This would suit American generals keen to limit US troop exposure, as well as foreign powers anxious to avoid a power vacuum. But it offers little to the Venezuelan opposition or to regional governments that have borne years of refugee flows.
Above all, it would squander the leverage Washington has just expended effort and money to obtain. Having taken the extraordinary step of abducting a head of state, simply reverting to a slightly reshuffled “Chavismo” would look, even by the standards of foreign American interventions, oddly anticlimactic.
Protesters rally outside the White House after the US attack on Venezuela.Credit: AP
2. A popular uprising topples ‘Chavismo’
A second possibility is that the shock of Maduro’s removal cracks the government’s aura of inevitability and triggers a mass uprising that sweeps Chavismo from power. With the presidency vacant and the security forces demoralised or divided, a broad coalition of opposition parties, civil-society groups and disaffected Chavistas could push for a transitional council, perhaps under Organisation of American States or United Nations auspices.
Yet as neat and tidy as this sounds, such revolutions – especially those supported by outside interference – rarely proceed tidily. Years of political repression, organised crime, economic misery and emigration have hollowed out Venezuela’s middle class and organised labour. Armed colectivos – paramilitary groups with a stake in the old order – would resist fiercely. The result might not be a swift democratic breakthrough, but an unstable transition: a fragile caretaker government, sporadic violence and intense infighting over amnesties and control of the oil sector.
3. US escalation to install a friendly opposition
Another scenario has Washington leveraging its new position to push forcefully for complete regime change. That could mean tightening sanctions on remaining power brokers, expanding strikes against security installations and militias, covertly supporting insurgent factions, and using Maduro’s prospective trial as a global stage on which to delegitimise Chavismo once and for all.
In this scenario, a recognised opposition leader would be ushered into office following some form of managed election, transitional council or negotiated handover – potentially someone like the Nobel Prize-winning Maria Corina Machado. The US and its allies would dangle debt restructuring and reconstruction funding in exchange for market reforms and geopolitical alignment.
The risks are obvious. An overtly US-produced transition would taint the new leadership’s legitimacy at home and abroad. It would deepen polarisation, entrench the narrative of imperial imposition that Chavismo has long peddled, and invite proxy meddling by China, Cuba, Iran and Russia. A bruised but not broken Chavista movement could pivot into armed resistance, turning Venezuela into another theatre of low-level insurgency.
A recognised opposition leader such as Maria Corina Machado could be ushered into office following some form of managed election.Credit: AP
4. US custodianship and managed transition
A managed transition is the option Trump has now openly floated, with Washington taking an interim custodial role in Venezuela. In practice, it would resemble a trusteeship in all but name. Early priorities would be to impose a basic chain of command and restore administrative capacity, stabilising the currency and payments system, and sequencing reforms to prevent state collapse during the handover.
The political timetable would be central. Washington would heavily influence interim governance arrangements, electoral rules and the timing of presidential and legislative votes, including reconstituting electoral authorities and setting minimum conditions for campaigning and media access. The US would not necessarily need to occupy the country, but it might require American forces on the ground to deter spoilers.
The economic logic of this way forward would hinge on rapidly restoring oil output and basic services through US technical support, private contractors and selective sanctions relief tied to compliance benchmarks. Companies such as Chevron, the only US major oil company still positioned inside Venezuela, or oilfield service providers like Halliburton would probably be early beneficiaries.
Companies such as Chevron, the only US major oil company still positioned inside Venezuela, or oilfield service providers like Halliburton would probably be early beneficiaries should US custodianship be the favoured scenario.Credit: Bloomberg
Yet the hazards are profound. As with the US-friendly opposition above, a US custodianship could inflame nationalist sentiment and validate Chavismo’s anti-imperial narrative. The implicit threat of force might deter spoilers, but it might also deepen resentment and harden resistance among armed groups, Maduro remnants or anyone else opposed to US occupation.
5. Hybrid conflict and managed instability
A final outcome may be a messy hybrid of some or all of the above: a protracted struggle in which no actor fully prevails. Maduro’s removal could weaken Chavismo but not erase its networks in the military, bureaucracy and low-income barrios. The opposition could be energised but divided. The US under Trump will be militarily powerful but constrained by domestic fatigue with foreign wars, the upcoming midterm elections and doubts about the legality of its methods.
In this scenario, Venezuela could lurch into years of managed instability. De facto power might be shared among a weakened Chavista elite, opposition figures co-opted into a transitional arrangement, and security actors controlling local fiefdoms. Sporadic US strikes and covert operations could continue, calibrated to punish spoilers and protect preferred partners, but avoiding the scale of occupation.
Monroe Doctrine 2.0?
Whatever the future, what seems clear for now is that the anti-Maduro operation can be seen by supporters and critics alike as a kind of Monroe Doctrine 2.0. This version, a follow-up to the original 19th-century doctrine that saw Washington warn European powers off its sphere of influence, is a more muscular assertion that extra-hemispheric US rivals, and their local clients, will not be permitted to have a say on America’s doorstep.
A fire burns at Fort Tiuna, Venezuela’s largest military complex, after a series of explosions in Caracas on Saturday.Credit: AFP
This aggressive signal is not limited to Caracas. Cuba and Nicaragua, already under heavy US sanctions and increasingly reliant on Russian and Chinese support, will read the Venezuelan raid as a warning that even entrenched governments are not safe if their politics don’t sufficiently align with Trump. Colombia, notionally a US ally yet currently led by a left-leaning government that has railed against the US Venezuela policy, finds itself squeezed.
Smaller and midsized states, too, will take note – and not just those in Latin America. Panama, whose canal is critical to global trade and US naval mobility, may feel renewed pressure to move towards Washington and police Chinese inroads in ports and telecommunications. Canada and Denmark, via Greenland, will hear echoes in the Arctic.
In the meantime, for Venezuelans, there seems to be yet another turning of the screw by the US, with a bare-minimum guarantee of insecurity and precarious limbo for the foreseeable future.
Robert Muggah is the co-founder of the Igarapé Institute think tank and a fellow at Princeton University.
The Conversation is an independent and nonprofit source of news, analysis and commentary from academic experts. Read the original article here.
