Washington is now in charge of Venezuela
Forty-five days after U.S. forces captured Nicolás Maduro, General Francis Donovan arrived in Caracas to meet with Venezuela's interim leadership — a visit that speaks less to diplomacy between equals than to the quiet consolidation of a new order. History has seen this pattern before: the moment of rupture passes, and what follows is the patient work of binding a nation's future to the interests of the power that made the rupture possible. Venezuela, sitting atop the world's largest proven oil reserves, now navigates a transition in which its most valuable inheritance is managed from afar, and its path to democracy runs through Washington's approval.
- A U.S. military commander walking into Caracas for security talks is not a routine visit — it is a signal that American authority over Venezuela's transition is being exercised openly and without apology.
- Oil sanctions have been dismantled at speed, with six international petroleum companies now licensed to operate in Venezuela while all revenues flow into U.S. Treasury-designated accounts held in Qatar — an arrangement that places Venezuela's economic lifeline under foreign control.
- Families of political prisoners have begun hunger strikes, exposing the gap between the interim government's promises of amnesty and the slow, uncertain reality facing those still detained.
- Interim president Delcy Rodríguez publicly denies that Washington runs Venezuela, yet her government's structural reforms to oil and gas law, its dependence on U.S. support, and the parade of American officials through Caracas tell a more complicated story.
- Trump's three-phase stabilization plan — security, economic recovery, democratic transition — is moving forward, but the sequencing ensures that Venezuela's sovereignty remains conditional on its alignment with American interests at every step.
General Francis Donovan, head of U.S. Southern Command, arrived in Caracas on a clear Wednesday morning — the latest in a series of senior American officials to visit Venezuela since U.S. forces captured Nicolás Maduro forty-five days ago. His meetings with interim president Delcy Rodríguez, Defense Minister Vladimir Padrino, and Interior Minister Diosdado Cabello were framed around security assessment and the implementation of President Trump's three-phase plan: stabilization, economic recovery, and eventual democratic elections.
Donovan was not alone in making this journey. Energy Secretary Chris Wright and CIA Director John Ratcliffe had already visited, and Trump himself has floated the idea of traveling to Caracas. The president has spoken approvingly of Rodríguez as someone Washington can work with — a sharp departure from his posture toward her predecessor — while also stating plainly that Maduro's removal means the United States is now in charge. Rodríguez has pushed back on that characterization publicly, even as her government's decisions suggest a different reality.
That reality is most visible in Venezuela's oil sector. The Trump administration declared the oil embargo effectively over last week, and on the day of Donovan's arrival, Washington issued a new general license expanding the number of authorized international petroleum companies from five to six, adding France's Maurel & Prom to BP, Chevron, Eni, Repsol, and Shell. All tax and royalty revenues from these operations flow into accounts designated by the U.S. Treasury, currently held in Qatar — a structural arrangement that ties Venezuela's economic future directly to American oversight.
Meanwhile, the interim government's promises to its domestic constituencies remain under strain. Rodríguez has committed to free elections and an amnesty law for political prisoners, but families of detainees have begun hunger strikes, demanding action rather than assurances. The tension between these obligations and Venezuela's deepening dependence on American approval defines the fragile character of this transition — one in which General Donovan's presence under blue Caracas skies was itself a quiet declaration of who holds the terms.
General Francis Donovan arrived in Caracas on a Wednesday morning under clear skies, his visit marking another high-level American military presence in Venezuela just forty-five days after U.S. forces had bombed the capital and captured former president Nicolás Maduro. The head of U.S. Southern Command—the military authority overseeing Central America, South America, and portions of the Atlantic and Pacific oceans plus the Caribbean—came to assess security conditions with Venezuela's interim government led by Delcy Rodríguez, the former vice president under Maduro who now holds the presidency.
Donovan's meetings included Rodríguez, Defense Minister Vladimir Padrino, and Interior Minister Diosdado Cabello. The stated purpose was straightforward: evaluate security, ensure implementation of President Trump's three-phase plan for Venezuela, and move toward alignment with American interests. That three-phase roadmap, unveiled by Secretary of State Marco Rubio after Maduro's fall, envisions stabilization first, then economic recovery, followed by a transition to democracy through free elections. The immediate focus of these conversations, according to the U.S. Embassy, centered on stabilizing the country.
Donovan was not the first senior Trump administration official to make this journey. Energy Secretary Chris Wright had visited, as had CIA Director John Ratcliffe. Trump himself has suggested he may travel to Caracas, though no date has been set. The president has spoken warmly of Rodríguez, saying she is someone Washington can work with—a striking contrast to his rhetoric toward her predecessor. Yet Trump has also stated, with characteristic directness, that the removal of Maduro means Washington is now in charge of Venezuela, a claim Rodríguez has publicly denied even as her government's actions suggest otherwise.
The practical reality is visible in Venezuela's oil sector, which sits atop the world's largest proven reserves. The interim government has handed control of petroleum exports and revenues to American interests while rushing through structural reforms to the oil and gas laws, creating conditions favorable to private foreign investors, particularly American ones. Last week, the Trump administration declared the oil embargo against Venezuela effectively terminated. On the same day as Donovan's arrival, Washington announced a new general license—50A—that expanded from five to six the number of international petroleum companies authorized to operate there. BP, Chevron, Eni, Repsol, and Shell were joined by France's Maurel & Prom. These companies can now conduct transactions related to Venezuelan oil and gas operations under specific conditions, with all tax and royalty payments flowing into accounts designated by the U.S. Treasury Department, currently held in Qatar.
The speed of these changes reflects the centrality of oil to Trump's Venezuela strategy. By opening the sector to American capital and expertise, the administration aims to revive production and secure revenues that will fund the interim government's operations and, theoretically, its transition to democracy. Yet this arrangement also binds Venezuela's economic future tightly to American approval and control. Rodríguez has committed to organizing free elections, and her government has promised an amnesty law that could release political prisoners—families of detainees have begun hunger strikes demanding their relatives' freedom. But these commitments exist in tension with the reality that Venezuela's most valuable resource is now effectively managed by Washington, and the interim government's survival depends on maintaining American support.
Donovan's visit, then, was less about assessing an independent security situation and more about ensuring that the machinery of American influence—military, economic, and political—continues to function smoothly. The general's presence in Caracas, smiling under blue skies, was itself a message: the transition is proceeding as Washington intends, and the military dimension of that transition remains firmly in American hands.
Citações Notáveis
The removal of Maduro means Washington is now in charge of Venezuela— President Donald Trump
She is someone Washington can work with— President Donald Trump, on Delcy Rodríguez
A Conversa do Hearth Outra perspectiva sobre a história
Why does a U.S. military commander need to visit Venezuela at all? Isn't there an embassy for that?
The embassy handles diplomacy. A general from Southern Command is there to assess military readiness, coordinate with Venezuelan armed forces, and ensure the security apparatus aligns with American objectives. It's about embedding American military oversight into the transition.
What does "stabilization" actually mean in this context?
It means preventing the collapse of state institutions, controlling the military so it doesn't splinter into factions, and ensuring the interim government can maintain order while the oil sector is restructured. Without stability, the economic plan falls apart.
The source mentions oil revenues going to accounts in Qatar. Why Qatar, not the U.S.?
Qatar is neutral territory, a financial hub. It keeps the money technically outside direct American control while ensuring the U.S. Treasury Department designates where it goes. It's a layer of plausible distance.
Delcy Rodríguez denies that Washington is in charge. Do you believe her?
Her words and her actions are telling different stories. She's promised elections and prisoner releases to her domestic audience, but she's also handing over oil control and meeting with American generals. She's managing two audiences with contradictory expectations.
What happens if the interim government tries to resist American pressure?
It loses access to oil revenues, military support, and international legitimacy. The U.S. has already shown it will use force—Maduro's capture proved that. Rodríguez knows the cost of defiance.
Are the political prisoners a real concern or just a distraction?
They're real. Families are hunger-striking. But they're also a problem for the interim government—releasing them could anger the military figures who detained them, like Diosdado Cabello, who's still in the cabinet. Rodríguez is caught between promises and the people she needs to keep the government functioning.