Andrés Velásquez, one of the best-known leaders of the Venezuelan opposition, spent 16 months in hiding. Having gone underground when the crackdown began after the July 2014 elections, in which Nicolás Maduro declared himself the winner, he faced extremely restrictive and harsh living conditions: during that entire time, he was unable to set foot outside or see his family. His face reflects the consequences of that hardship: dark circles under his eyes, a voice that betrays exhaustion, and an unusual beard. “Sometimes, a police officer would give me a tip-off to warn me that they might be looking for me, and I would move to a different location,” says the 72-year-old former governor of Bolívar state.

Velásquez ventured out of hiding with extreme caution. He did so last month, following the shifts in Venezuelan politics after Nicolás Maduro’s arrest. He says he frequently scans his surroundings to see if any police are following him. But he has observed that these days, officers don’t notice him. There doesn’t appear to be an order in place to arrest him on any pretext. Therefore, encouraged by information he receives from colleagues and associates, he has decided to return to public life.

Along with the release this Sunday of highly symbolic political leaders such as Jesús Armas, Roland Carreño, and Javier Tarazona, the return from hiding of Andrés Velásquez is one of the most evident expressions of the resurgence of protest and the return of the citizen agenda. A new atmosphere is beginning to emerge in Venezuela after the U.S. military intervention that led to the arrest of Nicolás Maduro. In addition to Velásquez, activist Delsa Solórzano also emerged from hiding. However, the re-arrest of opposition member Juan Pablo Guanipa just hours after Velásquez’s release has dampened expectations for this new phase.

Prominent political prisoners recently released, such as Carlos Julio Rojas and Nicmer Evans, have taken to the streets to stand with the families of those still detained. Vigils continue at prisons throughout the country. Students from the Central University of Venezuela have organized several protests and, on one occasion, directly confronted Delcy Rodríguez, something unthinkable just over a month ago. Leaders like Alfredo Ramos and Andrea Tavares have also returned to the streets. Even the amnesty bill presented by the regime for political prisoners has been harshly criticized by the opposition for the Chavista regime’s failure to take responsibility.

Andrés Velásquez is encouraged by the recent surge in civic engagement. He hopes to soon organize a press conference with other members of the Venezuelan opposition who, until recently, were being persecuted. For him, opposition unity must be a priority at this time. He doesn’t have much faith in the amnesty bill. He notes that he has begun working on verifying the status of released political prisoners and those still awaiting release, providing support to their families. He wants to be part of the efforts to restore democracy in Venezuela. “I felt it was a good time to come forward and raise this challenge,” he tells EL PAÍS.

A classic figure in Venezuelan politics, Velásquez is an electrical technician by training and a union leader who emerged from the workers’ circles of the national steel industry, which became a benchmark in the country. He was a presidential candidate in 1993, has served as governor and deputy on several occasions, and has been an opponent of Chavismo since it came to power. He leads the Radical Cause, a reform-oriented left-wing party that is part of the Unitary Platform, and has always been distinguished by his combative style and Jacobin rhetoric against corruption.

The opposition leader doesn’t believe the country is on the verge of a democratic transition, although he does have expectations given the current political climate. “I feel like a huge portal has opened, but we are still very far from a transition. Those who are governing are the same people. Delcy Rodríguez doesn’t generate stability; on the contrary, she has been a jailer for the regime and bears direct responsibility for the repression of these past years,” he points out. Velásquez says he endorses the strategy outlined for Venezuela by U.S. Secretary of State Marco Rubio—stabilization, recovery, and transition—as a roadmap for achieving democracy. “We need to put a timeline on that plan,” he warns.

The process initiated after January 3 could lead to an electoral agreement negotiated with Chavismo. Faced with this possibility, the political leader is convinced: “If it enters the negotiating table as a serious formula for restoring democracy and popular sovereignty in the country, I would be willing to consider holding new elections. Without hesitation,” he affirms.

The statement may be controversial, but he explains it: “I am one of those who support the elections of July 28, 2024, and I have always been in favor of not turning the page. But, realistically, if we enter into a process in which even the U.S. administration gets involved to offer guarantees and ensure an honest election, I am not afraid to participate,” he reflects. His candidate would be María Corina Machado. “What we are experiencing has to end in a democracy. That is what we want in Venezuela: not a cosmetic change or to remain like this indefinitely,” he concludes.

Velásquez is clear that one of the risks of the current situation is that Donald Trump’s agenda will weaken over time, allowing the Chavista leadership to navigate the situation. “It’s a risk we must take. We accept it clearly,” he says. He doesn’t have much faith in the political overtures being promoted by Delcy Rodríguez and the Chavista leadership. However, he acknowledges that the climate of persecution, which had become chronic, has eased. “I feel it firsthand: the pressure has lessened. Since I went out into the street, initially very wary, I could see that the atmosphere of political and police persecution has softened.”

He prefers not to dwell too much on collateral assessments of the U.S. military attack that made Maduro’s arrest possible and violated national defense lines. “It’s a capture, a specific operation to remove an illegitimate leader accused of international crimes from power. There was no alternative. It’s a consequence of the circumstances. The rest can be debated later.”

Sign up for our weekly newsletter to get more English-language news coverage from EL PAÍS USA Edition

In South Florida, home to most members of the Venezuelan diaspora in the United States, a question that recently seemed unthinkable is now being asked: “What if we go back?”

The capture of Nicolás Maduro on January 3, 2026, has shaken not only Venezuelan politics, but also the daily lives of thousands of migrants from that country who have embraced the United States as their permanent home. Now, almost a month after the fall of Maduro, for the first time in a long time, the idea of returning is beginning to feel like a real possibility, albeit one that’s still fraught with uncertainty.

Edgar Simón Rodríguez has been in the United States for seven years. He arrived after “fleeing the Chavista regime” — referring to the ruling United Socialist Party of Venezuela (PSUV) — and has since worked actively in the Venezuelan opposition from exile. He’s the organizing coordinator for Vente Venezuela in the United States, the political party led by María Corina Machado. He didn’t sleep a wink on the morning of January 3.

“I was notified at 2 a.m. or 3 a.m. that they were bombing Caracas. I made myself coffee because I knew I wasn’t going to sleep anymore,” he recalls. In the middle of the night, he met with part of the political team. The news of Maduro’s capture was, for him, “a fundamental step” that marks the beginning of a transition, which is “still fragile, but inevitable.”

“Maduro’s arrest is a key step. It marks the beginning of a process that must end in the complete liberation of the country,” he affirms. However, he speaks cautiously. He knows that the transition will be complex and that the “repressive apparatus of Chavismo” remains active. That’s why, even though his desire is to return to his home country, he hasn’t set a date yet.

“I would return without hesitation if the regime falls completely and the repressive agencies are dismantled. I’m not thinking about [political] positions; I’m thinking about a project to reinstitutionalize the country,” he explains.

Jorge Andrés Galicia, a 30-year-old Venezuelan lawyer, who has been in exile since 2018, shares a similar reflection. He lives in Miami and arrived in the United States alone, fleeing political persecution. For him, January 3 was a mixture of anguish, faith and hope.

“I received calls from my mother and my girlfriend, saying that they could hear bombings and planes flying over Caracas. I turned on the news and started praying to God,” he recounts. When he saw Donald Trump’s announcement confirming Maduro’s capture, he found it hard to believe. “When I confirmed it was true, I felt that we were finally witnessing an act of justice in our lives.”

Galicia also wants to return, but not at any cost. “As long as people don’t feel safe and there aren’t real changes on the ground, I won’t return. Venezuela still isn’t a free country,” he says.

Chavismo in transition: the red line

Despite feeling hopeful, both Simón and Galicia agree on a key point: so long as the Chavistas remain part of the power structure, Venezuela won’t be free.

The U.S. is still committed to collaborating with the government of Delcy Rodríguez, who became the interim president of the South American country following Maduro’s capture. Last week, U.S. Secretary of State Marco Rubio described the relationship between the U.S. and Rodríguez as “respectful and productive,” after warning that Washington is prepared to use force again in Venezuela if the acting president doesn’t cooperate sufficiently.

The United States’ plan for Venezuela — which could be a process that takes years, according to the Trump administration — is divided into three phases: the first will focus on restoring the country’s infrastructure, including the oil sector; the second, on bolstering economic activity; and, finally, the third will involve a transition to democratic elections.

On Thursday, January 29, Venezuela’s National Assembly unanimously approved a new hydrocarbons law, thus opening the oil sector to privatization — a crucial initial step toward reform.

“We understand that there are phases in a transition, but we’re concerned that it’s slowing down. It involves human lives, political prisoners and families who are waiting,” says Simón, who has already stated that he won’t return until “the change is complete.”

For his part, Galicia maintains that “until the Chavista regime is completely removed from institutions, Venezuela won’t have a genuine democracy. I wouldn’t return before then,” he affirms, also ruling out any possibility of moving for the time being.

Driven out by Trump’s immigration crackdown

Despite the climate of expectation, finding Venezuelans with concrete plans to return to their country isn’t easy. Many prefer not to give their names to EL PAÍS: the fear of reprisals still weighs heavily, even outside the country.

At the Miami airport, Carlos (whose name has been changed) waits for his flight to Santo Domingo, the capital of the Dominican Republic. From there, he will travel on to Venezuela. He carries a backpack, a small suitcase and a folder with documents.

“I was an engineer in Venezuela,” he says in a low voice. “Here, [in the U.S.], I’ve done everything: Uber, plumbing, electrical work… whatever pops up.”

The decision to leave hasn’t been easy. “It makes me very sad to leave the United States, because this country gave me an opportunity. But I no longer feel safe. I feel like I’m being persecuted,” he explains, while confessing that “what’s happening in Venezuela” has been the deciding factor in making this decision.

But that wasn’t all: U.S. President Donald Trump’s immigration policies also pushed him to leave. He was living legally in the U.S. with Temporary Protected Status (TPS), which the White House canceled. That’s why, he admits, he has “nothing left to do” in this country.

“That day, January 3rd, I saw a glimmer of hope. I thought, ‘If not now, when?’”

In Venezuela, he hopes to work on infrastructure reconstruction projects. He doesn’t know how much he’ll earn or what the adjustment will be like, but he says that he “feels at peace” with his decision.

Francisco, a 35-year-old man who also doesn’t want to be identified by his real name, shares that same feeling. He arrived in the U.S. five years ago and became a father for the first time a few months ago. Even so, he plans to leave the country in May.

“This is no longer the country that welcomed me. I’m grateful for everything, but I no longer feel safe,” he explains.

Francisco — who acknowledges that “if nothing had happened in Venezuela” he probably would have stayed in the United States without documents — speaks of fear and uncertainty. But he also admits to feeling “a sense of nostalgia that never went away.”

The debate about returning isn’t just an emotional one. It’s starting to be reflected in the South Florida real estate market. Gisela Rojas, from Venezuela, says that she experiences it “daily” as head of the real estate company The Caissa Group.

“There’s definitely an increase in inquiries,” she explains. “Clients who bought years ago are now calling to sell or, at least, to find out how much their house is worth today, because they’re considering leaving,” she describes, emphasizing that “this isn’t just a passing phenomenon.”

“For the first time in years, the idea of returning [to Venezuela] is no longer just a wish,” she adds. “For many, it’s starting to become a plan.”

Sign up for our weekly newsletter to get more English-language news coverage from EL PAÍS USA Edition

The removal of Nicolás Maduro from the presidency by U.S. Delta Force soldiers compelled the small global community of Venezuela experts to almost immediately reassess the new power map. Few are better equipped to do so than Javier Corrales (born in Puerto Rico 59 years ago to Cuban parents in exile), who has been studying the DNA of the Bolivarian Revolution for more than two decades. In 2006, he published the now-canonical article “Hugo Boss” in Foreign Policy, in which he identified the key characteristics of Hugo Chávez as a singular and effective autocrat. There, he also anticipated the logic of gradual autocratization, one of the main contemporary enemies of democracy in the world, including in the United States. Since then, Corrales has offered some of the most insightful analyses explaining the mutations of Chavismo under Chávez and Maduro.

In his book Dragon in the Tropics, co-authored with Michael Penfold, he laid out how oil was both Chavismo’s greatest strength and its main vulnerability. Today, once again, oil appears as the decisive factor in the country’s direction, to the point of aligning — at least tactically — interim president Delcy Rodríguez, Maduro’s successor, with Donald Trump, the regime’s historical enemy. Meanwhile, María Corina Machado, the opposition leader, is looking for ways to influence a game from which she has been publicly sidelined. Trump says he admires Machado, but he is satisfied with Rodríguez’s work and obedience.

The irony is brutal: in the name of a political solution, Venezuela has surrendered its sovereignty and placed the fate of its democratic struggle, at least for now, in Trump’s hands. From that moment on, the country’s democratic aspirations became tied — for better or for worse — to the calculations, whims, and limitations of the Republican president, as well as to the growing turbulence of U.S. domestic politics.

Question. Maduro’s departure was abrupt and caused by external factors. From the perspective of the gradual autocratization that you have worked on so extensively, what is the most important thing that did not fall along with Maduro?

Answer. The big surprise was discovering that they took away the dictator, but the government remained: the cabinet, the state apparatus, and the party. There are very few cases of interventions of this kind where something like this happens, and then the United States makes peace with that structure. There’s talk of a new “normalization” and concessions to the United States, but the concessions being made aren’t democratizing: they’re investments. Period. That’s why it’s difficult to use historical evidence to predict what might happen. There are very few comparable precedents.

Q. Chavismo was a laboratory for autocratization. Is it plausible to think of a gradual exit from authoritarianism under the current conditions, a phased transition, led or at least tolerated by its own Chavista elites, as Marco Rubio’s plan seems to suggest?

A. Completely plausible. Many democratic transitions happen from within. The founders of the regime are removed, and people from within the system itself come in and conclude that the only way to save themselves, their party, and their project is through gradual liberalization. That happened in Spain after Franco. Also in the Soviet Union with Gorbachev. And, in a way, in Venezuela after [Marcos] Pérez Jiménez: the military took power and quickly organized a transition. This phased transition is possible.

Q. If that scenario gains traction, what real incentives would the Chavista elites have today to cede power without exposing themselves to political or judicial retribution?

A. The first incentive would have to come from outside. These transitions usually occur when international actors demand political liberalization. That’s why it’s key to see if Washington will impose those demands. If it doesn’t, the incentives fail. The second is internal: that the government concludes it’s sinking and that it’s better to negotiate a way out before it’s too late. We don’t know how deep the wound left by Maduro’s removal was. If it generated a sense of crisis, a group within Chavismo might emerge that says: we’re in the final stage and we have to negotiate our salvation. There’s also a factor in its favor: the country hasn’t erupted into instability. When there’s chaos, the hardliners usually prevail and any liberalization is canceled. Since that hasn’t happened, perhaps Chavismo feels more secure in considering a political opening. Having said all that, today I don’t see any clear incentives: neither external nor internal.

Q. The liberalization that is being hinted at seems very much controlled by the Chavista hierarchy. And there are figures like Diosdado Cabello, who negotiate and at the same time exert control. The release of political prisoners has been minimal, despite the amnesty announcement. How do you interpret that?

A. It’s important to make distinctions. What has happened with the prisoners is a humanitarian achievement, and it must be recognized as such. But it’s not an achievement of democratization. Even if the prisons were emptied, that wouldn’t mean the repressive system is being dismantled. To speak of liberalization, there would have to be a process of dismantling the coercive apparatus, and that’s not happening. The second point is the political veto. In dictatorships, certain actors are banned. In Venezuela, María Corina Machado and her party remain completely banned. At some point, that has to change: they have to sit down and talk with them. That happened in Spain, when Franco’s regime had to talk with the PCE (Communist Party of Spain). It happened in Chile, when Pinochet’s regime had to negotiate with socialists and Christian Democrats. We don’t see any of that here. That’s why there are very few signs of a democratic transition underway.

Q. As an observer of these processes, beyond cold analysis, what feeling does all this leave you with?

A. The feeling is that Chavismo believes it’s possible to coexist with the United States without ceasing to be authoritarian. Something similar to a “Vietnamization.” Vietnam went from a full-blown war with the United States to normalization: economic liberalization, but the Communist Party remained in power and maintained good relations with Washington. I think that’s one of the moves Delcy Rodríguez is considering: doing the bare minimum politically and a lot economically and commercially. In Vietnam, there were more concessions, including the release of American prisoners, but the general model is the same: the same party continues to govern and normalizes relations.

Q. It’s even beneficial for Chavismo.

A. To a certain extent, yes. Venezuela hasn’t been liberated. Who they’ve really liberated is Delcy Rodríguez from Maduro’s brutality. If the United States were demanding profound political reforms, it would be different.

Q. In retrospect, was Maduro expendable within the system or did he fulfill a glue-like function that no one can replace?

A. Everything indicates that Delcy and Jorge Rodríguez had been preparing for this. Maduro didn’t govern as a one-man dictator. He created a kind of confederation of relatively autonomous power zones. This meant the system wasn’t exclusively dependent on him. Removing that central hub creates instability, but as long as the confederations remain intact and someone quickly takes control, the system can continue to function. If this had happened under Chávez, whose government was much more personalistic, the collapse would have been greater. The other unknown was whether the rest of Chavismo would accept Delcy and Jorge Rodríguez as heirs. That wasn’t automatic, but it seems to be happening. And with that, the system is being rebuilt. Maduro prevented them from moving forward in certain directions.

Q. [Delcy] Rodríguez has been the key figure in shaping the economic framework in recent years. Many complaints concerned the sanctions and the limitations placed on progress. Lifting the sanctions will allow the oil sector to open up.

A. Delcy understands that economic reforms are necessary, along with closer ties to the United States and a reduction in inefficient dependence on Russia. Furthermore, this White House doesn’t seem to have particularly stringent human rights requirements. That makes things easier.

Q. In this post-Maduro Chavismo, do you see real cracks or rather resilience?

A. I’ll say it again: the cracks will depend on the demands of the United States. If Washington simply opens up the oil sector and moves forward, there won’t be any cracks. I don’t think anyone within Chavismo would oppose major oil deals with the United States. That was already happening under Chávez. But if the United States starts demanding elections, dismantling the SEBIN (Bolivarian National Intelligence Service), combating drug trafficking, or other reforms of that kind, cracks could appear that compromise the power of many actors within Chavismo. And we also have to see what happens if María Corina Machado or her party regain some influence, or if social protests resurface. We’re already seeing some, although they’re still very contained. If there were a new explosion, that could also open up cracks.

Q. What is Delcy Rodríguez’s role today? Is she managing a retreat, like Gorbachev or [former Spanish prime minister Adolfo] Suárez, or is she the architect of a new form of post-personalist control, a third wave of Chavismo?

A. I think Delcy Rodríguez has a dual personality. In public, she represents ideological dogmatism and revolutionary radicalism. But behind closed doors, she seems capable of negotiating with anyone. She achieved something extraordinary: talking with the United States before and after Maduro’s departure. We don’t know what was said, but she must have done something to convince Washington that she was the right person to stay and govern. That style has brought her enormous benefits. We have to acknowledge that.

Q. It is known that she has the backing of oilmen close to Trump and of [presidential envoy] Richard Grenell. That has carried a lot of weight. And there are stories — not yet corroborated — about why María Corina Machado did not have Trump’s support after Maduro’s removal.

A. Continuing with this delicate matter, one might even wonder if Delcy is not becoming a kind of double agent, supplying information to the United States, even about Cuba.

Q. How do you interpret the central paradox; Maduro’s military removal without a commitment from Washington to nation-building or democratization?

A. That fits perfectly with Trump. He has always detested the concept of nation-building. National reconstruction is expensive: in troops, technicians, investments, and long-term commitments. Trump wanted to do it in the cheapest way possible, almost like a DOGE model: eliminate the dictator and not rebuild the state.

Q. In an article you explained that Maduro had built rings of interests that protected him from falling: a shield. He fell, but the shield is still there and now protects Rodríguez.

A. Delcy even has an additional shield: the backing of the United States. That’s a very strong form of international legitimacy. Is it conditional? Yes, but for now that’s enormous political capital.

Q. In this context, what type of opposition leadership is more effective: one that seeks rapid ruptures or one that dismantles the system step by step?

A. There isn’t a single answer. There are times when prudence is advisable and others when it’s necessary to make noise and generate pressure. More than choosing a type of strategy, what’s important is having actors with political savvy to know when to hold back and when to act.

Q. What are the risks of having an opposition outside the core decision-making body, as is happening now?

A. The risk is that Venezuela will remain a dictatorship. There is evidence that the opposition represents at least 70% of popular sentiment. If the opposition continues to be excluded, the only way to govern is through repression. There is no possibility of openness without addressing the desires of the majority of Venezuelans.

Q. You said something key: we don’t know who is working for whom. Whether it’s the United States for Delcy or Delcy for the United States. And one of the conditions could very well have been to completely exclude María Corina Machado.

A. Many analyses focus on whether or not María Corina deserved to be included. But another explanation is simpler: that was Chavismo’s condition. Something like: you want investments and Maduro’s departure, perfect, but don’t talk to María Corina Machado. It’s comparable to [South Africa’s] apartheid [regime] saying: we’ll negotiate, but never with Mandela. That was Chavismo’s hard line, and it’s the one the White House ended up accepting.

Q. Ironic.

A. Yes. It has been speculated that Trump read her resume and rejected her. Perhaps. But the other explanation is that there was an explicit political agreement: economic openness yes, María Corina, no.

Q. How do you view María Corina Machado today after Maduro’s departure?

A. I have enormous admiration for her performance between 2023 and 2025. What she did to confront such a biased election is epic. The problem is what happens afterward, when she is left politically orphaned and a new administration in the United States actually does something for the first time. I think her mistake was not distinguishing between gratitude and subservience. She could have expressed gratitude without being overly familiar. I also understand that: she was desperate and had been abandoned by the international community.

Q. She created enormous political capital by mobilizing the vote. Can that capital be translated into a transition like the current one, or are there structural limitations?

A. She needs to do something she has always struggled with: think about a broad opposition coalition. Depersonalize the movement. For Chavismo, she is an extremely problematic figure. If she manages to dilute her centrality without losing influence, she can protect her political capital. In Chile, the socialists understood they were unacceptable to Pinochetism and relied on the Christian Democrats during the transition. It’s not a bad model to consider now.

Q. Given Trump’s stark realism and transactional nature, what should the opposition do to avoid becoming trapped in a dependency on Washington?

A. It must strongly denounce its exclusion and the lack of transparency in the agreements with the Rodríguez siblings. But it must also demonstrate pragmatism and a capacity for deradicalization. The opposition has to accept that there will be concessions. There are people prepared for that, but it needs to be shown. Transitional justice is key: it’s not about revenge, but about creating incentives for Chavismo to become a competitive political party. This idea is not foreign to a large part of the opposition.

Q. Recently, Venezuelan economist Ricardo Hausmann raised in an interview the possibility of confronting Trump if he obstructs the democratic transition. Is this a realistic strategy, or a risk that could further isolate the opposition?

A. It’s always risky to confront Trump. But something very sad has happened here for the Venezuelan democratic cause: it has lost international admiration because it is perceived as too willing to accept U.S. imperialism. Democratic forces need to shed that image, because when a democratic cause is associated with capitalist imperialism, it loses its soft power. That’s what happened to the Cuban opposition with Fidel Castro, and it still hasn’t recovered. One of the great virtues of the Venezuelan democratic movement was its moral legitimacy, its ability to garner international support. Today, with Trump practically holding the Venezuelan problem hostage, it would be healthy for democratic forces to give clear signals that they do not endorse this hijacking.

It is essential that Venezuelan democratic forces speak clearly about sovereignty. International cooperation does not mean tutelage or reconquest. Venezuela has a very strong historical tradition of defending its autonomy against empires. This was the case for decades, until Chávez came along and subordinated the country to other empires. Recovering that tradition is of utmost importance.

Q. Given that context, what advice would you give the opposition today to regain agency in such an adverse situation?

A. The only thing they can do now is publicly condemn the path being taken: a Latin American dictatorship doing business behind closed doors with U.S. economic interests. That hasn’t been seen since the era of the banana republics.

Q. Let’s play with the idea that Venezuela is improving economically and socially. Beyond elections, what three institutional indicators would you observe in five years to gauge if the country has truly emerged from authoritarianism or merely mutated?

A. First, an electoral system reform accompanied by a call for elections. That is vital. Second, the opening of formal talks with the opposition on specific institutional reforms, as happened in Mexico when the PRI began reforming state institutions alongside the opposition. And third, a reform of the coercive system. That was key in Panama after Noriega and in Colombia with Plan Colombia. It also has to happen in Venezuela.

Q. What is the greatest risk facing the opposition today? And what would you say to María Corina Machado and Edmundo González Urrutia?

A. The usual story: rapidly deflating after reaching a peak of influence without actually gaining power. It’s happened to all opposition leaders. They must occupy any available space of power, however small it may seem. It’s better to have crumbs than an empty plate.

Q. This seems unlikely, but if you were to speak with Delcy Rodríguez today, what would you say to her, thinking about the well-being of the country?

A. They are not in a “govern or disappear” situation. Chavismo can transform itself into a competitive political party. There are many precedents, from Paraguay to Panama. As long as they remain in power as they are, they will depend on repression and now also on Washington. Perhaps it would be better to rely on their electoral capacity, something that can be negotiated with the opposition.

Q. Do you see the risk of a partially integrated opposition, but without real power, that ends up serving as a symbolic alibi for a post-Maduro regime?

A. That argument is used to dismiss any pragmatism. But there are times when being inside the system gives you more influence than being outside. If getting in means sacrificing essential principles, that’s bad. But if not, you can achieve more from within than from without.

Q. Where do you draw the red line between political realism and ethical capitulation?

A. Two things are unacceptable: a regime that invests in repressing its citizens and the blocking of electoral processes.

Q. If in 10 years Venezuela is more stable and less violent, but is still built on opaque pacts, will that be a victory or an outstanding issue?

A. Transparency is better than opacity, but privacy, understood as discretion and even secret negotiation, is also necessary. In highly polarized societies, this allows political actors to compromise without public humiliation. If these agreements aim for coexistence and result in greater freedom for Venezuelans, privacy can serve a greater good. Secret agreements to divide benefits are a very different matter. Privacy must be used in a very limited and strict way. In the long term, transparency must always be the objective.