A foreign power conducting military operations in her city's airspace, a thing that had not happened before.
Meses após a captura de Nicolás Maduro por forças americanas em janeiro, aviões militares dos Estados Unidos sobrevoaram Caracas com autorização do novo governo venezuelano — um gesto que, embora descrito como exercício de preparação, revelou a profundidade da reconfiguração política em curso. A presença de aeronaves Osprey e embarcações navais no Caribe não foi apenas logística: foi a materialização de uma nova relação entre Washington e Caracas, construída sobre os escombros de décadas de antagonismo. Para os venezuelanos, o céu sobre a capital tornou-se um espelho de quanto havia mudado — e de quanto ainda estava por ser decidido.
- Pela primeira vez desde a captura de Maduro em janeiro — operação que custou ao menos 100 vidas —, militares americanos realizaram exercícios em solo e águas venezuelanas, com helicópteros Osprey pousando próximos à embaixada dos EUA em Caracas.
- O comandante do Comando Sul dos EUA esteve pessoalmente presente na capital para supervisionar a manobra, sinalizando que Washington trata a Venezuela como prioridade estratégica sob o governo Trump.
- A embaixada americana reafirmou seu compromisso com um plano de estabilização em três fases para o país, enquanto o novo governo de Delcy Rodríguez abre reservas de petróleo e minerais venezuelanos a interesses americanos.
- Moradores de Caracas, como a administradora Evelyn Rebolledo, de 57 anos, observaram os exercícios com desconforto — a visão de forças estrangeiras operando no espaço aéreo da cidade gerou uma sensação de incerteza sobre quem, afinal, escreve o futuro do país.
- A soberania venezuelana, antes defendida com veemência contra qualquer ingerência americana, tornou-se matéria de negociação — e o que alguns leem como pragmatismo, outros vivem como perda.
Em um sábado de maio, dois helicópteros militares americanos do tipo MV-22B Osprey pousaram nas proximidades da embaixada dos EUA em Caracas, enquanto embarcações navais se posicionavam no Caribe. O governo venezuelano havia autorizado o exercício, descrito oficialmente como simulação para emergências médicas e desastres naturais. Era a primeira operação do tipo desde janeiro, quando tropas americanas capturaram Nicolás Maduro e sua esposa, Cilia Flores — uma ação que, segundo autoridades venezuelanas, deixou ao menos 100 mortos.
A escala e o simbolismo da manobra iam além do protocolo. O general Francis Donovan, comandante do Comando Sul dos EUA, estava presente em Caracas para supervisionar os exercícios. Em seguida, a embaixada americana divulgou nota reafirmando seu compromisso com o plano de estabilização em três fases do presidente Trump para a Venezuela. A mensagem era inequívoca: Washington está investida na nova ordem que se consolida no país.
Essa nova ordem tem como figura central Delcy Rodríguez, ex-vice-presidente de Maduro que assumiu o poder após a queda do regime. Seu governo já iniciou a abertura das vastas reservas de petróleo e minerais venezuelanos a empresas americanas — uma reversão radical em relação à era Maduro. A administração Trump apoiou abertamente essa transição, enxergando nela vantagem estratégica e oportunidade econômica.
Para quem vive em Caracas, a cena teve outro peso. Evelyn Rebolledo, administradora de 57 anos, assistiu aos exercícios com inquietação. Ver aeronaves estrangeiras operando no espaço aéreo de sua cidade era algo sem precedente, disse ela — e deixou moradores em estado de incerteza. O país já havia atravessado meses de turbulência: a captura de Maduro, a transição de poder, o realinhamento com os Estados Unidos. Tudo isso criou uma espécie de suspensão, um intervalo em que o futuro permanece genuinamente aberto.
A soberania venezuelana, antes defendida com fervor contra qualquer presença americana, tornou-se negociável. Para alguns, isso representa pragmatismo e uma saída para a estabilidade. Para outros, é uma perda — o momento em que o destino do país passou a ser escrito por forças que não habitam suas ruas.
On a Saturday in late May, American military aircraft descended over Caracas. Two MV-22B Osprey helicopters touched down near the U.S. embassy while naval vessels moved into Caribbean waters off Venezuela's coast. It was a show of force, though officially framed as a drill—a simulation for medical emergencies or natural disasters. The Venezuelan government had authorized it. This was the first such exercise since January, when U.S. troops captured former president Nicolás Maduro and his wife, Cilia Flores, in an operation that Venezuelan authorities say killed at least 100 people.
The timing and scale of the maneuver signaled something deeper than routine preparation. Francis Donovan, commander of U.S. Southern Command, the military authority overseeing American operations across the Americas, was present in the capital to oversee the exercise. The U.S. embassy released a statement afterward, emphasizing its commitment to implementing what it called President Trump's three-phase plan for Venezuela, with particular focus on what it termed "stabilization" of the country. The message was clear: Washington was invested in the new order taking shape.
That new order centers on Delcy Rodríguez, who served as Maduro's vice president before the regime fell. Her government has already moved to open Venezuela's vast petroleum reserves and mineral wealth to American interests—a dramatic reversal from the Maduro era, when such resources were largely off-limits to U.S. companies. The Trump administration has backed this shift openly, seeing in it both strategic advantage and economic opportunity.
For residents of Caracas, the sight of foreign military aircraft overhead carried a different weight. Evelyn Rebolledo, a 57-year-old administrator living in the capital, watched the exercise unfold with unease. She described the moment as unsettling—a foreign power conducting military operations in her city's airspace, a thing that had not happened before. The presence of American forces, she said, left her and others in a state of uncertainty. The country had already endured months of upheaval. The capture of Maduro, the transition of power, the reshaping of Venezuela's relationship with the United States—all of it had created a kind of suspended moment, a period where the future remained genuinely unclear.
What happens next depends partly on how smoothly the new government consolidates power and how effectively it manages the expectations of its American backers. The exercises themselves were authorized, sanctioned by the Venezuelan state. Yet their very occurrence—foreign military hardware operating in the nation's capital with official permission—underscored how much had changed. Venezuela's sovereignty, once jealously guarded against American interference, had become negotiable. For some, that represented pragmatism and a path toward stability. For others, it felt like a loss, a moment when the country's future was being written by forces beyond its control.
Citas Notables
A foreign country flying over the city is something new for us, especially coming from the United States given the current situation and all the turbulence in the country. It leaves us in a state of uncertainty.— Evelyn Rebolledo, 57-year-old Caracas resident
La Conversación del Hearth Otra perspectiva de la historia
Why did the U.S. need to conduct these exercises now, five months after Maduro's capture? Why not earlier?
The timing matters. The new government under Rodríguez needed to consolidate first—to establish legitimacy, to show it could govern. Doing military exercises too soon might have looked like occupation. Now, with the transition underway, it signals partnership rather than conquest.
And the residents—Rebolledo spoke of uncertainty. What exactly are people uncertain about?
Whether this new arrangement will actually improve their lives, or whether they've simply traded one form of external control for another. Maduro was authoritarian and corrupt. But he was Venezuelan. Now American helicopters land in Caracas with official permission. That's a different kind of vulnerability.
The 100 deaths from the January operation—that's a significant number. Does that factor into how people view what's happening now?
Absolutely. Those deaths are still recent, still raw. You can't separate the exercises from that context. For many Caracas residents, the military presence is a reminder of how the transition happened—through force, with real casualties. The drills feel less like preparation and more like assertion.
What about the oil and minerals? That's the real story, isn't it?
It's certainly what Washington cares about most. Venezuela sits on some of the world's largest proven oil reserves. For decades, those were off-limits to American companies. Now they're opening up. The exercises are partly about securing that arrangement, making sure the new government stays aligned with U.S. interests.
So this is stable, then? The new government has popular support?
That's the open question. Rodríguez has legitimacy through the transition process, but whether ordinary Venezuelans see her government as their government, or as America's proxy—that's still being determined. The exercises don't help that perception.