U.S. guardianship over Venezuela endures. And with it a hard-to-describe sense of waiting grows among the population: a huge expectation of economic improvements and a transition to democracy that has yet to materialize. Impatience is spreading, especially among political elites. Oil production is rising, driven by new exploitation licenses granted by Washington, but the surplus has not yet translated into revenue for the treasury. The currency steadily depreciates. Economic stagnation is one of the most frequent — and distressing — topics of conversation in the streets of Caracas. Contrary to what Donald Trump said, Venezuelans are not dancing with joy in the streets.
“The gringos do whatever they want and nobody here says anything,” says Gregoria Acosta, a resident of Petare, a large working‑class area east of Caracas. “They said things were going to get better, but the dollar is worse than ever. I think those guys just want to take the oil.”
On Thursdays and Fridays it has become common for relatives of political prisoners, activists, union leaders and teachers not to march to downtown Caracas — where the public powers are — but to the U.S. embassy in the Valle Arriba neighborhood, to confront Chargé d’Affaires John Barrett or ask Washington to intervene for better wages and an electoral timetable.
“The gringos arrived and began making promises that things would improve,” says Roberto Tovar, a plumber from Chapellín, a working‑class neighborhood wedged between middle‑class areas in north‑central Caracas. “This isn’t getting better: it gets worse every day. I’ve even thought about emigrating again.”
“Oil production is rising, but the currency continues to depreciate every day and inflation is accelerating,” Ricardo Hausmann, a Venezuelan economist and Harvard academic, wrote on X while commenting on how Washington is handling the country’s oil revenues. “Not much money is actually coming into Caracas.”
“Venezuela is not today where we hope it will be for the people of Venezuela’s sake, but it is moving in the right direction,” Secretary of State Marco Rubio said at a recent appearance before the House. “Our hope was to stabilize the country. We didn’t want to see civil war. We didn’t want to see systemic collapse. We didn’t want to see a mass migration event. You’ve seen none of these things,” he added. Rubio said the oil surplus should be audited before entering the Venezuelan economy: “Venezuela’s economic recovery is going to take time.”
The news of the operation that resulted in the death of El Niño Guerrero — head of Tren de Aragua, the Venezuelan‑origin criminal organization present in several countries — announced by Trump himself, was received in Caracas with disbelief and mockery. People talk about the “close cooperation” Washington attributes to the government of Delcy Rodríguez in the operation, and the freedom with which U.S. armed forces operate on Venezuelan soil.
Another widely discussed episode came on May 23, when U.S. military aircraft crossed Caracas’s skies and landed near the embassy. Days earlier, General Dan Caine, chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff of the U.S. Armed Forces, had visited the country in the absence of Delcy Rodríguez, who was on a visit to India.
Some opposition politicians privately call Washington “the guardian.” In critical sectors of Chavismo, the term used is “the wards.” Hardliners no longer hold back their criticism of acting President Rodríguez, whose administration has accepted Washington’s directives with striking docility.
Historic leaders of the United Socialist Party of Venezuela (PSUV), such as Elías Jaua — a former vice president and close confidant of Hugo Chávez — have urged activists to organize against the guardianship. The Simón Bolívar Coordinator — the founding core of the colectivos, armed civilian militias loyal to the revolution present throughout the country — issued a statement denouncing “a country besieged by international corporations, invaded by the mercenaries of capital, and militarily attacked” and called on its members to resist.
Washington officials enter and leave the country leaving directives on the new oil, energy, and mining laws that the National Assembly has been approving. Talks between the two governments do not focus on democracy or human rights. They get straight to the point: security, better conditions for private investment, lower royalties for the state, returns for international capital.
“Operational normalization — licenses, energy, mining, security, and contracts — is advancing much faster than a verifiable democratic architecture,” Benigno Alarcón, a Venezuelan lawyer and political analyst, wrote on X. “The main risk remains that the regime advances its stabilization and manages to replace transition with normalization. That it succeeds in co‑opting relations with the United States,” he added.
Within the opposition leadership, U.S. guardianship tends to be seen as temporary and necessary. With free elections and the restoration of popular sovereignty, leaders such as Juan Pablo Guanipa or Andrés Velásquez say things would return to normal and the United States would leave.
Rubio’s three‑phase plan — stabilization, recovery, and transition — remains the opposition’s reference roadmap. “We have discussed and approved a roadmap in the [opposition Unitary] Platform that marches in step with what Marco Rubio has said; there is no mystery about that,” says Delsa Solórzano, leader of Encuentro Ciudadano and a key figure of the Unitary Platform. “We met in Panama and reached important agreements, those outside the country and those of us remaining here. Their presence is necessary at this stage. Our first objective is to return to democracy.”
“The loss of sovereignty is a very serious issue that everyone avoids confronting,” says Andrés Caleca, leader of the Movimiento por Venezuela party. “Twenty‑seven years of Chavismo meant the destruction of the Republic. The violation of Venezuelan sovereignty goes back a long time: control of the repressive apparatus and of the Armed Forces themselves has been Cuban. We saw it on January 3: Maduro’s security ring, flattened in that attack, was made up of Cuban soldiers,” he adds.
Caleca then alludes to María Corina Machado: “There are sectors in the opposition that have been asking for a military intervention for many years. They have said it: we cannot do it alone. That has consequences. And here we are.”
“The population expects political change, but above all, and first and foremost, improvements in the economy,” says Félix Seijas, an executive at the polling firm Delphos. “Most of the country sees that things are moving slowly, but the population also greatly values the change in atmosphere since January 3. The dominant feeling in the measurements is that things have been delayed, but that something definitive will have to happen in Venezuela. That expectation remains,” he explains.
“There is total dependence of the regime on the interests of the United States,” says prominent historian and intellectual Elías Pino Iturrieta, a voice widely heard within opposition ranks. “The opening is minimal, with imperial complacency: stepmother Trump and his submissive stepchildren. The opposition hesitates, because it also depends on Mar‑a‑Lago. It is not an auspicious outlook, and there are no near prospects for change, due to the weakness of social forces and the fear of repression,” he laments. For the writer and professor, Venezuela, far from dancing, “revels in a fetid swamp.”
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