Tag: venezuelans

US appeals court says Secretary Noem’s decision to end protections for Venezuelans in US was illegal

[ad_1]

A federal appeals court ruled late Wednesday that the Trump administration acted illegally when it ended legal protections that gave hundreds of thousands of people from Venezuela permission to live and work in the United States.A three-judge panel of the 9th U.S. Circuit Court of Appeals upheld a lower court ruling that found Homeland Security Secretary Kristi Noem exceeded her authority when she ended temporary protected status for Venezuelans.The decision, however, will not have any immediate practical effect after the U.S. Supreme Court in October allowed Noem’s decision to take effect pending a final decision by the justices.An email late Wednesday night to the Department of Homeland Security was not immediately returned.The 9th Circuit panel also upheld the lower court’s finding that Noem exceeded her authority when she decided to end TPS early for hundreds of thousands of people from Haiti.A federal judge in Washington is expected to rule any day now on a request to pause the termination of TPS for Haiti while a separate lawsuit challenging it proceeds. The country’s TPS designation is scheduled to end on Feb. 3.Ninth Circuit Judges Kim Wardlaw, Salvador Mendoza, Jr. and Anthony Johnstone said in Wednesday’s ruling that the TPS legislation passed by Congress did not give the secretary the power to vacate an existing TPS designation. All three judges were nominated by Democratic presidents.“The statute contains numerous procedural safeguards that ensure individuals with TPS enjoy predictability and stability during periods of extraordinary and temporary conditions in their home country,” Judge Kim Wardlaw, who was nominated by President Bill Clinton, wrote for the panel.Wardlaw said Noem’s “unlawful actions have had real and significant consequences” for Venezuelans and Haitians in the United States who rely on TPS.“The record is replete with examples of hard-working, contributing members of society — who are mothers, fathers, wives, husbands, and partners of U.S. citizens, pay taxes, and have no criminal records — who have been deported or detained after losing their TPS,” she wrote.Temporary Protected Status, or TPS, authorized by Congress as part of the Immigration Act of 1990, allows the Homeland Security secretary to grant legal immigration status to people fleeing countries experiencing civil strife, environmental disaster or other “extraordinary and temporary conditions” that prevent a safe return to that home country.Designations are granted for terms of six, 12 or 18 months, and extensions can be granted so long as conditions remain dire. The status prevents holders from being deported and allows them to work, but it does not give them a path to citizenship.In ending the protections, Noem said that conditions in both Haiti and Venezuela had improved and that it was not in the national interest to allow immigrants from the two countries to stay on for what is a temporary program.Millions of Venezuelans have fled political unrest, mass unemployment and hunger. The country is mired in a prolonged crisis brought on by years of hyperinflation, political corruption, economic mismanagement and an ineffectual government.Haiti was first designated for TPS in 2010 after a catastrophic magnitude 7.0 earthquake killed and wounded hundreds of thousands of people, and left more than 1 million homeless. Haitians face widespread hunger and gang violence.Mendoza wrote separately that there was “ample evidence of racial and national origin animus” that reinforced the lower court’s conclusion that Noem’s decisions were “preordained and her reasoning pretextual.”“It is clear that the Secretary’s vacatur actions were not actually grounded in substantive policy considerations or genuine differences with respect to the prior administration’s TPS procedures, but were instead rooted in a stereotype-based diagnosis of immigrants from Venezuela and Haiti as dangerous criminals or mentally unwell,” he wrote.Attorneys for the government have argued the secretary has clear and broad authority to make determinations related to the TPS program and those decisions are not subject to judicial review. They have also denied that her actions were motived by racial animus.

A federal appeals court ruled late Wednesday that the Trump administration acted illegally when it ended legal protections that gave hundreds of thousands of people from Venezuela permission to live and work in the United States.

A three-judge panel of the 9th U.S. Circuit Court of Appeals upheld a lower court ruling that found Homeland Security Secretary Kristi Noem exceeded her authority when she ended temporary protected status for Venezuelans.

The decision, however, will not have any immediate practical effect after the U.S. Supreme Court in October allowed Noem’s decision to take effect pending a final decision by the justices.

An email late Wednesday night to the Department of Homeland Security was not immediately returned.

The 9th Circuit panel also upheld the lower court’s finding that Noem exceeded her authority when she decided to end TPS early for hundreds of thousands of people from Haiti.

A federal judge in Washington is expected to rule any day now on a request to pause the termination of TPS for Haiti while a separate lawsuit challenging it proceeds. The country’s TPS designation is scheduled to end on Feb. 3.

Ninth Circuit Judges Kim Wardlaw, Salvador Mendoza, Jr. and Anthony Johnstone said in Wednesday’s ruling that the TPS legislation passed by Congress did not give the secretary the power to vacate an existing TPS designation. All three judges were nominated by Democratic presidents.

“The statute contains numerous procedural safeguards that ensure individuals with TPS enjoy predictability and stability during periods of extraordinary and temporary conditions in their home country,” Judge Kim Wardlaw, who was nominated by President Bill Clinton, wrote for the panel.

Wardlaw said Noem’s “unlawful actions have had real and significant consequences” for Venezuelans and Haitians in the United States who rely on TPS.

“The record is replete with examples of hard-working, contributing members of society — who are mothers, fathers, wives, husbands, and partners of U.S. citizens, pay taxes, and have no criminal records — who have been deported or detained after losing their TPS,” she wrote.

Temporary Protected Status, or TPS, authorized by Congress as part of the Immigration Act of 1990, allows the Homeland Security secretary to grant legal immigration status to people fleeing countries experiencing civil strife, environmental disaster or other “extraordinary and temporary conditions” that prevent a safe return to that home country.

Designations are granted for terms of six, 12 or 18 months, and extensions can be granted so long as conditions remain dire. The status prevents holders from being deported and allows them to work, but it does not give them a path to citizenship.

In ending the protections, Noem said that conditions in both Haiti and Venezuela had improved and that it was not in the national interest to allow immigrants from the two countries to stay on for what is a temporary program.

Millions of Venezuelans have fled political unrest, mass unemployment and hunger. The country is mired in a prolonged crisis brought on by years of hyperinflation, political corruption, economic mismanagement and an ineffectual government.

Haiti was first designated for TPS in 2010 after a catastrophic magnitude 7.0 earthquake killed and wounded hundreds of thousands of people, and left more than 1 million homeless. Haitians face widespread hunger and gang violence.

Mendoza wrote separately that there was “ample evidence of racial and national origin animus” that reinforced the lower court’s conclusion that Noem’s decisions were “preordained and her reasoning pretextual.”

“It is clear that the Secretary’s vacatur actions were not actually grounded in substantive policy considerations or genuine differences with respect to the prior administration’s TPS procedures, but were instead rooted in a stereotype-based diagnosis of immigrants from Venezuela and Haiti as dangerous criminals or mentally unwell,” he wrote.

Attorneys for the government have argued the secretary has clear and broad authority to make determinations related to the TPS program and those decisions are not subject to judicial review. They have also denied that her actions were motived by racial animus.

[ad_2]

Source link

January 28, 2026
‘We just want our lives back.’ Maduro’s gone, but what’s next for 8 million Venezuelans who fled?

[ad_1]

MEXICO CITY — Andrea Paola Hernández has one sister in Ecuador and another in London. She has cousins in Colombia, Chile, Argentina and the United States.

All fled poverty and political repression in Venezuela. Hernández, a human rights activist and outspoken critic of the country’s authoritarian leader, Nicolás Maduro, eventually left, too.

Since 2022 she has lived in Mexico City, working odd jobs for under-the-table pay because she lacks legal status. She cries most days, and dreams of reuniting with her far-flung relatives and friends. “We just want our lives back,” she said.

One of Maduro’s darkest legacies was the exodus of 8 million Venezuelans during his 13-year rule, one of the largest mass migrations in modern history. The flight of a third of the country’s population ripped apart families and has shaped the cultural and political landscape in the dozens of nations where Venezuelans have settled.

The surprise U.S. operation to capture Maduro this month has prompted mixed feelings among the diaspora. Relief, but also apprehension.

From Europe to Latin America to the U.S., those who left are asking whether they finally can go home. And if they do, what would they return to?

‘An ounce of justice’

Hernández was distressed by the U.S. attack, which killed dozens of people and is widely seen as illegal under international law. Still, she celebrated Maduro’s arrest as “an ounce of justice after decades of injustice.”

Andrea Paola Hernández, 30, an Afro-Indigenous, queer, feminist activist and writer from Maracaibo, Venezuela, stands for a portrait on the roof of her building on Friday in Mexico City. Hernández left Caracas in 2022.

(Alejandra Rajal / For The Times)

She is wary of what is to come.

President Trump has repeatedly touted Venezuela’s vast oil reserves, saying little about restoring democracy to the country. He says the U.S. will work with Maduro’s vice president, Delcy Rodríguez, who has been sworn in as Venezuela’s interim leader.

Hernández doesn’t trust Rodríguez, whom she believes is as responsible as anyone else for Venezuela’s misery: the eight-hour lines for food and medicine, the violent repression of street protests and the 2024 election that Maduro is widely believed to have rigged to stay in power.

Hernández blames the regime for personal pain, too. For the death of an aunt during the pandemic because there was no electricity to power ventilators; for the widespread hunger that caused her mother to tell her children: “We can have dinner or breakfast, but not both.”

Hernández, who believes she was being surveilled by Maduro’s government, says she will return to Venezuela only after elections have been held. “I’m not going back until I know that I’m not going to be killed or put in jail.”

‘Our identity was shattered’

Many in the diaspora are trying to reconcile conflicting emotions.

Damián Suárez, 37, an artist who left Venezuela for Chile in 2011 and who now lives in Mexico, said he was surprised to find himself defending the actions of Trump, a leader whose politics he otherwise disdains.

“We were fragmented and demoralized, and then someone came along and imprisoned the person responsible for all of that,” Suárez said. “When you’re drowning, you’re going to thank the person rescuing you, no matter who it is.”

Damián Suárez at his studio in the Condesa neighborhood on Friday in Mexico City. He arrived from Venezuela in 2011 and works as an artist and curator.

(Alejandra Rajal / For The Times)

Many countries have denounced the attack on Caracas and Trump’s vow to “run” the country in the short term as an unacceptable violation of Venezuela’s sovereignty.

For Suárez, those arguments ring hollow. For years, he said, the international community did little to mitigate the humanitarian crisis in Venezuela.

“A cry for help from millions of people went unanswered,” Suárez said. “The only thing worse than intervention is indifference.”

One of the first embroidery art works made by Damián Suárez as a child on display in his studio, in la Condesa in Mexico City. To this day, he uses string as his primary material, a form of resistance and defiance rooted in the hand-labor traditions of the community he comes from.

(Alejandra Rajal / For The Times)

Suárez, who is organizing an art show about Venezuela, blames Maduro for what he sees as a “spiritual void” among migrants who lost not just their physical home but also the people who gave meaning to their lives.

“Our identity was shattered,” he said, comparing migrants with “plants ripped from their soil.”

And though Maduro now sits in a jail in Brooklyn facing drug trafficking charges, Suárez said he will not go back to Venezuela.

He has a Mexican passport now and helped his family migrate to Mexico City. After years of feeling stateless, he’s finally planted roots.

Building lives in new countries

Tomás Paez, a Venezuelan sociologist living in Spain who studies the diaspora, says that surveys over the years show that only about 20% of immigrants say they would return permanently to Venezuela. Many have built lives in their new countries, he said.

Paez, who left Venezuela several years ago as inflation spiraled and crime spiked, has grandchildren in Spain and said he would be loath to leave them.

“There isn’t a family in Venezuela that doesn’t have a son, a brother, an uncle, or a nephew living elsewhere,” he said, adding that 50% of households in Venezuela depend on remittances from abroad. “Migration has broadened Venezuela’s borders. We’re talking about a whole new geography.”

Migrants left Venezuela under diverse circumstances. Earlier waves left on flights with immigration documents. More recent departees often take clandestine overland routes into Colombia or Brazil or risked the dangerous journey across the Darien Gap into Central America on their way north.

The restriction of immigration law across Latin America has made it harder and harder for migrants to find refuge. One fourth of Venezuelan migrants globally lack legal immigration status, Paez said. And a majority don’t have Venezuelan passports, which are difficult to acquire or renew from abroad.

‘So tired of politics’

Throughout the Western Hemisphere, enclaves of Venezuelans have sprouted up, such as one in Tuxtla Gutiérrez, a Mexican town near the border with Guatemala.

Richard Osorio ended up there with his husband after a stint living in Texas. Osorio’s husband was deported from the U.S. in August as part of Trump’s crackdown on Venezuelan migrants. Osorio joined him in Mexico after a lawyer told him that U.S. immigration agents might target him, too, because he has tattoos, even though they are of birds and flowers.

The pair are undocumented in Mexico and work for cash at one of the Venezuelan restaurants that have sprung up in recent months.

On the day of the U.S. operation that resulted in Maduro’s arrest, hundreds of Venezuelans cheered the news in a local square. Osorio was working a 14-hour shift and missed the party. It was fine. He didn’t have the energy to celebrate.

“I’m so tired of politics, of these ups and downs that we’ve experienced for years,” Osorio said. “At every turn, there’s been suffering.”

Richard Osorio poses for a portrait in Juarez, Mexico, in July.

(Alejandro Cegarra / For The Times)

He had a hard time conjuring warm feelings for Trump given the U.S. president’s war on immigrants, including the deportation of more than 200 Venezuelans that he claimed were gang members to an infamous prison in El Salvador.

Maduro and Trump, he said, are more alike than many people admit. Neither cares for human rights or democracy. “We felt the same way in the U.S. as we did in Venezuela,” Osorio said.

He said he wouldn’t return to Venezuela until there were decent jobs and protections for the LGBTQ+ community. Life in southern Mexico was dangerous, he said, and he wasn’t earning enough to send money to relatives back home.

But returning to Venezuela didn’t feel like an option yet.

Daring to dream

Hernández, the writer and activist, said many in the diaspora are too traumatized to imagine a future in Venezuela. “We’ve all been deprived of so much,” she said.

But when she dares to dream, she pictures a Venezuela with free elections, functioning schools, hospitals and a vibrant cultural scene. She sees members of the diaspora returning, and improving the country with the skills they’ve learned abroad.

“We all want to go back and build,” she said. The question now is when.

[ad_2]

Kate Linthicum

Source link

January 12, 2026
While celebrating Maduro’s capture, Venezuelan immigrants worry about deportation

[ad_1]

WASHINGTON — After President Trump ordered strikes that led to the capture of Venezuela’s president, Nicolás Maduro, celebrations erupted in Venezuelan communities across the U.S.

But for many of the hundreds of thousands of Venezuelan immigrants facing possible deportation, their relief and joy were cut by the fear about what comes next from an administration that has zeroed in on Venezuelans as a target.

“Many of us asked ourselves, ‘What’s going to happen with us now?’” said A.G., a 39-year-old in Tennessee who asked to be identified by her initials because she lacks legal status. Even so, Maduro’s ouster gave her a lot of hope for her mother country.

Venezuelans began fleeing in droves in 2014 as economic collapse led to widespread food and medicine shortages, as well as political repression. Nearly 8 million Venezuelans are now living outside the country — including 1.2 million in the U.S.

Venezuelans migrants walk toward Bucaramanga, Colombia, in 2019.

(Marcus Yam/Los Angeles Times)

A.G. and her now-18-year-old son arrived at the southern border in 2019. Since then, she said, they have built a good life — they own a transport company with delivery trucks, pay taxes and follow the law.

Maduro’s fall left her with mixed feelings.

“He’s obviously a dictator, many people have died because of him and he refused to give up power, but the reason that they entered Venezuela, for me what President Trump did was illegal,” she said. “Innocent people died because of the bombs. I’m asking God that it all be for good reason.”

Dozens of Venezuelans and others were killed in the U.S. invasion — more than 100, a government official said — including civilians.

The Trump administration is framing its Venezuela operation as an opportunity for Venezuelans like A.G. “Now, they can return to the country they love and rebuild its future,” said U.S. Citizenship and Immigration Services spokesman Matthew Tragesser.

Katie Blankenship, a Miami-based attorney with Sanctuary of the South who has represented many Venezuelans facing deportation, sees a less promising future.

“We’re going to see increased targeting of Venezuelans to force them to leave the U.S. into a political and socioeconomic environment that’s likely only more destabilized and subject to more abuse,” she said.

The Venezuelan community in the U.S. swelled, in part, because the Biden administration expanded pathways for them to enter the country.

Volunteer help a Venezuelan immigrant at the storage units from a volunteer-run program that distributes donations to recently arrived Venezuelan immigrants in need, in Miami, Fla., in 2023.

(Eva Marie Uzcategui / Los Angeles Times)

One of those programs allowed more than 117,000 Venezuelans to purchase flights directly to the U.S. and stay for two years if they had a U.S.-based financial sponsor and passed a background check. Other Venezuelans entered legally at land ports of entry after scheduling interviews with border officers.

By the end of the Biden administration, more than 600,000 Venezuelans had protection from deportation under Temporary Protected Status, a program used by both Republican and Democratic administrations for immigrants who cannot return home because of armed conflict, natural disaster or other “extraordinary and temporary conditions.”

On the campaign trail, Trump repeatedly referred to Venezuelan immigrants as criminals, singling them out more than any other nationality — in 64% of speeches, an Axios analysis showed. He has said repeatedly, without evidence that Venezuela emptied its prisons and mental institutions to flood the U.S. with immigrants.

One of Trump’s first acts as president was to designate the Venezuelan gang Tren de Aragua as a foreign terrorist organization. Within two months, he invoked an 18th century wartime law, the Alien Enemies Act, to deport 252 Venezuelan men accused of being Tren de Aragua members to El Salvador, where they were imprisoned and tortured despite many having no criminal histories in the U.S. or Latin America.

Later, the Trump administration stripped away protections for Venezuelans with financial sponsors and TPS, with Homeland Security Secretary Kristi Noem calling the latter “contrary to the national interest.”

In a September Federal Register Notice, Noem said that TPS for Venezuelans undercut the administration’s foreign policy objectives because one result of allowing Venezuelans in the U.S. was “relieving pressure on Maduro’s regime to enact domestic reforms and facilitate safe return conditions.” In other words, if Venezuelans returned home, that would pressure the government to enact reforms.

Secretary of Homeland Security Kristi Noem, along with U.S. Atty. Gen. Pam Bondi, left, and Louisiana Gov. Jeff Landry, right, participates in a news conference near Camp 57 at Angola prison, the Louisiana State Penitentiary and America’s largest maximum-security prison farm, to announce the opening of a new Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) facility that will house immigrants convicted of crimes in West Feliciana Parish, Louisiana, on Sept. 3, 2025.

(Matthew Hilton / AFP via Getty Images)

The administration has offered contrasting assessments of conditions in Venezuela. Noem wrote that although certain adverse conditions continue, “there are notable improvements in several areas such as the economy, public health, and crime.”

Throughout the year, though, the State Department continued to reissue an “extreme danger” travel advisory for Venezuela, urging Americans to leave the country immediately.

Conditions for Venezuelans in the U.S. grew more complicated after a man from Afghanistan was accused of shooting two National Guard members in November; in response, the administration froze the immigration cases of people from 39 countries, including Venezuela, that the administration considers “high-risk.” That means anyone who applied for asylum, a visa, a green card or any other benefit remains in limbo indefinitely.

After a panel of the U.S. 5th Circuit Court of Appeals struck down the Trump administration’s use of the Alien Enemies Act in September, the Justice Department appealed. In a support brief filed in December, the Justice Department cited escalating tensions with Venezuela.

David Smilde, a Tulane University sociologist and expert on Venezuelan politics, said that invading Venezuela could justify renewed use of the Alien Enemies Act.

The law says the president can invoke the Alien Enemies Act not only in times of “declared war,” but also when a foreign government threatens or carries out an “invasion” or “predatory incursion” against the U.S.

“Now it will be difficult, I think, for the court to say, ‘No, you can’t use this,’” Smilde said.

With U.S. officials promising improved conditions in Venezuela and encouraging citizens to return, Smilde said, they could invoke the Alien Enemies Act to quickly deport undocumented immigrants who don’t leave willingly.

“There’s several layers to this,” he said, “and none of it looks very good for Venezuelan immigrants.”

This couple from Venezuela shared their story of why they left their three children back in their home country and spoke of the the experiences of their travel to the United States at the Parkside Community Church in Sacramento on June 16, 2023.

(Jose Luis Villegas / For The Times)

Jose, a 28-year-old Venezuelan living east of Los Angeles, fled Venezuela in 2015 after being imprisoned and beaten for criticizing the government. He lived in Colombia and Peru before illegally crossing the U.S. border in 2022, and now has a pending asylum application. Jose asked to be identified by his middle name out of fear of retaliation by the U.S. government.

The news this week that an ICE agent had shot and killed a woman in Minnesota heightened his anxiety.

“You come here because supposedly this is a country with freedom of expression, and there is more safety, but with this government, now you’re afraid you’ll get killed,” he said. “And that was a U.S. citizen. Imagine what they could do to me?”

People visit a memorial for Renee Nicole Good on Jan. 7 in Minneapolis.

(Scott Olson / Getty Images)

Jose qualifies for a work permit based on his pending asylum, but his application for one is frozen because of the executive order following the National Guard shooting.

The news of Maduro’s arrest was bittersweet, Jose said, because his mother and grandmother didn’t live to witness that day. He said his mother died last year of kidney failure due to lack of medical care, leaving him as the primary breadwinner for his two young sisters who remain in Venezuela with their father, who is disabled.

Still, he said he’s happy with what Trump has done in Venezuela.

“People are saying he’s stealing our petroleum,” he said, “but for 25 years, Cuba, China and Iran have been stealing the petroleum and it didn’t improve our lives.”

Many Venezuelans were encouraged by news that Venezuela would release a “significant number” of political prisoners as a peace gesture.

For Jose, that’s not enough. Venezuela’s government ordered police to search for anyone involved in promoting or supporting the attack by U.S. forces, leading to detentions of journalists and civilians.

“Venezuela remains the same,” he said. “The same disgrace, the same poverty and the same government repression.”

A.G. said she was heartened to hear Noem say Sunday on Fox News that every Venezeulan who had TPS “has the opportunity to apply for refugee status and that evaluation will go forward.” But the administration quickly backtracked and said that was not the case.

Instead, Noem and other administration officials have doubled down on the notion that Venezuelans without permanent lawful status should leave. Noem told Fox News that there are no plans to pause deportation flights despite the political uncertainty in Venezuela.

Tragesser, the U.S. Citizenship and Immigration Services spokesman, said the agency’s posture hasn’t changed.

“USCIS encourages all Venezuelans unlawfully in the U.S. to use the CBP Home app for help with a safe and orderly return to their country,” he said.

[ad_2]

Andrea Castillo

Source link

January 11, 2026
Video showing Venezuelans celebrating is from 2024

[ad_1]

After Venezuelan leader Nicolás Maduro’s capture, social media users rapidly shared videos showing Venezuelans celebrating.

But many of these videos predated his arrest by the U.S. military. One in particular — from conspiracy theorist Alex Jones — stood out, receiving 2 million views as of Jan. 5.

“Millions of Venezuelans flooded the streets of Caracas and other major cities in celebration of the ouster of Communist dictator Nicholas Maduro,” Jones posted Jan. 3 on X along with a video showing hordes of people gathered outside, chanting and waving the Venezuelan flag.

The same video was shared July 30, 2024, on X and Instagram. It shows people protesting election officials’ declaration that Maduro had won the country’s presidential election. Venezuelan politician Tomás Guanipa also shared the footage in a 2024 Instagram post in which he called on the National Electoral Council to publish the presidential election results. A Dominican Republic news outlet also reported on the footage.

Maduro and wife Cilia Flores were both forcibly taken into U.S. custody Jan. 3 and made their first appearance in U.S. federal court Jan. 5, facing charges related to cocaine trafficking. Maduro and Flores each pleaded not guilty.

In some parts of the world, Venezuelan expatriates celebrated Maduro’s ousting. He led an authoritarian regime for 13 years and declared victory after a 2024 election that international observers described as fraudulent. The country’s opposition candidate, Edmundo González Urrutia, received about 70% of the vote.

However, anti-Maduro sentiments were muted in Venezuela’s streets following the U.S. raid and capture, reporting from the country shows. Maduro’s inner-circle, including his vice president, who has now been sworn in as Venezuela’s interim president, appeared to remain in leadership roles, raising citizens’ concerns about possible retaliation. Fortune reported that the streets of Caracas were largely quiet in the days following the U.S. attack that led to Maduro’s capture, save Maduro supporters who publicly condemned his arrest. The Associated Press shared footage of a quiet Caracas after the U.S. operation.

Jones wasn’t alone in sharing outdated or out of context video as proof Maduro’s capture had sparked widespread celebration inside Venezuela.

President Donald Trump shared a video Jan. 5 of Venezuelans gathering with the caption, “Trump just showed every liberal Democrat what a real No Kings celebration is supposed to look like.” But the footage was first shared in 2024 and showed people in El Vigía, Venezuela, cheering Venezuelan opposition leader Maria Corina Machado’s movement.

YouTuber Nick Shirley posted a video on X Jan. 3 that he also said showed celebrations in Venezuela. But the Miami Herald and other local news outlets said the scene was filmed Jan. 3 in Doral, Florida.

And a widely shared Jan. 3 X post showed video of someone tearing a Maduro poster from a Venezuela billboard. But that scene was captured in July 2024 in an Aragua, Venezuela, protest against election fraud, according to a Venezuelan news outlet.

Our ruling

Jones said a video showed “millions of Venezuelans flooded the streets of Caracas” to celebrate Maduro’s capture.

The footage dates back to 2024 when citizens protested election officials’ declaration that Maduro had won the country’s presidential election. News coverage shows Venezuelan streets were largely quiet following U.S. attacks in Caracas.

We rate this claim False.

[ad_2]

Source link

January 5, 2026
Commentary: In Trump’s invasion of Venezuela, Marco Rubio is the biggest sellout of all

[ad_1]

By invading Venezuela, President Trump just lit America’s eternal exploding cigar.

For over 175 years — ever since the United States conquered half of Mexico — nearly every president has messed with Latin America while telling the rest of the world to stay the hell out.

We have helped depose democratically elected leaders and propped up murderous strongmen. Trained death squads and offered bailouts to favored allies. Ran economic blockades and encouraged American companies to treat the region’s riches, and its workers, like a cookie jar.

From the Mexican American War to the Bay of Pigs invasion, the Panama Canal to NAFTA, we’ve only looked out for ourselves in Latin America even while wrapping our actions in the banner of benevolence.

It’s rarely ended well for anyone involved — especially us. Many of the leaders we put into power became despots we tolerated until they ran their course, like Panama’s Manuel Noriega. The political upheaval we helped create has led generations of Latin Americans to migrate to el Norte, fundamentally changing our country even as too many Americans think people like my family should have stayed in their ancestral homes.

So there Trump was at Mar-a-Lago on Saturday, insisting that the capture of Venezuela dictator Nicolás Maduro and his wife by American troops was a military action as brilliant and consequential as D-day. He also announced that the U.S. would “run the country” and practically jiggled out his weird “YMCA” dance at the idea of making money from Venezuelan oil.

His message to the world: Venezuela is ours until we say so, just like the rest of Latin America. And if allies and enemies alike still didn’t get the hint, Trump announced an updated Monroe Doctrine — the idea that the U.S. can do whatever it wants in the Western Hemisphere — called the “Donroe Doctrine.”

Because of course he did.

No one in Washington should be more versed in this terrible history than Secretary of State Marco Rubio, the child of Cubans who fled the island when it was ruled by the U.S.-backed caudillo Fulgencio Batista.

Rubio grew up in an exile community that saw Batista’s replacement, Fidel Castro, remain in power for decades, despite a U.S. embargo. As one of Florida’s U.S. senators, Rubio represented millions of Latin American immigrants who had fled civil wars sparked by the U.S. in one way or another.

Yet he’s Trumpworld’s biggest cheerleader for Latin American regime change, helping torpedo the president’s anti-interventionist campaign promise as if it were a narco boat off the South American coast.

On Saturday, Rubio looked on silently as Trump threatened Colombian President Gustavo Petro to “watch his ass.” When it was Rubio’s turn to take questions from reporters, he said Cuban leaders “should be concerned” and offered a warning to the rest of the world: “Don’t play games with this president in office, because it’s not going to turn out well.”

In Latin America, few are more reviled than the vendido — the sellout. Betraying one’s country for personal or political gain is an original sin dating back to the tribes who aligned with Spanish conquistadors to take down repressive empires, only to suffer the same sad end themselves. Vendidos have dominated the region’s history and stilted its development, with leaders — Mexico’s Porfirio Diaz, the Somozas of Nicaragua, Rafael Trujillo in the Dominican Republic — more than happy to side with the yanquis at the expense of their own countrymen.

Rubio belongs to this long, sordid lineup — and in many ways, he’s the worst vendido of them all.

Then-Sen. Marco Rubio (R-Fla.), left, listens during a 2016 president debate with candidate Donald Trump.

(Wilfredo Lee / Associated Press)

I still remember the fresh-faced, idealistic guy trying to pass a bipartisan amnesty bill in 2013. Though too right-wing for my taste, he seemed like a Latino politician who could thread the needle between liberals and conservatives, gringos and us.

It was wonderful to see him call out Trump’s boorishness when the two ran against each other in the 2016 Republican presidential primary. He told CNN’s Jake Tapper, in words that sound more prophetic than ever, “For years to come, there are many people … that are going to be having to explain and justify how they fell into this trap of supporting Donald Trump because this is not going to end well, one way or the other.”

The thirst for power has a way of corrupting even the most idealistic hearts, alas. Rubio ended up endorsing Trump in 2016, supporting Trump’s claims that the 2020 election was rigged and proclaiming at the 2024 Republican National Convention that Trump “has not just transformed our party, he has inspired a movement.”

Rubio’s reward for his boot-licking? He sets our foreign policy agenda, which is like putting an arsonist in charge of a fireworks stall.

I’m sure all of this comes off as leftist babble to the Venezuelan diaspora, many of whom cheered Maduro’s fate from Spain to Mexico, Miami to Los Angeles. Only a deluded pendejo could support what Maduro wrought on Venezuela, which was a prosperous country and a relatively stable U.S. ally for decades as the rest of South America teetered from one crisis to another.

But for Trump, toppling Maduro was never about the well-being of Venezuelans or bringing democracy to their country; it was about securing a foothold to flex American power and enrich the U.S.

Meanwhile, his deportation Leviathan has gobbled up tens of thousands of undocumented Venezuelans and canceled the temporary protected status of hundreds of thousands more.

Back in 2022, when Rubio was still a senator, he advocated for Venezuelans to be eligible for temporary protected status, which is granted to citizens of countries considered too dangerous to return to. At the time, Rubio argued that “failure to do so would result in a very real death sentence for countless Venezuelans who have fled their country.”

Now? At a May news conference, he maintained that the 240 Venezuelans deported to El Salvador earlier in 2025 “were not migrants, these were criminals,” even though the Deportation Data Project found that only 16% of them had criminal convictions.

Rubio has long fashioned himself as a modern-day Simón Bolívar, the Venezuelan who led the liberation of South America from Spain and who has been a hero to many Latinos ever since.

But even Bolívar knew to be skeptical of American hegemony, writing in an 1829 letter that the U.S. “seems destined by Providence to plague [Latin] America with miseries in the name of Freedom.”

Plague, thy name is Marco Rubio. By pushing Trump to run rampant over Latin America, you’re setting in motion the same old song of U.S. meddling that ties your family and mine. By letting Maduro’s cronies remain in power if they play along with you and Trump, even though they stole an election in 2024, proves you’re as much for the Venezuelan people as, well, Maduro.

Vendido.

[ad_2]

Gustavo Arellano

Source link

January 5, 2026
In Venezuela after Maduro, a common refrain: The oil is ours

[ad_1]

CARACAS, Venezuela — Like many other Venezuelans, Ramón Arape said the image of ex-President Nicolás Maduro in U.S. custody was a stunning — and welcome — sight.

“I confess that I felt a sense of relief when I saw the photo of Maduro in the hands of los gringos,” said Arape, 59, a welder and father of three.

Less reassuring, however, were President Trump’s comments about Washington’s determination to take over the government and the oil industry, the nation’s defining natural resource.

“We’ve already had it with outsiders — Cubans, Iranians, Chinese — and now the Americans come along and want to name leaders and sell our oil?” said Arape, referring to a series of foreign allies sought out by the socialist governments of Maduro and his predecessor, the late Hugo Chávez. “It’s a violation of law and sovereignty.”

Many Venezuelans are hoping for a deliverance, but not, it seems, at the cost of selling off the country’s riches. How that plays out with Trump’s view that Venezuela “stole” a U.S.-built oil industry is one of the big questions as Washington embarks on a massive nation-building endeavor in South America.

Like many other nations, Venezuela nationalized its oil industry in the 20th century, a process begun in the 1970s under a U.S.-allied government in Caracas. Several U.S. oil giants later made claims of illegal expropriation against the government of Chávez, Maduro’s mentor. But few here seemed inclined to believe in Trump’s assertion, made on social media, that Venezuela must return “all of the Oil, Land and other Assets that they previously stole from us.”

Sunday was just a day after the shocking events that saw U.S. forces sweep into the capital and snatch Maduro and his wife, Cilia Flores, from Miraflores Palace, the seat of government, and fly them out of the country — and, eventually, to New York, where both face drug-trafficking charges. Both deny the charges, calling them U.S. propaganda.

Venezuelans with internet access had the opportunity to view the unlikely image of Maduro, bundled up for distinctly non-tropical temperatures and flanked by federal agents, doing a perp walk at a military base in New York and apparently telling onlookers: “Happy New Year.”

In the Venezuelan capital, life was slowly returning to a semblance of normalcy on Sunday, albeit on a weekend pace.

Cars and some public transport circulated on streets that had been deserted the day before. People ventured cautiously from their homes after spending much of Saturday indoors, fearing the explosions and a potential aftermath. Many went to church in this overwhelmingly Roman Catholic nation. Sermons called for peace.

There was a palpable sense of relief that the threat of war had abated, at least temporarily. Many were still absorbing the almost unbelievable turn of events that has surely transformed the nation’s future — albeit in still unpredictable ways.

But there was an overriding determination, among both supporters and critics of the ousted president, that the country’s oil and other resources were sacrosanct, and not to be handed over to the United States — or anyone else.

“Really it was very emotional to finally see Maduro and Cilia handcuffed and prisoners,” said Fernando González, 29, a plumber who says he supports Marína Corina Machado, the Nobel Peace Prize laureate and longtime opposition leader. “Those two have to pay for their crimes. For that we thank Trump. But that’s not to say we are in agreement with everything he seems to want to do.”

The president’s determination to “run” Venezuela — and take over its oil — didn’t go down well with González, a fervent nationalist in a country with a long history of nationalist activism.

“This is all a farce if they get rid of Maduro just to appropriate and sell the oil,” he said. “It can’t be that way. We want progress, change, but a transition led by Venezuelans. It can’t all be at the will of the Americans.”

González saw a role for the United States: “To help us deal with this social drama of an impoverished country.” But, he added: “They must respect our will.”

Arape, the welder, summed up the sentiment of many. “We didn’t go through all this so that Trump can name his people and take over our oil,” he said.

On Saturday, Trump had said, “We’re going to run the country until such time as we can do a safe, proper and judicious transition.” On Sunday, however, administration officials walked back that statement, saying the U.S. would pressure the Venezuelan government to acquiesce to U.S. demands.

Secretary of State Marco Rubio said the threat of more military action would serve as “leverage” over the Venezuelan government.

In Caracas, confusion about the future was a prevalent sentiment, among both critics and supporters of Maduro.

“We would like to know who is really in charge,” said William Rojas, 31, a father of two who lives in the El Valle district, long a Maduro stronghold.

In his news conference Saturday, Trump said that Maduro’s vice president, Delcy Rodríguez, had been named interim president, a fact seemingly confirmed Sunday by Telesur, the government broadcast outlet. But Rodríguez, in an address Saturday from Miraflores Palace, demanded that Washington return the “kidnapped” Maduro, whom she called the “sole” president of the country.

“Delcy Rodríguez says that Maduro remains the president, but he’s no longer here,” said Rojas. “And how were they able to whisk him away? Who betrayed our president?”

He added, “We can’t live with the idea that the ones who really govern us are Trump and Marco Rubio! We are totally confused.”

Amid all the prevailing ambiguity, authorities called on people to revert to everyday patterns — as though Maduro were still around.

There were still no official casualty counts from Saturday’s raid. In an address, the defense secretary, Gen. Vladimir Padrino López, called the operation a “cowardly kidnapping” that was carried out “after cold-bloodedly assassinating a large part of the president’s security detail, soldiers and innocent civilians,” according to Telesur.

Padrino urged Venezuelans to return to their jobs and to school, adding, “I call on the Venezuelan people to peace, to order, to not fall to temptations or a psychological war, to threats, to the fear that they want to impose upon us.”

Special correspondent Mogollón reported from Caracas and staff writer McDonnell from Boston.

[ad_2]

Mery Mogollón, Patrick J. McDonnell

Source link

January 4, 2026
On the ground in Venezuela: Shock, fear and defiance

[ad_1]

CARACAS, Venezuela — It was about 2 a.m. Saturday Caracas time when the detonations began, lighting up the sullen sky like a post-New Year’s fireworks display.

“¡Ya comenzó!” was the recurrent phrase in homes, telephone conversations and social media chats as the latest iteration of U.S. “shock and awe” rocked the Venezuelan capital. “It has begun!”

Then the question: “¿Maduro?”

The great uncertainty was the whereabouts of President Nicolás Maduro, who has been under Trump administration threat for months.

The scenes of revelry from a joyous Venezuelan diaspora celebrating from Miami to Madrid were not repeated here. Fear of the unknown kept most at home.

Hours would pass before news reports from outside Venezuela confirmed that U.S. forces had captured Maduro and placed him on a U.S. ship to face criminal charges in federal court in New York.

Venezuelans had watched the unfolding spectacle from their homes, using social media to exchange images of explosions and the sounds of bombardment. This moment, it was clear, was ushering in a new era of uncertainly for Venezuela, a nation reeling from a decade of economic, political and social unrest.

Government supporters display posters of Venezuelan President Nicolás Maduro, right, and former President Hugo Chávez in downtown Caracas on Saturday.

(Matias Delacroix / Associated Press)

The ultimate result was an imponderable. But that this was a transformative moment — for good or bad — seemed indisputable.

By daybreak, an uneasy calm overtook the city of more than 3 million. The explosions and the drone of U.S. aircraft ceased. Blackouts cut electricity to parts of the capital.

Pro-government youths wielding automatic rifles set up roadblocks or sped through the streets on motorcycles, a warning to those who might celebrate Maduro’s downfall.

Shops, gas stations and other businesses were mostly closed. There was little traffic.

“When I heard the explosions, I grabbed my rosary and began to pray,” said Carolina Méndez, 50, who was among the few who ventured out Saturday, seeking medicines at a pharmacy, though no personnel had arrived to attend to clients waiting on line. “I’m very scared now. That’s why I came to buy what I need.”

A sense of alarm was ubiquitous.

Motorcycles and cars line up for gas Saturday in Caracas. Most of the population stayed indoors, reluctant to leave their homes except for gas and food.

(Andrea Hernandez Briceno / For The Times)

“People are buying bottled water, milk and eggs,” said Luz Pérez, a guard at one of the few open shops, not far from La Carlota airport, one of the sites targeted by U.S. strikes. “I heard the explosions. It was very scary. But the owner decided to open anyway to help people.”

Customers were being allowed to enter three at a time. Most didn’t want to speak. Their priority was to stock up on basics and get home safely.

Rumors circulated rapidly that U.S. forces had whisked away Maduro and his wife, Cilia Flores.

There was no immediate official confirmation here of the detention of Maduro and Flores, both wanted in the United States for drug-trafficking charges — allegations that Maduro has denounced as U.S. propaganda. But then images of an apparently captive Maduro, blindfolded, in a sweatsuit soon circulated on social media.

There was no official estimate of Venezuelan casualties in the U.S. raid.

Rumors circulated indicating that a number of top Maduro aides had been killed, among them Diosdado Cabello, the security minister who is a staunch Maduro ally. Cabello is often the face of the government.

But Cabello soon appeared on official TV denouncing “the terrorist attack against our people,” adding: “Let no one facilitate the moves of the enemy invader.”

Although Trump, in his Saturday news conference, confidently predicted that the United States would “run” Venezuela, apparently during some undefined transitional period, it’s not clear how that will be accomplished.

A key question is whether the military — long a Maduro ally — will remain loyal now that he is in U.S. custody. There was no public indication Saturday of mass defections from the Venezuelan armed forces. Nor was it clear that Maduro’s government infrastructure had lost control of the country. Official media reported declarations of loyalty from pro-government politicians and citizens from throughout Venezuela.

A billboard with an image of President Nicolas Maduro stands next to La Carlota military base in Caracas, Venezuela, on Saturday. The graffiti reads, “Fraud, fraud.”

(Andrea Hernandez Briceno / For The Times)

In his comments, Trump spoke of a limited U.S. troop presence in Venezuela, focused mostly on protecting the oil infrastructure that his administration says was stolen from the United States — a characterization widely rejected here, even among Maduro’s critics. But Trump offered few details on sending in U.S. personnel to facilitate what could be a tumultuous transition.

Meantime, Venezuelan Vice President Delcy Rodríguez surfaced on official television and demanded the immediate release of Maduro and his wife, according to the official Telesur broadcast outlet. Her comments seemed to be the first official acknowledgment that Maduro had been taken.

“There is one president of this country, and his name is Nicolás Maduro,” the vice president said in an address from Miraflores Palace, from where Maduro and his wife had been seized hours earlier.

During an emergency meeting of the National Defense Council, Telesur reported, Rodríguez labeled the couple’s detention an “illegal kidnapping.”

The Trump administration, the vice president charged, meant to “capture our energy, mineral and [other] natural resources.”

Her defiant words came after Trump, in his news conference, said that Rodríguez had been sworn in as the country’s interim president and had evinced a willingness to cooperate with Washington.

“She’s essentially willing to do what we think is necessary to make Venezuela great again,” Trump said.

Pro-government armed civilians patrol in La Guaira, Venezuela, on Saturday after President Trump announced that President Nicolás Maduro had been captured and flown out of the country.

(Matias Delacroix / Associated Press)

Somewhat surprisingly, Trump also seemed to rule out a role in an interim government for Marina Corina Machado, the Venezuelan Nobel Peace Prize laureate and longtime anti-Maduro activist.

“She’s a very nice woman, but doesn’t have respect within the country,” Trump said of Machado.

Machado is indeed a controversial figure within the fractured Venezuelan opposition. Some object to her open calls for U.S. intervention, preferring a democratic change in government.

Nonetheless, her stand-in candidate, Edmundo González, did win the presidency in national balloting last year, according to opposition activists and others, who say Maduro stole the election.

“Venezuelans, the moment of liberty has arrived!” Machado wrote in a letter released on X. “We have fought for years. … What was meant to happen is happening.”

Not everyone agreed.

“They want our oil and they say it’s theirs,” said Roberto, 65, a taxi driver who declined to give his last name for security reasons. “Venezuelans don’t agree. Yes, I think people will go out and defend their homeland.”

Special correspondent Mogollón reported from Caracas and staff writer McDonnell from Boston. Contributing was special correspondent Cecilia Sánchez Vidal in Mexico City.

[ad_2]

Mery Mogollon, Patrick J. McDonnell

Source link

January 3, 2026
Supreme Court says again Trump may cancel temporary protections for Venezuelans granted under Biden

[ad_1]

WASHINGTON — The Supreme Court has ruled for a second time that the Trump administration may cancel the “temporary protected status” given to about 600,000 Venezuelans under the Biden administration.

The move, advocates for the Venezuelans said, means thousands of lawfully present individuals could lose their jobs, be detained in immigration facilities and deported to a country that the U.S. government considers unsafe to visit.

The high court granted an emergency appeal from Trump’s lawyers and set aside decisions of U.S. District Judge Edward Chen in San Francisco and the 9th Circuit Court of Appeals.

“Although the posture of the case has changed, the parties’ legal arguments and relative harms generally have not. The same result that we reached in May is appropriate here,” the court said in an unsigned order.

Justices Elena Kagan and Sonia Sotomayor said they would have denied the appeal.

Justice Ketanji Brown Jackson dissented. “I view today’s decision as yet another grave misuse of our emergency docket,” she wrote. “Because, respectfully, I cannot abide our repeated, gratuitous, and harmful interference with cases pending in the lower courts while lives hang in the balance, I dissent.”

Last month, a three-judge panel of the 9th Circuit Court said Homeland Security Secretary Kristi Noem had overstepped her legal authority by canceling the legal protection.

Her decision “threw the future of these Venezuelan citizens into disarray and exposed them to substantial risk of wrongful removal, separation from their families and loss of employment,” the panel wrote.

But Trump’s lawyers said the law bars judges from reviewing these decisions by U.S. immigration officials.

Congress authorized this protected status for people who are already in the United States but cannot return home because their native countries are not safe.

The Biden administration offered the protections to Venezuelans because of the political and economic collapse brought about by the authoritarian regime of Nicolás Maduro.

Alejandro Mayorkas, the Homeland Security secretary under Biden, granted the protected status to groups of Venezuelans in 2021 and 2023, totaling about 607,000 people.

Mayorkas extended it again in January, three days before Trump was sworn in. That same month, Noem decided to reverse the extension, which was set to expire for both groups of Venezuelans in October 2026.

Shortly after, Noem announced the termination of protections for the 2023 group by April.

In March, Chen issued an order temporarily pausing Noem’s repeal, which the Supreme Court set aside in May with only Jackson in dissent.

The San Francisco judge then held a hearing on the issue and concluded Noem’s repeal violated the Administrative Procedure Act because it was arbitrary and and not justified.

He said his earlier order imposing a temporary pause did not prevent him from ruling on the legality of the repeal, and the 9th Circuit agreed.

The approximately 350,000 Venezuelans who had TPS through the 2023 designation saw their legal status restored. Many reapplied for work authorization, said Ahilan Arulanantham, co-director of the Center for Immigration Law and Policy at UCLA School of Law, and a counsel for the plaintiffs.

In the meantime, Noem announced the cancellation of the 2021 designation, effective Nov. 7.

Trump’s solicitor general, D. John Sauer, went back to the Supreme Court in September and urged the justices to set aside the second order from Chen.

“This case is familiar to the Court and involves the increasingly familiar and untenable phenomenon of lower courts disregarding this Court’s orders on the emergency docket,” he said.

The Supreme Court’s decision once again reverses the legal status of the 2023 group and cements the end of legal protections for the 2021 group next month.

In a further complication, the Supreme Court’s previous decision said that anyone who had already received documents verifying their TPS status or employment authorization through next year is entitled to keep it.

That, Arulanantham said, “creates another totally bizarre situation, where there are some people who will have TPS through October 2026 as they’re supposed to because the Supreme Court says if you already got a document it can’t be canceled. Which to me just underscores how arbitrary and irrational the whole situation is.”

Advocates for the Venezuelans said the Trump administration has failed to show that their presence in the U.S. is an emergency requiring immediate court relief.

In a brief filed Monday, attorneys for the National TPS Alliance argued the Supreme Court should deny the Trump administration’s request because Homeland Security officials acted outside the scope of their authority by revoking the TPS protections early.

“Stripping the lawful immigration status of 600,000 people on 60 days’ notice is unprecedented,” Jessica Bansal, an attorney representing the Los Angeles-based National Day Laborer Organizing Network, wrote in a statement. “Doing it after promising an additional 18 months protection is illegal.”

[ad_2]

David G. Savage, Andrea Castillo

Source link

October 3, 2025
As U.S. fleet steams toward coast, Venezuelans face uncertainty, fear and, for some, hope

[ad_1]

CARACAS, Venezuela — U.S. warships steam toward the southern Caribbean. The Trump administration denounces embattled “narco-president” Nicolás Maduro and doubles a bounty on his head to $50 million. Rumors of an invasion, coup or other form of U.S. intervention flood social media.

For the beleaguered people of Venezuela, mired in more than a decade of crisis — hyperinflation, food shortages, authoritarian rule and rigged elections — a new phase of anxiety is once again rattling nerves. Even so, Venezuelans are trying to soldier on.

“We try to keep up our activities, our schedules despite the uncertainty,” said Leisy Torcatt, 44, a mother of three who heads a baseball school in a nation where a passion for sports helps fend off despair.

Students of the little league team for the Los Angeles de Baruta school practice in a park in Caracas.

“Our daily problems continue, but we cannot become paralyzed. … We keep on going forward trying to work out our differences,” she said.

There is an inescapable sense here that matters are largely out of people’s control. The massive anti-Maduro street protests of past years did little to dislodge, or undermine, Maduro, and the opposition has long been deeply divided. Authorities have jailed dissenters and broken up coup attempts.

And now, once again, Venezuela appears to be in Washington’s crosshairs.

“We have already seen it all,” said Mauricio Castillo, 28, a journalist. “It’s not that we have lost faith in the possibility of real change. But we are fed up. We cannot just stop our lives, put them on hold waiting for ‘something’ to happen.”

People shop in the central business district downtown.

Here in the capital, Venezuelans are accustomed to the enhanced martial ritual: more blockaded avenues, more troops on the streets, more barricades shielding the presidential palace of Miraflores, where Maduro launches diatribes against the “imperialist” would-be invaders.

Yet, despite the current naval buildup in the Caribbean, the Trump administration has given very mixed signals on Venezuela.

During Trump’s first presidency, his administration recognized a shadow opposition president, indicted Maduro on drug-trafficking charges and imposed draconian sanctions on the oil and financial sectors. The sanctions effectively collapsed an already shaky economy in what was once South America’s wealthiest nation.

The economic meltdown led to an exodus of some 8 million Venezuelans, almost a third of the population. Most ended up elsewhere in South America, but hundreds of thousands made it to the United States. Trump has signaled emphatically that they are not welcome, ending Biden administration-era protections and stepping up deportations.

A man fixes a Spider-Man costume at the San Jacinto popular market in Caracas.

During the presidential campaign — and since returning to the White House — Trump has repeatedly said, without evidence, that Venezuela had emptied its prisons and sent the worst offenders to the U.S.

But shortly after taking office for his current term, Trump dispatched a special envoy, Richard Grenell, to meet with Maduro, generating hopes of improved relations. Washington later granted Chevron, the U.S. oil giant, a license to continue operating in Venezuela — home to the globe’s largest oil reserves — in a move that provided much-needed hard cash for Caracas, and oil for the U.S. market.

Then, in July, the Trump administration hailed the release of 10 U.S. citizens and permanent residents being held in Venezuela in exchange for the return of hundreds of Venezuelan nationals who had been deported to El Salvador.

Meantime, the United States has regularly been sending other deportees back to Venezuela in another sign of bilateral cooperation.

“So far we’ve seen President Trump very clearly endorse a policy of engagement with Venezuela,” said Geoff Ramsey, senior fellow with the Atlantic Council, a Washington-based research group. “The U.S. is not going to invade Venezuela anytime soon.”

Janeth, 45, a teacher of a community school, poses for a portrait in Caracas.

Others say they’re not so sure, despite Trump’s stated aversion to getting involved in more wars — and the likely negative blowback in much of Latin America, where the prospect of U.S. intervention inevitably revives memories of past invasions, land grabs and support for right-wing dictators.

In the view of U.S. officials, Maduro and drug trafficking are inextricably entwined. The White House labels Maduro the head of the “Cartel of the Suns,” a smuggling network allegedly tied to the Venezuelan government and military. And Trump has reportedly directed the Pentagon to plan possible military action against Latin America cartels. (Maduro denies the drug charges, dismissing them as a U.S. disinformation campaign.)

The massive scope of the U.S. naval employment seems to reflect the policy viewpoint of hawks such as Secretary of State Marco Rubio, who has long championed a hard-line stance against Venezuela.

The buildup reportedly includes more than a half-dozen warships, including at least one submarine, and thousands of Marines and sailors. The White House says it’s meant to deter maritime narcotics trafficking, not topple Maduro.

“This is a lot of effort to put into something that’s performance, no?” said Laura Cristina Dib, who heads Venezuelan research at the Washington Office on Latin America, a research group.

1

2

1. “Faith in our people” says a billboard with President Nicolás Maduro’s face in Caracas. 2. A patriotic backpack with the Venezuelan flag colors and stars.

In response, Maduro has bolstered militia sign-ups, deployed 15,000 troops to the border with Colombia and insisted there’s “no way” U.S. forces can enter Venezuela. He scoffs at the U.S. contention that the naval buildup is an anti-smuggling effort, noting — correctly — that most cocaine is produced in neighboring Colombia and enters the United States via Mexico.

“It’s ridiculous to say they are fighting drug trafficking with nuclear submarines,” Samuel Moncada, Venezuela’s U.N. ambassador, told reporters Thursday.

By most independent accounts, Maduro likely lost last year’s election — monitors disputed his claimed victory — but his many backers are making a high-profile show of support given the U.S. saber-rattling.

1

2

1. People walk in front of a politically charged mural near Bolivar Square. The Iranian Forest vessel depicted on the right side of the mural arrived in Venezuela during fuel shortages in 2020. 2. An old military tank at Los Próceres near the Fuerte Tiuna military base in Caracas.

The government has orchestrated public sign-ups of militia members demonstrating their eagerness to fight for the socialist legacy of the late Hugo Chávez, Maduro’s mentor and predecessor in Miraflores Palace.

“None of us will be afraid when the moment comes to defend our country from foreign aggression,” said Orlando López, 54, a grandfather and proud militiaman. “It’s not justified that the president of some other country wants to impose his will.”

He rejected the notion of a pervasive sense of nervousness.

“The climate in the city is one of tranquility, of peace,” said López, who is part of a more-than-1-million civilian militia force backing Maduro.

On a recent Sunday at Santo Domingo de Guzmán Roman Catholic Church in the capital’s Baruta district, Father Leonardo Marius urged parishioners to ignore the drumbeat of war pounding the airwaves and internet. Venezuelans, he said, should focus on more basic concerns.

“In Venezuela, a half a million children don’t have enough to eat — no one talks about that,” Marius told parishioners in his sermon. “But we love the Hollywood stories of boats and aircraft carriers, the show. … ‘They are coming! They are are disembarking!’ Please! Hollywood has done a lot of damage. Let the stories be.”

An all-girls skating team skates at Los Próceres near the Fuerte Tiuna military base in Caracas.

Across town, at an upscale sports club, Javier Martín, a businessman, said the noise was hard to ignore.

“The atmosphere across the country, but especially here in Caracas, is one of fear, distress, uncertainty,” said Martín. “You see hooded officials on the streets and it makes you feel fear, like you are in a war.”

Venezuelans, he explained, live a kind of “surreal” existence, struggling to maintain their lives and families while always anticipating improvements, and changes, that never seem to come.

“We live cornered every day,” he said. “It’s not sustainable.”

What’s next?

“Everyone expects something to happen,” Martín said. “I just hope it’s positive.”

Special correspondent Mogollón reported from Caracas and Times staff writer McDonnell from Mexico City.

[ad_2]

Mery Mogollón and Patrick J. McDonnell

Source link

August 31, 2025
‘I thought I was going to die there’: Voices of migrants deported to a Salvadoran prison

[ad_1]

CARACAS, Venezuela — In March, President Trump invoked the 1798 Alien Enemies Act to declare Venezuela’s Tren de Aragua gang a foreign terrorist group.

Shortly after, the U.S. sent more than 250 Venezuelans who it said were a part of the gang to El Salvador, where they were jailed for months in one of the country’s most notorious prisons, the Terrorism Confinement Center, also known as CECOT.

Many of the men insist that they have no ties to the gang and were denied due process.

After enduring months in detention, the men were sent home in July as part of a prisoner exchange deal that included Venezuela’s release of several detained Americans.

Venezuela’s attorney general said interviews with the men revealed “systemic torture” in the Salvadoran prison, including daily beatings, rancid food and sexual abuse. The men have been adjusting to life back in Venezuela, which most fled because of their home country’s political and economic instability.

The Times photographed four of the Venezuelans — Arturo Suárez, Angelo Escalona, Frizgeralth Cornejo and Ángelo Bolívar — as they got reacquainted with their families and life outside prison.

Arturo Suárez records a song at a studio in Caracas’ Catia neighborhood. He composed the song in prison in El Salvador.

Arturo Suárez, 34

Suárez, a musician, was detained in North Carolina while gathered with friends to record a music video. Ten people were arrested that day. Inside the Salvadoran prison, he said, music was forbidden and guards beat him repeatedly for singing. But he refused to stay silent. From his cell, he wrote a song that spread from cell to cell, becoming an anthem of hope for the Venezuelans imprisoned with him.

“From Cell 31, God spoke to me,” the lyrics go in part. “He said, son, be patient, your blessing is coming soon…. Let nothing kill your faith, let nothing make you doubt because it won’t be long before you return home.”

1

2

1. Suárez holds a heart he fashioned in prison out of tortillas and toothpaste, with letters made from threads of the white shorts he wore. 2. This tattoo of a bird enabled his family to identify Suárez in videos released by the Salvadoran government.

Suárez checks his phone beneath a poster welcoming him home in Caracas.

I thought I wasn’t going to make it out of there. I thought I was going to die there.

Posters depicting Suárez and other Venezuelan migrants deported to El Salvador are seen in Caracas’ El Valle neighborhood.

Angelo Escalona, 18

Escalona had turned 18 just three months before Immigration and Customs Enforcement agents detained him in the same raid that swept up his friend Suárez, the musician. His dream was to become a DJ, and Escalona had saved up to buy equipment that he showed Suárez just before they were arrested. He had no tattoos, no criminal record and was just at the wrong place at the wrong time, he said.

When the deportation flight landed in El Salvador, he and the other Venezuelans tried to resist being taken off the plane. “We all fastened our seat belts because we’re Venezuelans — we weren’t supposed to be there” in El Salvador, he said. “But the Salvadoran police boarded the plane and started beating the people in the front.”

1

2

3

1. Angelo Escalona said that the other Venezuelan prisoners called him “El Menor,” or the minor, because at 18 he was the youngest of the deportees.
2. A poster family members held during protests demanding his release says, “Your family has not abandoned you.”
3. Escalona’s aunt displays a poster with a letter his mother wrote to him upon his release. “Son, I love you,” it says in red.

When we arrived [at the prison], they told us, ‘Welcome to the real hell — no one leaves here unless they’re dead.’

A view of Caracas’ Antímano neighborhood, where Frizgeralth Cornejo lived with his family before traveling north to the United States.

Frizgeralth Cornejo, 26

In mid-2024, Frizgeralth Cornejo made the long trek through the Darién Gap, the dangerous jungle separating Central and South America and made his way north with three friends. Hoping to obtain asylum in the United States, he had applied for an appointment with immigration officials through Customs and Border Protection’s CBP One app.

But when Cornejo, 26, presented himself at the border, officials accused him of gang affiliation because of his tattoos. Everyone else in his group was allowed through, but not him.

1

2

1. Cornejo has lunch with his mother, Austria, and his brother, Carlos, in Caracas’ Antímano neighborhood. 2. Cornejo walks with his brother, Carlos, in the neighborhood of Sabana Grande in Caracas.

Cornejo kisses his mother, Austria.

1

2

1. Cornejo shows the neck tattoo that allowed his family to identify him in videos released by the Salvadoran government. 2. U.S. authorities claimed this tattoo linked him to the Tren de Aragua gang.

I never imagined being imprisoned just for getting tattoos.

A view of the neighborhood where the family of Ángelo Bolívar lives in Valencia.

Ángelo Bolívar, 26

Bolívar was living in Texas when he was arrested by ICE agents and sent to El Salvador’s CECOT prison. His many tattoos are part of a family legacy, one he shares with his mother, Silvia Cruz. His late father was a tattoo artist. His tattoos led to his imprisonment, he said, because authorities saw them as proof of membership in the Tren de Aragua gang. He is now back in the city of Valencia, about 80 miles east of Caracas.

They said I was a gang member because of my tattoos — because I had a watch and a rosary. Even though the ICE agents had tattoos of roses and watches too.

Bolívar and his mother, Silvia Cruz, in Valencia.

[ad_2]

Kate Linthicum, Gabriela Oráa

Source link

August 20, 2025