For most Venezuelans, the early hours of 3 January represented a symbolic break with historical impunity. The image of Maduro under arrest shattered the myth that the regime’s highest leaders would never pay for their actions. However, beyond the joy experienced in Venezuelan homes and in countries with a big Venezuelan diaspora, what happened was a manoeuvre to ensure the system’s survival.

Chavismo is not a monolithic bloc, but a coalition of factions organised around economic interests and power networks. Broadly speaking, there are two main groups: a civilian faction and a military faction. Both manage and compete for strategic businesses, but the military is present, directly or indirectly, in most of them as coercive guarantors of the system.

The civilian faction controls areas linked to financial and political management, while the military faction secures and protects logistics chains, ports, routes and territories. Within this architecture there are various conglomerates of interests. There’s oil, an opaque business managed through parallel markets, irregular intermediation and non-transparent financial schemes. There’s drug trafficking, sustained by territorial control and institutional permissiveness. There’s the food system, which historically profited from exchange controls and the administration of hunger. And there’s illegal mining, where the military presence alongside Colombian guerrilla groups such as the National Liberation Army (ELN) is dominant and structural.

Maduro’s downfall appears to have been part of an agreement among these factions to preserve their respective businesses: they handed over the figure who could no longer guarantee them money laundering or social peace in order to regroup under a new technocratic facade that ensures they can enjoy their wealth without the pressure of international sanctions.

A revealing detail is that, while Maduro and his wife, Cilia Flores, were captured, their children remain in Caracas with their businesses intact. Their son, Nicolás Maduro Guerra, continues to operate in the fishing sector and in the export of industrial waste such as aluminium and iron. This suggests the existence of a family protection pact.

We are seeing an economic transition, but by no means a democratic transition. Rodríguez has the reputation of being much more efficient and has had greater international exposure than the rest of Chavismo. She’s backed by a new business elite, young people under 45 who need to launder their capital and gain legitimacy in the global market. Their goal is to improve purchasing power and reduce hunger in order to confer respectability on the regime, while maintaining social control.

The conflict over the territory of Essequibo is neither new nor improvised: it’s a historical dispute and Venezuela has legal and political arguments to support its claims over the territory. For decades, the two states agreed on a mechanism to contain the dispute, which involved a temporary cessation of active claims and a ban on exploiting the area’s natural resources while a negotiated solution was sought.

In this context, Chávez chose to de-escalate the conflict as part of his international strategy. To gain diplomatic support, particularly in the Caribbean, he reduced pressure on the Essequibo, and as a result, several Caribbean Community countries supported Venezuela in multilateral forums such as the Organization of American States. Guyana interpreted this not as a tactical pause but as an abandonment of the claim, and decided to move forward unilaterally and grant concessions to ExxonMobil to conduct oil exploration. These operations revealed the existence of large reserves of high-quality crude oil.

The reactivation of the conflict is, therefore, a combination of legitimate historical claims and political expediency. This wasn’t simply Maduro’s nationalist outburst but an attempt to capture new revenue amid the collapse of Venezuela’s traditional oil industry.

Oil remains the linchpin of the regime’s geopolitics. Although Venezuela has the largest reserves in the world, most of it is extra-heavy crude, which is expensive to extract and process and profitable only when international prices are high. In contrast, the oil discovered off the Atlantic coast of the Essequibo is light, comparable to Saudi oil, and therefore much cheaper to produce and refine. This economic differential explains much of the regime’s renewed aggressiveness in a dispute that had been contained for years.

In addition to oil and gas, there’s another source of strategic wealth that sustains the regime. The Orinoco Mining Arc is a vast exploitation zone in southern Venezuela, rich in coltan, diamonds, gold and rare earths. The ELN operates there under the protection of the army. It’s a brutal extraction system that generates a flow of wealth in cash and precious metals that directly finances the high military hierarchy, maintaining its loyalty to the system regardless of what happens to oil revenues or the formal economy.

It is noteworthy that, despite the US intervention and the rhetoric about strategic resources, the mining arc has hardly been mentioned. We presume it was part of the negotiation so the military would not resist Maduro’s arrest. The USA appears to have chosen to secure oil in other areas of Venezuela and let the military maintain its mining revenues in the south, since intervening there would mean getting involved in guerrilla warfare in the jungle.

The announcement was presented as a gesture of openness, but the so-called releases are actually simple discharges from prison. This means political prisoners are released and go home, but still have pending charges and are therefore banned from leaving Venezuela and must appear in court periodically, usually every few days. In addition, they are absolutely prohibited from speaking to the media and participating in political activities.

This reduces the political cost of keeping prisoners in cells, but maintains legal control over them. Released prisoners live under constant threat. The state reminds them and their families that their freedom is conditional and any gesture of dissent can return them to prison immediately. This is a mechanism of institutional whitewashing: it projects an image of clemency while maintaining repression through administrative means that are much more difficult to denounce before the international community.

Social and trade union movements are in a state of exhaustion and deep demobilisation. After years of mass protests between 2014 and 2017 that resulted in fierce repression, people have lost faith in mobilisation as a tool for change. Increasingly, the priority has been daily survival, particularly food and security, with political struggles taking a back seat.

Authorities have been surgical in their repression of the trade union movement: they imprisoned key leaders to terrorise the rank and file and paralyse any attempt at strike action. While organisations like ours have continued to provide technical support and training in cybersecurity, activism is now a highly risky activity.

I see no signs of a genuine democratic transition. The regime’s strategy seems to be to maintain for the next two years the fiction that Maduro has not definitively ceased to hold office and could return, in order to circumvent the constitutional obligation to call immediate elections, which the opposition would surely win. During those two years, which coincide with the final two years of Trump’s term, they will flood the market with imported goods and try to stabilise the currency to create some sense of wellbeing. They will surely use the Supreme Court to interpret some article of the constitution to justify that there’s no definitive presidential vacancy.

Halfway through the term, they would no longer need to call elections. Instead, they could declare Maduro’s ‘absolute vacancy’ so that Rodríguez could finish the 2025-2031 presidential term. Thus, they would try to reach the 2030 election with a renewed image and a recovered economy, on the calculation that a sense of economic wellbeing would prevail over the memory of decades of abuse. They could even enable opposition figures to simulate a fair contest, but would maintain total control of the electoral system and media.

We are concerned the international community will accept the idea of an ‘efficient authoritarianism’ that reduces hunger but maintains censorship and persecution of dissent.