Venezuela's interim government promises political prisoners' release via amnesty law

On Friday, February 6th, the head of Venezuela's parliament stood outside a police detention facility in Caracas and made a promise to the families gathered there: their relatives would walk free within days. Jorge Rodríguez, who leads the National Assembly and is the brother of interim president Delcy Rodríguez, told the crowd that an amnesty law would receive final approval the following Tuesday, and that once it passed, all political prisoners covered by the measure would be released that same day.

The interim government has been operating under intense pressure from Washington since Nicolás Maduro's capture in a U.S. military operation on January 3rd. Delcy Rodríguez assumed the presidency in his absence, and the amnesty law represents one of the administration's most significant legislative moves—a sweeping measure designed to address the accumulated weight of three decades of chavista rule. The National Assembly had already voted in favor of the law in its first required debate on Thursday, and Rodríguez urged lawmakers to move with speed. "We don't have much time," he told them, though he offered no explanation for the urgency.

The law targets charges that have long been weaponized against political opponents: treason, terrorism, incitement to hatred. A draft reviewed by AFP specified these categories explicitly. But the measure also contains careful boundaries. Constitutional prohibitions against amnestying crimes against humanity remain in place, and the draft text specifically excludes serious human rights violations, crimes of war, intentional homicide, corruption, and drug trafficking from its scope. Juan Carlos Apitz, dean of the law faculty at Venezuela's largest university, expressed cautious approval of what he had seen, praising an "honest spirit of correction," though he warned that the amnesty could not become a blanket of impunity for those who inflicted torture and cruel treatment.

Outside the police headquarters, the human dimension of the promise was impossible to miss. Nancy Plaza, whose husband remains detained in the facility known as Zona 7, approached Rodríguez with a direct plea: help her get her family member out. "I told him to please do it for my children, for me, for all the political prisoners, because there are many mothers suffering," she told AFP. Rodríguez embraced her and others, assuring them: "We're going to get them all out." Alida Andrade, whose daughter is held at the Rodeo 1 prison outside Caracas, expressed a mixture of hope and caution. "We're waiting for Tuesday with great eagerness," she said. "You have to be patient, but trusting in God and giving them the benefit of the doubt again so they can keep their promise."

The numbers tell part of the story. Since Delcy Rodríguez announced a release process on January 8th, the human rights organization Foro Penal has documented 383 political prisoners freed as of February 5th. But many remain. The interim government's credibility rests on whether it can move from announcement to action—whether the Tuesday vote materializes and whether the releases follow as promised.

The amnesty law also includes a provision to revoke political disqualifications, administrative measures the chavista government had used for years to bar opposition rivals from electoral competition. Nicolás Maduro Guerra, the former president's son and now a deputy in the assembly, led consultations with legal experts at the legislative palace, framing the amnesty as essential to reconciliation and forgiveness. "Those of us who have made mistakes must apologize, ask for forgiveness, repair the damage that may have been done, and move forward," he said.

But the shadow of international accountability looms. The International Criminal Court is investigating possible crimes against humanity committed in Venezuela during Maduro's government since 2017. The amnesty law's explicit exclusion of such crimes suggests awareness of that investigation, yet families and human rights advocates remain uncertain whether the measure will truly deliver justice or merely create space for the interim government to consolidate power while leaving the deepest wounds unhealed.