The removal of Nicolás Maduro sent shockwaves through Washington, sparking an immediate debate over who should lead Venezuela next. Many anticipated a swift endorsement of María Corina Machado, the opposition leader with a powerful voice on the international stage. Instead, a surprising turn unfolded – the Trump administration began engaging with Delcy Rodríguez, a figure deeply entrenched in Maduro’s inner circle.
This decision wasn’t about ideology; it was about control. Officials feared a chaotic power vacuum and prioritized short-term stability, even if it meant sidelining the democratic aspirations championed by Machado. The move elevated Rodríguez, Maduro’s vice president, to the forefront, a central figure in the very regime the U.S. had just dismantled.
Intelligence assessments, classified and delivered directly to President Trump, painted a stark picture. The focus wasn’t on *how* Maduro fell, but on *who* could hold things together immediately afterward. The analysis concluded Machado, despite her international acclaim, lacked the crucial support within Venezuela’s powerful security forces.
Rodríguez, however, possessed something Machado didn’t: existing influence over the military and a network of internal connections. Trump reportedly believed she understood the stakes, even suggesting she offered complete cooperation – “We’ll do whatever you need,” she allegedly told him. But a chilling warning followed: defiance would come at a “very big price,” potentially exceeding even Maduro’s fate.
Following Maduro’s removal, Rodríguez was swiftly sworn in as interim president, a move sanctioned by the Venezuelan Supreme Court under the constitution’s provisions for presidential absences. While the law dictates elections within 30 days in such circumstances, authorities framed Maduro’s removal as temporary, allowing Rodríguez to consolidate power and delay a definitive transition.
The assessment acknowledged Machado’s widespread support among Western governments and democracy advocates, but bluntly stated it hadn’t translated into influence over the institutions that truly mattered within Venezuela. Trump, haunted by past failures to engineer regime change, expressed skepticism about Machado’s ability to govern, questioning her support “within or the respect within the country.”
Experts warned of the dangers of appearing to install a new leader, echoing a long history of U.S. intervention in Latin America. Such a move, they argued, could ignite civil unrest and fuel deep-seated suspicions about Washington’s motives. The goal, as one former FBI operative explained, was to allow Venezuelans to choose their own future.
Yet, even as the administration navigated this delicate path, doubts lingered. Rodríguez, while possessing immediate control, was seen as equally illegitimate and potentially even less popular than Maduro. Her authority rested on internal maneuvering, not genuine public support, raising questions about the long-term viability of her leadership.
In the wake of the power shift, reports emerged of armed gangs patrolling the streets, and a crackdown on the press, with at least 14 journalists detained. The coming weeks promised instability, a precarious period as Venezuela grappled with an uncertain future, caught between a fallen dictator and a leader whose legitimacy remained deeply contested.
