, and for years, Vladimir Putin performed that role—fueling Maduro’s survival with arms, oil deals, and political cover in international forums. Russia’s state oil giant Rosneft helped Caracas evade sanctions, while Kremlin advisors whispered strategies for outlasting unrest. Fast forward to 2025: Putin’s mired in Ukraine, hemorrhaging resources and legitimacy. Russia can no longer bankroll its strongman protégés abroad. Ask Bashar al-Assad. The Kremlin’s reach now stops at its own battlefield lines. Moscow once promised to prop up its friends; today, it can barely sustain itself. For Maduro, that means the cavalry will never come.
Iran long acted as another lifeline for Maduro—providing financing, technology, and networks to evade sanctions, further binding Caracas to Tehran’s geopolitical ambitions. But Tehran’s regional overreach, combined with crippling sanctions and internal pressures, has thankfully sapped its ability to project power abroad. Venezuelan regime change, while unwelcome to Tehran, is no longer preventable by its illegitimate, diminished, and aging leadership. A democratic transition in Caracas would deal Tehran another setback—losing an ideological partner and foothold in the Americas, further isolating the regime against mounting global pressure.
American power can and should amplify Venezuela’s democratic push, not replace it. Supporting continental diplomacy, defending human rights, and imposing targeted sanctions can raise the cost of repression while preserving moral legitimacy. This is the balance Washington must strike: pressure without pretense, influence without too much overt interference. Questionable air strikes on Venezuelan pleasure boats allegedly ferrying drugs to the U.S. haven’t strengthened Trump’s hand.
Beyond Caracas, others are watching. Daniel Ortega’s Nicaragua, where democracy is dismantled by design, and Cuba, surviving on repression and nostalgia, both feel the tremors. Any transfer of power in Venezuela would broadcast a warning across the hemisphere—autocracy carries an expiration date, and outside enablers can’t always save their proxies.
The global stakes are no less tangible. China’s multi-billion-dollar love affair with Chávez and Maduro—funded by oil-for-loans deals—has left Beijing deeply exposed. A post-Maduro government determined to audit, renegotiate, or even default on opaque Chinese obligations would puncture that dependency. Venezuela, freed from kleptocracy, could remind China that foreign investments anchored in corruption are ultimately bad business.
The most powerful instrument for change remains Venezuelan. Their courage—magnified but not manipulated by U.S. intelligence, diplomacy, and media strategy—holds the key. Anything smacking of direct or violent American intervention risks staining this moment of liberation with an old imperial dye.
Washington’s role must be catalytic, not commanding. The CIA’s job, this time, is to quietly tip the scales toward freedom, not pull them down.
The last thing Venezuela needs is to be rescued by ghosts of the past.

