Hope lies in the street—but the street is hungry
In the streets of Caracas, Venezuelan opposition activists have stepped out of the shadows for the first time in years, emboldened by Maduro's removal but uncertain of what comes next. The democratic opening they hoped for is being quietly narrowed by a Trump administration more interested in economic arrangements with the interim regime than in the harder work of free elections. History offers this moment as a rare hinge point — one where the distance between possibility and outcome will be decided not by the people in the streets, but by negotiations far above them.
- Activists who spent nearly two years in hiding are canvassing poor neighborhoods again, a fragile sign that the worst of the repression has lifted — for now.
- Nearly 3,000 people were arrested in the post-election crackdown, and the scars of that terror — destroyed shirts, sleepless nights, scattered families — are still fresh in the communities they are trying to rebuild.
- Washington's appetite for democratic transition is shrinking: public support for Trump's Venezuela policy collapsed from 92% to 46% in just three months as Venezuelans realized economic deals, not elections, were the real prize.
- Opposition leader María Corina Machado has pledged to return to Venezuela by year's end, but the interim government she would confront is the same one the Trump administration has quietly embraced — leaving her exposed and her allies uncertain.
- On the ground, the crisis has not paused for politics: families eat chicken feet instead of meat, children sleep on floors, and neighborhoods have gone without running water for over two decades.
Anthony Romero spent 600 days moving between safe houses, hunted by Maduro's secret police after helping challenge the regime's fraudulent 2024 election results. By early June, he was walking openly through La Dolorita, a poor neighborhood in east Caracas, wearing the blue shirt of Vente Venezuela and promising residents that democracy was coming. When police arrived, they photographed his team and left. Six months earlier, that encounter would have ended in handcuffs.
The activists who have emerged from hiding carry a complicated hope. Oswaldo Rodríguez, a retired carpentry teacher, once cut his own blue party shirt to pieces with scissors when armed regime loyalists came to his door. Jonatan Molero, a restaurateur turned activist, said the work they are doing now would have meant immediate arrest before January 3, when US special forces removed Maduro from power. Romero tells residents that opposition leader María Corina Machado will return and lead Venezuela to a freely elected government. Analysts are less certain.
A Chatham House report found Venezuela has its best chance in over a decade to restore democracy — but the window is closing. The Trump administration has grown comfortable with the interim government led by Maduro's former vice-president, Delcy Rodríguez, in exchange for economic concessions. Researcher Christopher Sabatini put it plainly: Washington needs a foreign policy win, and Venezuela is what it is holding up as one. Elections that might disrupt that arrangement are not a priority.
In La Dolorita, the human cost of the crisis is impossible to ignore. One resident told Romero her street has had no running water for 21 years. A family of four, including a child with special needs, sleeps on the floor. Community organizer Juan Córdova said hunger is everywhere, with families earning fifty dollars a week unable to survive. Public support for Trump's Venezuela policy fell from 92% to 46% between January and April as Venezuelans grew uneasy with his focus on natural resources and apparent indifference to holding elections.
Machado, who left Venezuela in December to accept a Nobel Prize she later gave to Trump, has pledged to return by year's end to seek the presidency. But her path is narrowing. Sabatini warned that when she returns, she will try to confront the interim government — a showdown whose outcome, including the possibility of her arrest, may depend on whether the Trump administration chooses her over the regime it has already embraced. That question, he said, has no certain answer.
As Romero's team wrapped up their canvassing, they gathered in the home of Neirubes Millan, a 58-year-old woman who wept describing how she had fed the neighborhood's poorest children through the worst of the crisis. "Happiness is on its way," she said. Outside, old murals still honored Maduro's fallen government. Beneath one celebrating his "good governance," a scavenger sorted through a dumpster. Farther down the street, a faded image of Hugo Chávez carried words that now felt newly weighted: "Hope lies in the street."
Anthony Romero spent nearly two years moving between safe houses, never staying in one place long enough to be found. The secret police were looking for him. After he helped challenge Nicolás Maduro's claim to have won the 2024 presidential election, the regime responded with what Romero, a 35-year-old lawyer, describes as the harshest repression Venezuela has ever seen—nearly 3,000 arrests in the months that followed.
But on a Saturday afternoon in early June, Romero was walking openly through the streets of La Dolorita, a poor neighborhood in east Caracas, wearing the signature blue shirt of Vente Venezuela, the political party of Nobel laureate María Corina Machado. He was canvassing, talking to residents, promising change. This would have meant immediate arrest six months earlier. On January 3, US special forces removed Maduro from power, and the repression, at least for now, has eased. Police arrived while Romero's team was working the neighborhood, photographed them, and left them alone.
The activists who emerged from hiding carry a complicated hope. Oswaldo Rodríguez, a retired carpentry teacher now 59, remembers being so afraid during the post-election crackdown that when armed pro-regime thugs came to his house, he used scissors to destroy his blue Vente shirt. Jonatan Molero, 46, a restaurateur and activist, said they would have been arrested immediately for the work they are doing now. Romero tells residents that Machado will return and lead Venezuela to democracy, that the process begun on January 3 will inevitably produce a freely elected government.
Analysts are less certain. A recent Chatham House report found that Venezuela has its best chance in more than a decade to restore democracy and rebuild its economy. But the momentum is fading. The Trump administration appears satisfied with the current interim government—led by Delcy Rodríguez, Maduro's vice-president—in exchange for economic concessions and political obedience. Christopher Sabatini, who authored the report, said Washington has shown little interest in pushing for elections that might disrupt this new arrangement. "The US needs a foreign policy win," Sabatini explained, "and Venezuela is what they're holding up as a win." The opposition's frustration is evident: Trump's interest was never democracy.
In La Dolorita, the human cost of Venezuela's crisis is visible on every street. María Núñez, 63, told Romero that her house has had no running water for 21 years. She once could afford pork chops; now she eats chicken feet. Her neighbors are worse off—a family of four, including a child with special needs, sleeps on the floor because they cannot afford a mattress. Juan Córdova, a community organizer, said hunger is everywhere. Families making fifty dollars a week for seven days of work cannot survive. "Every day they and their friends grow richer and the people grow poorer," Córdova said of the government.
Public patience is wearing thin. Support for Trump's actions in Venezuela collapsed from 92 percent in January to 46 percent by April, as Venezuelans grew uncomfortable with his focus on accessing Venezuelan natural resources and his apparent indifference to holding elections. Yet some residents still believe in the process. Rodríguez, the retired carpenter, said he trusts Trump's three-phase roadmap: stabilization, economic recovery, and political transition. "Donald Trump has been a great ally of democracy in Venezuela," he said, acknowledging disappointment but expressing faith that negotiations would eventually produce reforms and free elections.
Machado, who left Venezuela in December to receive a Nobel Prize she later gave to Trump, has pledged to return by year's end to seek the presidency. But her path to power is narrowing. The relationship between Trump and the interim regime is deepening, and Machado risks being sidelined by the very ally she depends on. Sabatini predicted that when Machado returns, she will attempt to reassert control of the opposition and confront the interim government—a showdown with unpredictable consequences, including the possibility of her arrest. "If something happens to her, it really becomes a question of whether the Trump administration will go to battle for María Corina Machado against the interim government that it has embraced," Sabatini said. "I wouldn't be sure which way that would go."
As Romero's team left La Dolorita that afternoon, they had gathered in the sitting room of Neirubes Millan, a 58-year-old woman who wept describing her efforts to feed the neighborhood's poorest children during the worst of the crisis. "We cry because we aren't the people we used to be," she said. "But happiness is on its way. Soon this will all be over and things will be different." Romero stepped back into the sunlight, celebrating the welcome his team had received in an area where the opposition had long been unwelcome. Behind him, old murals still honored Maduro's fallen regime. Beneath one celebrating his "good governance," a scavenger picked through a dumpster. Farther down the street, a faded painting of Hugo Chávez bore words that now carried new weight: "Hope lies in the street."
Notable Quotes
The US needs a foreign policy win, and Venezuela is what they're holding up as a win. Washington's interest was never democracy.— Christopher Sabatini, Chatham House
We cry because we aren't the people we used to be. But happiness is on its way. Soon this will all be over and things will be different.— Neirubes Millan, La Dolorita resident
The Hearth Conversation Another angle on the story
Why does it matter that Romero can walk the streets openly now, when nothing has actually changed politically?
Because for 600 days he couldn't. The fact that he can is the only proof most Venezuelans have that something shifted. But you're right—it's fragile. The regime is tolerating him, not embracing him. That's a very different thing.
The Trump administration seems to have made a deal with the interim government. What does Venezuela lose in that bargain?
Time, mostly. And leverage. If the US is satisfied with the current arrangement, there's no pressure on the interim regime to hold elections or reform anything. Machado becomes a problem to manage rather than a partner to support. The opposition's only real power was that Washington wanted them to win.
María Núñez hasn't had running water in 21 years. How does political transition help her tomorrow?
It doesn't, not immediately. But the current system has no incentive to help her at all. A government that needs to win elections has to at least pretend to care about water and food. Right now, the interim regime doesn't have to pretend anything.
Sabatini said he's not sure whether Trump would defend Machado if she's arrested. That sounds like a threat.
It is. It's the threat that hangs over everything now. Machado promised to return. If she does and gets arrested, Trump has to choose between the interim government he's already made a deal with and the opposition leader he's already abandoned. That's not a choice he's shown any willingness to make.
What happens if support for Trump drops below 46 percent?
Then the opposition has to find another way forward without him. And Venezuela doesn't have another way forward right now. That's the real problem.