Venezuela’s current turmoil did not begin with the fall of a leader, nor will it end with one.
What the country is experiencing today is the outcome of a long political and economic unravelling, shaped by oil dependence, institutional decay, and a gradual shift from pragmatic international engagement to ideological confrontation.
Where may Venezuela go next? To understand this, it is essential to understand how it arrived here, and why the choices ahead are so constrained.
For much of the twentieth century, Venezuela maintained a largely functional, interest-based relationship with the United States. Oil exports anchored this partnership specifically, and political differences were managed within a transactional framework.
The relationship was not equal, nor was it free of tension, however, it was predictable.
Venezuela supplied energy. The United States provided markets, investment, and diplomatic recognition. Governance weaknesses lasted, but they were cushioned by revenue and external integration.
This equilibrium began to fracture at the turn of the century.
The rise of Hugo Chávez marked a decisive shift in both domestic politics and foreign policy. Oil wealth was no longer treated as a stabilizing asset but as a political instrument.
National sovereignty became the organizing principle of governance, and opposition was increasingly framed as external interference rather than internal dissent.
After the failed coup attempt in 2002, mistrust hardened. Institutions were weakened in the name of revolutionary defense, while external pressure was interpreted as existential threat.
From that point onwards, relations between Caracas and Washington ceased to be interest-driven and became ideological. Compromise was no longer negotiation. It was surrender.
When Nicolás Maduro inherited power in 2013, he inherited this confrontation without the political authority or economic buffer that had sustained his predecessor.
The collapse of global oil prices after 2014 exposed long-standing structural weaknesses. Currency controls distorted markets. Oil production declined. State capacity hollowed out.
Rather than reform, the government relied increasingly on coercion and political control. Elections lost credibility. Judicial independence eroded. Economic management became improvised and opaque.
International responses escalated in parallel. Sanctions expanded. Diplomatic recognition was withdrawn. External pressure was framed as a tool to restore democracy.
The result was a prolonged stalemate. The government retained territorial control but lost legitimacy abroad. The opposition gained recognition but lacked effective power at home. Economic collapse deepened, but no negotiated transition emerged.
This is the context in which Venezuela now faces its most dangerous moment. The removal of Maduro, however significant symbolically, does not in itself resolve the crisis.
It instead exposes a vacuum between regime change and state reconstruction. That gap is where countries often collapse.
The immediate risks are concrete. Security forces may fragment. Public institutions may stop functioning. Oil production and electricity supply may be disrupted. Humanitarian access may become politicized.
We can look at other experiences too. Libya’s rapid regime removal without stabilization produced lasting fragmentation. Iraq’s swift dismantling of state structures created space for prolonged insurgency. Yemen’s fragile transition collapsed once institutions failed to hold.
Venezuela now faces a similar inflection point.
The first plausible future is not democratic renewal, but stabilization. Preventing collapse requires accepting an uncomfortable reality, that order must come before reform.
A temporary authority, with a narrow and time-bound mandate, would need to prioritize security containment, continuity of essential services, and depoliticized humanitarian access.
Oil production would need to continue, not as a prize to be captured, but as a lifeline to fund food, fuel, and health services.
Sanctions relief, if offered, would need to be partial, reversible, and tied to observable behaviour rather than promises.
This phase is not about transformation. It is about preventing freefall. Countries that attempted to pursue sweeping reform before stabilization have repeatedly failed.
The lesson from Libya and Iraq is not that reform is unnecessary, but that timing matters. Without basic order, reform becomes another source of conflict.
Public discourse during this phase must also be restrained. Overpromising democracy in the immediate aftermath of regime change raises expectations that fragile institutions cannot meet. When expectations collapse, spoilers gain ground.
If collapse is avoided, a second and far more difficult phase becomes possible. Democratic restoration in Venezuela will not be achieved through elections alone. The country’s breakdown was not only electoral. It was institutional and economic. Rebuilding democracy therefore requires rebuilding the rules of the game.
This means restoring judicial independence, rebuilding the electoral authority, and redefining civil-military relations so that political competition does not depend on coercion.
Accountability will matter, but it must be sequenced. Immediate, expansive prosecutions risk destabilizing any transition. Comparative experience suggests that truth mechanisms and targeted accountability are more effective than maximal justice in fragile contexts.
Economic reform is equally central. Without transparent oil governance and gradual diversification, political competition risks reverting to patronage and polarization. Oil must shift from being a political instrument to a public asset. Without this shift, democratic institutions will remain vulnerable.
There are examples where sequencing has worked. Chile delayed full judicial reckoning until institutions were stabilized. South Africa prioritized reconciliation to prevent renewed conflict. Where transitions rushed accountability without institutional repair, democratic consolidation often faltered. Venezuela’s path, if it succeeds, will likely take years, not electoral cycles.
At its core, Venezuela’s crisis offers a broader lesson. When politics shifts from interest-based bargaining to ideological confrontation, governance becomes zero-sum.
Both domestic actors and external powers become locked into positions where de-escalation is framed as defeat. The outcome is not victory, but mutual loss: Institutional collapse, mass displacement, and long-term instability.
Venezuela’s future is neither predetermined nor open-ended. The plausible paths ahead are narrow. One leads to collapse through overreach and fragmentation. The other requires restraint, sequencing, and a willingness to accept imperfect arrangements in the short term to enable recovery in the long term.
The central challenge is not choosing between stability and democracy, but recognizing that without stability, democracy has no foundation.
Venezuela’s recovery, if it comes, will depend less on rhetoric and more on patience, compromise, and institutional repair. History suggests that this path is difficult, but it is the only one that has worked elsewhere.
Siamul Huq Rabbany is a development and governance analyst focusing on political economy, democratic transitions, and state reform. The views expressed in this article are his own. Email: [email protected] .
