The weight of years, of dashed hopes, finally lifted in January 2026. For a nation suffocated by the Maduro regime, the news of his capture resonated like a long-awaited liberation. The 2024 election, a sham orchestrated to maintain power, had been exposed – documents revealing a landslide victory for the opposition, with González claiming roughly 67 percent of the vote against Maduro’s meager 30 percent.
Immediately, a fractured response emerged. While thousands of fervent Chavistas rallied in Caracas, demanding Maduro’s release and clinging to the PSUV, their numbers were quickly dwarfed by the burgeoning celebrations erupting across Venezuela and within its vast diaspora. A recent poll revealed the true sentiment: a staggering 90 percent of Venezuelans expressed gratitude or approval for Maduro’s removal.
These pro-Maduro demonstrations, largely organized by key party figures like Diosdado Cabello and Nahum Fernández, were composed primarily of state employees and unwavering loyalists. Peak gatherings, such as the February 3rd march, drew an estimated 10,000 to 30,000 participants – a stark contrast to the widespread relief felt by the majority of the population.
Protest leaders publicly pledged continued support for Acting President Delcy Rodríguez, framing their actions as a defense of stability and decrying Maduro’s detention as unjust. Fernández vowed to remain in the streets, promising unwavering backing “in any scenario,” but their voices felt increasingly isolated.
The opposition, meanwhile, focused on accountability. Demands for investigations into past abuses and reparations for victims of state violence echoed through the streets, coinciding with the symbolic closure of El Helicoide, a notorious detention center long condemned for its brutal practices.
Yet, even amidst the relief, a cautious undercurrent persisted. Many Venezuelans hesitated to openly celebrate, haunted by the threat of armed pro-government collectives and uncertainty surrounding the unfolding situation. Fear, a constant companion under Maduro, hadn’t vanished overnight.
The military’s stance became the crucial factor in determining the longevity of pro-government protests. Defense Minister Vladimir Padrino López expressed support for Rodríguez while criticizing the U.S. operation as “disproportionate,” but crucially stopped short of advocating for military intervention – a clear sign of a shifting power dynamic.
The international stage erupted in response. Venezuela and Colombia brought the matter before the UN Security Council, condemning the “abduction” of their president and accusing the United States of violating the UN Charter. Maduro’s legal team prepared to file complaints with the International Criminal Court, alleging a “crime of aggression.”
Accusations of ulterior motives surfaced, with critics alleging the U.S. intervention was driven by a desire to seize Venezuela’s vast oil reserves. The administration vehemently denied these claims, framing the operation as a long-term effort to stabilize and revitalize the nation’s crippled economy.
Central to this plan was a “clean slate” energy policy, backed by a multi-billion-dollar investment to modernize Venezuela’s decaying oil infrastructure. American service firms were deployed to repair refineries and supply the necessary diluents to process the country’s heavy crude.
The financial framework revolved around a custodial revenue-sharing model, designed to bypass corruption and provide immediate liquidity to the Venezuelan state. In the immediate aftermath of Maduro’s removal, the U.S. unlocked approximately $3 billion in oil-related funds.
This was followed by the issuance of U.S. Treasury General License 46, authorizing American companies to resume transactions directing payments into the Venezuelan Central Bank. Oversight remained through Foreign Government Deposit Funds, preventing funds from reaching Maduro loyalists.
The influx of dollars began to ease the hyperinflation that had defined the Maduro era, subtly shifting public sentiment from despair to cautious optimism. For most Venezuelans, ideology took a backseat to the basic necessities of life – reliable electricity and affordable food.
The narrative of “imperialist theft” found limited traction, largely confined to PSUV leadership and armed collectivos. For these groups, U.S. control over oil revenue represented a loss of personal leverage, not a loss of national wealth.
Even as the interim government under Acting President Rodríguez participated in the revenue-sharing arrangement, it maintained a delicate diplomatic balance. Venezuela’s UN mission officially labeled U.S. management of oil revenues as “coercive,” while simultaneously utilizing the funds to address the nation’s urgent needs.
This carefully calibrated stance, analysts believe, preserves the option to pursue future legal claims while allowing Venezuela to experience its first meaningful economic recovery in over a decade – a fragile hope blossoming from the ruins of a long and brutal regime.
