I never imagined I’d witness it – the man who systematically dismantled my family’s life, led away in handcuffs. The news of Nicolás Maduro’s capture, along with his wife, felt surreal. When my mother called, her voice choked with emotion, she simply said, “Trump is doing it!” It was the happiest I’d heard her in years.
Growing up in Venezuela, I watched my parents’ dreams crumble. Their small cosmetics business, a source of pride and livelihood, was suffocated by the government’s socialist price controls. They sacrificed everything, often going without, so I could have a chance at a future. Those sacrifices etched themselves into my soul.
Driven by those experiences, I became an activist, speaking out against Maduro’s regime on campus. I championed capitalism and liberty, refusing to remain silent. It wasn’t long before I was expelled, branded a terrorist, and threatened with imprisonment. My family feared for my safety.
My cousin was already languishing in a Venezuelan jail for his activism. We made the agonizing decision to flee, seeking political asylum in America. It was a lifeline, a chance to breathe free. America offered me the opportunity to build a life beyond the reach of tyranny.
Now, witnessing Maduro’s arrest felt like a measure of justice I’d long abandoned hope of seeing. My family and friends still in Venezuela are filled with a cautious joy. They are profoundly grateful for the actions taken, a glimmer of hope in years of darkness.
But even celebration must be muted. Maduro’s regime, though weakened, still holds power. Open displays of joy risk severe punishment. This isn’t a triumphant ending, but a fragile new beginning, fraught with uncertainty.
The question now is what comes next. Will Venezuela descend into chaos, mirroring the fates of Iraq or Afghanistan? The answer, thankfully, isn’t predetermined. Venezuela isn’t fractured by tribalism; it’s a Western nation with a democratic past, a shared language, and a deeply rooted Christian faith.
The challenge lies in the military, which has become a criminal enterprise beholden to cartels. President Trump isn’t declaring victory prematurely. Instead, he’s initiating a carefully considered process of stabilization, recovery, and transition, as outlined by Secretary of State Marco Rubio.
Can Venezuelans trust Delcy Rodríguez, Maduro’s vice president? Absolutely not. She was instrumental in building the machinery of repression. Yet, she recognizes something Maduro didn’t: President Trump is resolute. Maduro challenged that resolve and now faces the consequences in a New York jail.
The regime is undeniably weaker. If Rodríguez is cooperating, as suggested, it could create fissures within its ranks. Figures like Diosdado Cabello and Vladimir Padrino López thrive on violence, not compromise. This internal tension is a critical factor.
This moment is incredibly delicate. Multiple outcomes are possible – internal conflict, renewed oppression, cooperation, or a negotiated transition. But one truth remains: the world is a safer place with Nicolás Maduro behind bars.
Maduro wasn’t a legitimate president; his elections were a sham. He was a fugitive, indicted in the United States in 2020 on charges of narcoterrorism. His alliances with hostile nations like China, Russia, Cuba, and Iran have destabilized the region and threatened global security.
Ironically, protesters outside the detention center are demanding Maduro’s release, praising a regime that would have brutally suppressed their very demonstration in Venezuela. Others absurdly portray him as a conservative Christian leader, a blatant distortion of reality.
The truth is Maduro actively persecuted Catholics who dared to criticize his rule, even labeling priests “devils in cassocks” and launching investigations against them. Yet, Venezuela’s Catholic leaders remained steadfast, condemning his Marxist ideology as a threat to freedom and human rights.
Freedom is a precious exception, not the rule. America’s commitment to liberty is unique. Venezuela’s descent into dictatorship wasn’t sudden; it was a gradual erosion of freedoms, cloaked in promises of fairness and compassion, and enforced through the suppression of dissent.
I fled socialism to survive. I implore Americans to learn from my experience, to recognize the insidious nature of this ideology. Because I understand how easily freedom can be lost – and how extraordinarily rare it is to reclaim it.
