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This is not the time for over-analyzing every misstep, real or imagined, by the Bolivarian government. It is a time to relentlessly denounce the kidnapping of a president and a legislator.
Two days before his kidnapping, President Nicolás Maduro gave an interview to Spanish writer Ignacio Ramonet and explained that the war on Venezuela is a cognitive one, “because the war is for the brain, the brain handles emotions and handles concepts.”
The term cognitive war is relatively new, and it sheds light on recent discourse around Venezuela. One of NATO’s definitions characterizes cognitive war as unconventional warfare used to “alter enemy cognitive processes, exploit mental biases or reflexive thinking, and provoke thought distortions, influence decision-making and hinder actions, with negative effects, both at the individual and collective levels.” It goes beyond propaganda or psychological warfare. Another NATO source says it “is not the means by which we fight; it is the fight itself. The brain is both the target and the weapon in the fight for cognitive superiority.”
Maduro understood this, saying that “to counteract a cognitive war, you have to create a force of conscience, a force of values, a spiritual force, and fight with the truth. Our greatest weapon is not a nuclear rocket, our greatest weapon is the truth of Venezuela.”
In a recent Venezuela Solidarity Network webinar about the Venezuelan people’s reaction to the January 3rd attack, Ana Maldonado of the Frente Francisco de Miranda said, “The first victim of this war was truth.” She explained that hours after the bombing and kidnapping, Trump went on television to say the military operation was easy, and that narrative was widely accepted.
Erased from the collective memory were ten years of economic warfare that cost Venezuela tens (if not hundreds) of thousands of lives, $630 billion in damages, and a migration crisis that separated countless families. Erased were the attempted color revolutions of 2014 and 2017, the attempted presidential assassination of 2018, the imposition of a fake president in 2019, and the failed mercenary incursion of 2020. Erased was the U.S. declaring Venezuela “an unusual and extraordinary threat” in 2015 and the imposition of increasingly harsh unilateral coercive measures (so-called sanctions), including during the pandemic.
Erased was the months-long, still ongoing U.S. naval presence in the Caribbean and the declaration of a no-fly zone. Erased was the naval blockade that chased down and seized ships attempting to trade in Venezuelan oil.
No, the January 3rd attack wasn’t “easy,” nor was it a victory. Though the U.S. demonstrated its military advantage, it has not won the cognitive battle. “The superiority shown by the Venezuelan people surpasses anything [the U.S.] has done. Their military attack needed an internal war, a fratricidal war they did not achieve,” explained Maldonado. There was no such war, no coup, no regime change.
The January 3rd attack would have been the perfect opportunity for a new color revolution or rebellion. Maldonado stressed the failure of the "unprecedented cognitive war of provocations, intrigue, of wanting to seed doubts and division.” The grassroots, the government, the military and the police remain united behind acting President Delcy Rodríguez. “The fact that we have and continue to demonstrate such unity shows our superiority. Our superiority is organic. It is revolutionary. It is popular. It is the people … building people’s power,” Maldonado continued.
Venezuelans continue building people’s power, including through plebiscites on March 8, when the nation’s 5,336 communes vote on funding local projects. They are in constant mobilization, making it known they want peace and the return of Maduro and Flores. The streets are theirs, with Venezuelan fascists being increasingly sidelined. They are creating culture and insisting that “a unified people will not yield,” as musician Akilin sings in this video:
Those that claim that Venezuela is now a “protectorate” or “colony” that has sold out or been betrayed don’t seem to be in conversation with Venezuelan revolutionaries. The global solidarity movement, which should be organizing for Maduro and Cilia, calling for an end to sanctions and the withdrawal of U.S. forces from the Caribbean, instead finds itself having to counter such speculation, as Manolo de los Santos did in an excellent article.
A delegation of peace activists went to Venezuela in late February to hear directly from the people. In a report-back webinar, CODEPINK co-founder Jodie Evans observed that Venezuelans “are engaged in building a future…they are in constant dialogue [with each other] and trying to find ways to thread a needle.” The threats against Venezuela are ongoing and “horrific,” she said, noting that “these horrors are being breathed down their necks every day and they are staying quite committed.” The unity up and down the Bolivarian Revolution is what it needs to survive.
Yes, the United States controls the oil trade and pushed for changes in the hydrocarbon law. Yet there is reason to believe the Venezuelan people may see material gains from these concessions. The Venezuelan government is playing a long game that points towards sanctions relief. Domestically, the National Assembly approved an amnesty law aimed at reconciliation with the moderate opposition, which could be an important factor in preventing or blunting any future U.S. operations aimed at fomenting civil unrest. In these negotiations, the Venezuelan people’s red lines “haven’t been hit yet,” as Evans put it.
Maduro, in his final interview before the kidnapping, said he was “truly happy how millions of men and women in Venezuela and the world defend Venezuela’s truth.” In Venezuela, the defense of that truth happens every day, with constant mobilizations since the morning of the attack.
In the rest of the world, that defense feels lacking. This is not the time for over-analyzing every misstep, real or imagined, by the Bolivarian government. It is a time to relentlessly denounce the kidnapping of a president and a legislator. This is the moment to defend Latin America and the Caribbean as a zone of peace. It is an opportunity to counter Trump’s Monroe Doctrine, the plans for a “Greater North America,” and the so-called “Shield of the Americas.”
We can fight against this cognitive war by insisting on an alternative vision for US foreign policy, one in which the country becomes a good neighbor by centering its relationship with the hemisphere (and the world) on peace, solidarity and shared prosperity.
In Caracas, the situation is tangled, contradictory, and volatile. But amid the uncertainty, one thing felt clear: the Venezuelan left is not collapsing. It is recalibrating.
On our recent delegation to Venezuela, one quote echoed again and again — a warning written nearly two centuries ago by Simón Bolívar in 1829:
“The United States appears destined by Providence to plague America with misery in the name of liberty.”
For many Venezuelans, that line no longer feels like history. It feels like the present.
The January 3 US military operation that seized President Nicolás Maduro and First Lady Cilia Flores marked a dramatic escalation in a conflict that Venezuelans describe not as sudden but as cumulative—the culmination of decades of pressure, sanctions, and attempts at isolation. “We still haven’t totally processed what happened on January 3,” sanctions expert William Castillo told us. “But it was the culmination of over 25 years of aggression and 11 years of resisting devastating sanctions. A 20-year-old today has lived half his life in a blockaded country.”
Carlos Ron, former deputy foreign minister and now with the Tricontinental Institute for Social Research, described the buildup to the invasion as the result of a carefully constructed narrative. “First there was the dangerous rhetoric describing Venezuelans in the United States as criminals,” he said. “Then endless references to the Tren de Aragua gang. Then the boat strikes blowing up alleged smugglers. Then the oil tanker seizures and naval blockade. The pressure wasn’t working, so they escalated to the January 3 invasion and kidnapping of President Maduro and his wife, Cilia Flores, and the deaths of over 100 people.”
While in the United States the events of January 3 have largely been forgotten, replaced by a devastating war with Iran, in Venezuela the reminders are everywhere. Huge banners draped from apartment buildings demand: “Bring them home.” Weekly protests call for their release.
In the Tiuna neighborhood of Caracas, we met Mileidy Chirinos, who lives in an apartment complex overlooking the site where Maduro was captured. From her rooftop, she told us about that dreadful night, when the sky lit up with explosions so loud her building shook and everyone ran outside screaming.
“Have your children ever woken up terrified to the sound of bombs?” she asked.
We shook our heads.
“Ours have,” she said. “And they are US bombs. Now we understand what Palestinians in Gaza feel every day.”
She told us psychologists now visit weekly to help residents cope with the trauma.
Within days of the US invasion, the National Assembly swore in Vice President Delcy Rodríguez as acting president. President Trump publicly praised Rodríguez for “doing a good job,” emphasizing his strong relationship with her. But from the beginning, she has been negotiating with the United States with a gun to her head. She was told that any refusal to compromise would result not in the kidnapping of her and her team, but death and the continued bombing of Venezuela.
The presence of US power looms large. Nuclear submarines still patrol offshore. Thousands of troops remain positioned nearby. Every statement and decision made by the government is scrutinized. And on February 2, despite Trump’s praise for Delcy Rodríguez, he renewed the 2015 executive order declaring Venezuela an “unusual and extraordinary threat” to US national security.
The visits from the heads of the CIA and Southern Command have undoubtedly been difficult for the government to swallow. Delcy’s revolutionary father was tortured to death in 1976 by a Venezuelan government that worked closely with the CIA. The US Southern Command coordinated the January 3 attack.
But the government is not without leverage.
“The United States thought the state was weak, that it didn’t have popular support, that the military was divided,” said Tania Díaz of the ruling PSUV party. “January 3rd could have triggered looting, military defections, or widespread destabilization. None of that happened.”
The United States has overwhelming military dominance, but it was also aware that millions of Venezuelans signed up to be part of the people’s militia. This militia, along with the army that remained loyal to the government, gave Washington pause about launching a prolonged war and attempting to replace Delcy Rodríguez with opposition leader María Corina Machado.
While Machado enjoys enthusiastic support among Venezuelan exiles in Miami and the Trump administration recognized her movement as the winner of the 2024 election, the picture inside Venezuela is very different. The opposition remains deeply divided and Trump realized there was no viable faction ready to assume power.
Besides, as William Castillo put it bluntly: “Trump does not care about elections or human rights or political prisoners. He cares about three other things: oil, oil, and oil.” To that, we can add gold, where the US just pushed Venezuela to provide direct access to gold exports and investment opportunities in the country’s gold and mineral sector,
Certainly, under the circumstances, the Venezuelan leadership has had little choice but to grant the United States significant influence over its oil exports. But while Trump boasts that this is the fruit of his “spectacular assault,” Maduro had long been open to cooperation with US oil companies.
“Maduro was well aware that Venezuela needed investment in its oil facilities,” Castillo told us, “but the lack of investment is because of US sanctions, not because of Maduro. Venezuela never stopped selling to the US.; it is the US that stopped buying. And it also stopped selling spare parts needed to repair the infrastructure. So the US started the fire that decimated our oil industry and now acts as if it’s the firefighter coming to the rescue.”
In any case, the easing of oil sanctions—the only sanctions that have been partially lifted—is already bringing an infusion of much-needed dollars, and the government has been able to use these funds to support social programs.
But in Venezuela the conflict is not seen as simply about oil. Blanca Eekhout, head of the Simon Bolivar Institute, says US actions represent a brazen return to the 1823 Monroe Doctrine. The doctrine originally warned European powers not to interfere in the Western Hemisphere, but over time it became a justification for repeated US interventions across the region.
“We have gone back 200 years,” she said. “All rules of sovereignty have been violated. But while the Trump administration thinks it can control the hemisphere by force, it can’t.”
The historical contradiction is stark. In 1823, the young United States declared Latin America its sphere of influence. A year earlier, Bolívar envisioned a powerful, sovereign Latin America capable of charting its own destiny. That tension still echoes through the present.
Bolívar’s dream is also being battered by the resurgence of the right across the region. The left in Latin America is far weaker than during the days of Hugo Chávez. Bolivia’s Evo Morales and Ecuador’s Rafael Correa have been replaced by conservative leaders. Cuba remains under a suffocating US siege. Progressive regional institutions like CELAC and ALBA have faded, and the vision of Latin American unity that once seemed within reach now feels far more fragile.
In Caracas, the situation is tangled, contradictory, and volatile. But amid the uncertainty, one thing felt clear: the Venezuelan left is not collapsing. It is recalibrating.
As Blanca told us before we left:
“They thought we would fall apart. But we are still here.”
And in the background, Bolívar’s warning continues to drift through the air—like a storm that never quite passes.
Cilia Flores is one of the most prominent political prisoners in the world, yet most women’s rights organizations have not said a word in her defense.
On International Working Women’s Day in 2025, Cilia Flores, the wife of Venezuelan President Nicolás Maduro, read a poem she wrote highlighting the historic role played by Latin American women in the fight against imperialism:
We’re not flowers the wind can pluck,
we’re roots of rebel and loyal land,
we’re grandmothers, mothers, daughters, granddaughters;
we are woman.
Our blood pulses with the Manuelas,
Luisas, Josefas, Juanas, Cecilias,
Apacuanas, Bartolinas, Eulalias,
Martas, Anas Marías, Barbaritas
and so many others who legacy inspires,
commits, and strengthens us
to continue walking and traveling our path.
And in our hands and chests
a light is on that nobody will ever turn off:
love, peace and liberty.
—Cilia Flores, International Working Women’s Day 2025
One year later, she languishes in a cell in New York City, having been dragged out of her room and kidnapped by US forces on the January 3 attack on Venezuela. The first images after her abduction showed her face bruised. We later learned she had broken ribs, 23 stitches in her forehead, and deteriorating health inside US custody.
Flores is no ordinary first lady. She first rose to prominence in 1992 as a defense lawyer for a group of Venezuelan military officers who rose up against the government of Carlos Andrés Pérez, which had massacred thousands of people in the Caracazo of 1989–nationwide riots following the imposition of neoliberal austerity measures. Key among those officers was Hugo Chávez, the founder of the Bolivarian Revolution.
Out of solidarity with Cilia, with Venezuelan women in general, we must make it our cause to fight for her freedom.
In 1993, Cilia founded the Bolivarian Circle of Human Rights and aligned herself with Chávez’s revolutionary movement. In 2000, having helped Chávez win consecutive presidential elections, she was elected to the legislature. By 2006, she became the president of the National Assembly, the first woman in Venezuela’s history to occupy the post. Flores held important positions in the United Socialist Party of Venezuela and became the country’s solicitor general in 2012, a post she left to run Nicolás Maduro’s presidential campaign after President Chávez’s passing.
Cilia married Nicolás, her longtime partner, following the election. Feeling that the title of “first lady” could not capture her importance to the Bolivarian Revolution, her husband dubbed her the primera combatiente, or first combatant.
After working behind the scenes as a key adviser to President Maduro, she ran for election to the National Assembly and won in 2015, 2020, and 2025.
Today, she faces charges of conspiracy to import cocaine, along with possession of machine guns and destructive devices. The charges are absurd.
In the early 1990s, back when Venezuela was a key ally of the United States, over 50% of the world’s cocaine was trafficked through the country. By 2025, as Venezuela was considered an “unusual and extraordinary threat” to the United States, that number was down to 5%. President Donald Trump’s rhetoric of Venezuela flooding the US with cocaine, and his constant conflation of cocaine with fentanyl (which is neither trafficked through nor produced in Venezuela), has no basis in reality.
Now that the Trump administration controls Venezuela’s oil trade, the rhetoric on drugs has flipped. Following a visit to Venezuela, the head of US Southern Command touted a new counternarcotics cooperation agreement. Was the abduction of Nicolás and Cilia sufficient to end whatever alleged narcotics operation the Venezuelan government was accused of running? It’s more likely that such operations never existed in the first place. The allegations of drug trafficking served not only to discredit the Venezuelan government and its leaders but also paved the way for the January 3 attack.
Cilia Flores is one of the most prominent political prisoners in the world, yet most women’s rights organizations have not said a word in her defense. She is a sitting member of Venezuela’s National Assembly and played an instrumental role in the movement that greatly expanded democratic, economic, and social rights in the country.
Cilia stands with Palestine. In a November 2023 conference in Turkey, she said: “We are witnessing a genocide… We see the victims in Gaza. We see the death of children, women, the elderly, and civilians. We see civilian victims coming out of their destroyed homes, but unable to leave the city because they are in an open-air prison.”
Cilia brought feminism to the Bolivarian Revolution. On International Working Women’s Day in 2023, she helped launch a social mission aimed at protecting women from the worst of the economic war. At the time, she said: “Venezuelan women have shown they are the vanguard. Women make up more than half the population, but we are also mothers of the other half, so we form a whole. And in this war that Venezuela has endured, we achieved victory and are standing firm thanks to the participation of Venezuelan women, who did not just stay home taking care of children, building their families, but also took to the streets to defend the nation. Our women are patriots... and in the next scenario, whatever it may be, we will be victorious because women will be at the forefront of any battle."
Little did she know that the next scenario would be a prison cell in the United States. Out of solidarity with Cilia, with Venezuelan women in general, we must make it our cause to fight for her freedom.
Recalling her beautiful poem above, today our blood pulses with Cilia.