Venezuela After Maduro: When Coercion Meets Reality

Three weeks have passed since US forces abducted Venezuelan President Nicolas Maduro from his own soil—an operation that shocked international observers and marked the most direct American military intervention in Latin America in decades. Yet what emerges isn't the clear-cut regime change many expected, but something far more complex: a strategy of remote control that's testing the limits of coercion in the modern world.

The numbers tell part of the story. $2 billion worth of Venezuelan crude sits ready for export under a new US-controlled arrangement. $500 million in oil sales have already been completed, with Venezuela receiving $300 million in proceeds. Meanwhile, Maduro awaits trial in New York on drug trafficking charges while his former deputy, Delcy Rodriguez, now serves as interim president under the watchful eye of American warships still positioned off Venezuela's coast.

The Gun-to-the-Head Strategy

What's unfolding in Venezuela represents a new model of American intervention—one that prioritizes economic extraction over political transformation. Donald Trump initially promised to "run" Venezuela but has since focused almost exclusively on oil access, downplaying traditional opposition involvement in favor of working directly with the existing power structure.

"The Venezuelan government is operating with a gun to its head," explains Francesca Emanuele from the Center for Economic and Policy Research. This isn't hyperbole—it's the deliberate foundation of Trump's approach. The massive US military presence remains deployed, sanctions stay in place, and the threat of renewed force hangs over every decision made in Caracas.

The strategy represents what researchers call "remote coercion"—forcing compliance through fear rather than attempting to build new institutions. It's governance by intimidation, where Venezuelan leaders must constantly calculate whether their next move might trigger another American intervention.

Oil Dreams Meet Market Reality

Trump's vision extends far beyond the current oil sales. He's invited 17 oil companies to the White House, promising investment opportunities worth "at least 100 billion dollars" in Venezuela's vast petroleum reserves. The country's parliament has even begun debating changes to hydrocarbon laws to accommodate foreign investment.

But the oil industry's response has been notably cautious. Even in a friendly White House meeting, executives outlined extensive reforms needed before Venezuela becomes truly investable. The country's infrastructure has deteriorated after years of sanctions and mismanagement. Legal frameworks remain unclear. And the ever-present threat of renewed political upheaval makes long-term planning nearly impossible.

This creates what analysts call a "central contradiction" in Trump's approach: the coercive model designed to secure control may actually undermine the stable investment climate needed to extract oil at scale. Companies want predictability, not a country operating under constant threat of military intervention.

The Silence of Survival

In Caracas, the response has been remarkably muted. The streets remain "tense but calm," with an unusual presence of colectivos—pro-government paramilitary groups—and elite military counter-intelligence units. It's a show of force designed to prevent any political opening while the government navigates American pressure.

More telling is what isn't being said. Venezuela's leadership, typically vocal in denouncing "US imperialism," has largely bitten its tongue. Rodriguez has shifted from early defiance to conciliation, even reshuffling her cabinet to remove longtime American targets like Alex Saab. When Trump claimed Venezuela would stop supporting Cuba, the foreign ministry's response carefully avoided any direct reference to future oil shipments.

This calculated restraint reflects a government walking a tightrope. Push back too hard, and risk another American intervention. Comply too openly, and face potential domestic backlash from supporters who've spent years hearing anti-American rhetoric.

Fault Lines in the Foundation

The apparent stability shouldn't be mistaken for genuine calm. Venezuela's power structure remains fractured along familiar lines: the civilian Rodriguez siblings, the military under Defense Minister Padrino Lopez, and Interior Minister Diosdado Cabello, who controls intelligence and paramilitary networks.

Crucially, both Padrino and Cabello remain under US indictment with bounties on their heads—the same legal pressure that ultimately led to Maduro's downfall. They're cooperating for now, but their fundamental interests could diverge quickly if they perceive threats to their own survival.

Reports suggest American officials had been in contact with Venezuelan leaders before Maduro's abduction, though the extent of any cooperation remains unclear. The Guardian reported that Rodriguez had previously assured US officials she would cooperate in the event of Maduro's removal, while Reuters indicated contacts with Cabello as well.

These revelations fuel suspicions in Caracas about who can be trusted—a dangerous dynamic in a system built on personal loyalty and patronage networks.

The Broader Implications

Venezuela's situation reflects larger questions about American power in the 21st century. Traditional regime change operations—Iraq, Libya, Afghanistan—proved costly and ultimately unsuccessful. Trump's approach attempts to achieve American objectives without the burden of nation-building or democratic legitimacy.

But this model faces its own constraints. International law experts widely condemn the operation as a violation of sovereignty. Regional allies express private concerns about precedent. And the economic objectives that drive the strategy may prove incompatible with the coercive methods used to achieve them.

The oil market, meanwhile, watches nervously. Venezuela holds the world's largest proven petroleum reserves, but accessing them requires stability and predictability—qualities that seem unlikely under a system of permanent coercion.