A month after a dramatic U.S. special forces operation that seized former Venezuelan president Nicolás Maduro, the crisis has taken an unexpected turn. What Washington presented as a decisive strike against drug-trafficking networks has morphed into a complex geopolitical bargaining game in which Maduro’s detention looks less like the end of his political life than a lever for negotiation.
The immediate cause of the reversal was domestic: Venezuela’s state institutions and, crucially, its armed forces rallied behind acting president Delcy Rodríguez. In live national broadcasts the defence minister pledged the military’s ‘‘absolute loyalty’’ to Rodríguez, and the interior minister vowed to safeguard order. With control of the armed forces, Rodríguez acquired the practical means to resist external pressure and to negotiate from a position of strength.
Beijing’s intervention sharpened the diplomatic dimension. At a February 3 press briefing, Chinese foreign ministry spokesperson Lin Jian branded the U.S. raid a ‘‘hegemonic act’’ that violated international law and Venezuelan sovereignty, and pledged Chinese support for Caracas. That unequivocal language transformed China from a sympathetic observer into an assertive actor, framing the episode as a contest over international norms as well as resources.
Oil lies at the heart of the dispute. Caracas sits atop the world’s largest proved crude reserves, and U.S. outreach to major oil companies in the wake of Maduro’s capture — including a reported closed-door meeting in Washington with Chevron and ExxonMobil executives — was widely read in Caracas and Beijing as an attempt to fast-track control of Venezuelan energy assets. U.S. hopes were tempered when oil majors demurred, citing instability and legal risk.
Washington’s tactical moves have also shifted. After Rodríguez consolidated military support, the U.S. returned a Venezuelan tanker that had been seized at sea, an action interpreted in Caracas as an early olive branch and in some quarters as an attempt to open a channel for negotiation. The effect was to recast Maduro from an immediate liability to a tradable political asset: useful for Washington if it can be leveraged to secure energy access or a broader political deal.
The diplomatic contours are now three-way. The United States seeks influence over Venezuelan energy and regional policy; Caracas seeks to defend sovereignty and political survival; and Beijing seeks to check U.S. unilateralism while protecting its own economic and strategic footprints in Latin America. The result is a standoff in which military loyalty inside Venezuela and diplomatic backing from China have combined to blunt the U.S. operation’s intended effect.
For external observers, the episode underscores a wider strategic lesson: kinetic interventions can precipitate complicated local reactions that convert a tactical victory into a strategic stalemate. With Venezuela’s institutions intact and its military aligned behind Rodríguez, Washington faces hard choices between escalation, which risks confrontation with China and regional instability, and negotiation, which would acknowledge Beijing’s role as a power broker in the Western Hemisphere.
The next phase will be decisive. If Washington pursues a negotiated settlement it will need to calibrate concessions on sanctions and energy access against domestic political constraints. If it doubles down on pressure, confrontation with a China-supported Caracas risks opening a protracted diplomatic, economic and possibly military contest. Either way, the seizure of Maduro has not produced the neat outcome its initiators promised; it has exposed how local force, regional politics and great-power rivalry can recombine to reshape modern geopolitics.
