Caracas Chronicles

On July 9, 2024, an X poll triggered an immediate response within Venezuela’s Ministry of Popular Power for Communication and Information (Minci)—the body responsible for coordinating the government’s communication strategy. The survey, published by Venezuelan digital outlet La Patilla, asked users who they would vote for in the upcoming presidential election. Initial responses favored opposition candidate Edmundo González Urrutia. But soon after, instructions began to circulate from within the ministry.

Through Siscom—an internal communications system run by the ministry to distribute messaging and coordinate Maduro’s media campaigns—senior Minci officials issued a series of messages aimed at thousands of public employees, PSUV activists, and aligned media operators.

“Let’s remember that the opposition pays for inorganic accounts. And we are not robots, we are human beings. We must all activate to achieve our goals in the social media environment,” ordered Johannyl Rodríguez, Vice Minister of Communication and Information, in a voice note sent at 4:38 p.m. to hundreds of chat groups on the system.

The task was clear: flood the poll with votes for Nicolás Maduro to showcase support on social media. Participants followed the ministry’s directive, in line with the broader strategy of the ruling party’s campaign.

The poll gathered at least 94,395 votes—over 70% in favor of Maduro—but was deleted hours later by La Patilla, after detecting suspicious spikes in participation. Venezuelan fact-checking outlets also reported on the irregularity.

“What did @LaPatillaTV do in the face of public failure? They deleted the post. Ravell being Ravell,” posted Freddy Ñáñez, Minister of Communication and Information, on X, referring to Alberto Federico Ravell, director of the outlet that published and deleted the poll.

Soon after, the link to Ñáñez’s post was sent out via Siscom groups—once by Vice Minister Rodríguez, who asked followers to amplify it, and again by Ñáñez himself. Their coordinated effort helped the post garner over 1,000 reposts and more than 248,000 views.

The poll incident was just one of many. La Hora de Venezuela was able to trace its development—from the initial internal orders to the coordinated public push—through an unprecedented Siscom leak.

The leak, totaling over 9 gigabytes, includes messages, voice notes, manuals, and internal instructions sent over a 12-month period up to May 2025. The materials expose how content is distributed across nearly 600 groups made up of government officials, PSUV activists, and employees of state and community media outlets.

An analysis of the leaked material reveals a system designed to amplify the government’s narratives, respond to political developments, and shape the digital conversation from a centralized command. The documents detail how Maduro uses this network to position content online, counter critical narratives, and reinforce control over the information landscape.

A system built to amplify without question

Venezuela’s Ministry of Popular Power for Communication and Information (Minci) serves as the hub of the government’s communication strategy.

Two key agencies under Minci’s control reflect the dual nature of this strategy. One is the Bolivarian System of Communication and Information (Sibci), which brings together state-run outlets across radio, television, and print—many of which are also active online. The other is Conatel, the telecommunications regulator, which has been accused by digital rights and press freedom groups of censoring TV channels and radio stations, and of blocking independent news websites on the internet.

Siscom gives the ministry a direct line to the pro-chavista media apparatus. It functions as a closed content distribution network, structured like WhatsApp conversations. Through this platform, Minci officials rapidly and unquestioningly send instructions, talking points, and multimedia content to hundreds of people affiliated with the ruling party, government ministries, regional governments, state media, and grassroots organizations.

The Siscom app, launched in March 2024 on platforms like the Google Play Store and App Store, had accumulated over 10,000 downloads by May 2025. One of its promotional images describes it as “the Bolivarian System of Communication and Information (Sibci) right in the palm of your hand.”

The campaign, launched in response to the deportation of Venezuelan migrants from the U.S. to El Salvador, included two hashtags: #BukeleKidnapper and #BukeleTrumpAsslicker.

According to a data search carried out in May 2025, the Siscom internal network includes 597 messaging groups. Users who join the app are automatically added to several predefined channels. Some are targeted at state media personnel; others cater to staff in regional governments, municipalities, and public institutions. There are also channels dedicated to grassroots structures of the ruling party.

The largest category is the PSUV’s Brigades of Agitation, Propaganda, and Communication (APC), the party’s internal propaganda network, with 234 groups. They’re followed by 214 groups linked to mayors’ offices, 35 associated with ministries, 23 tied to state governments, and 52 connected to social movements and grassroots media networks, such as the “Free Alex Saab” movement, the CLAP Communicators network, and representatives of Misiones and Grandes Misiones programs.

The network also includes groups of employees from state media and entities affiliated with Minci. Twenty of them represent outlets under the Sibci umbrella, including Venezolana de Televisión, Vive TV, Telesur, TVES, and so-called Alternative and Community Media (MAC). Fifteen others correspond to institutions under the ministry’s purview, such as Amazonia Films, La Villa del Cine, and Conatel, the telecom regulator.

Most of the activity on Siscom is concentrated among a few key figures. The bulk of the messages analyzed by La Hora de Venezuela were sent by Minci officials, including Vice Minister Johannyl Rodríguez—author of 1,547 unique posts—and Minister Freddy Ñáñez, who posted 153 messages over the span of a year. The leak also includes 138 voice notes, most recorded by senior ministry officials, and 51 documents and manuals detailing the planning of specific campaigns.

When the government poses as “the people”

“Happy Palm Sunday, sending a hug to the whole Siscom,” Minister Freddy Ñáñez said in a voice message on April 20, 2025, addressed to the system’s internal groups. Then came the directive: “The fascist Nayib Bukele is picking a fight with the president on Instagram, and since eagles don’t chase flies [a famous saying that Hugo Chávez once used against María Corina Machado], we’re going to respond to him with full force, as the people.”

The campaign, launched in response to the deportation of Venezuelan migrants from the U.S. to El Salvador, included two hashtags: #BukeleSecuestrador (#BukeleKidnapper) and #BukeleLameCuloDeTrump (#BukeleTrumpAsslicker). But this wasn’t a spontaneous reaction from ordinary citizens—it was a state-orchestrated operation.

As in previous cases, Siscom activated party loyalists, public employees, and content creators trained in state-run propaganda academies to execute the campaign. Instructions were circulated through groups managed by Minci; the content was then spread across social media and featured on Sibci outlets like Venezolana de Televisión.

The document also included guidelines for “punishing” comments deemed hateful toward Nicolás Maduro. On a large scale, this tactic can drown out criticism and create the illusion that most commenters support the president.

The accounts used to promote these hashtags are often operated by real people who act like bots: posting dozens of messages per day, sometimes managing multiple accounts at once. Some of them receive modest state bonuses for their participation, according to investigations.

Siscom began taking a more direct role in early 2024. It started not only centralizing instructions but also regulating when, how, and where content should be posted.

On June 2, 2024, Vice Minister Johannyl Rodríguez issued step-by-step guidance on how to interact with President Nicolás Maduro’s Instagram posts: “I like it, I comment, I like the most-liked positive comment to set the tone of the conversation, I share it on other social platforms, I save it, and I download the president’s post.”

One of the campaigns coordinated through Siscom was #NicoLike, launched on May 26, 2024. The system distributed specific instructions in PDF format, including a time-block schedule for when various groups should post content with the hashtag on social media. The schedule began at 6:00 am with Minci, followed by community councils, CLAP Communicators, the Bolivarian Militia, mayors’ and governors’ offices, and ministries.

The document also included guidelines for “punishing” comments deemed hateful toward Nicolás Maduro. On a large scale, this tactic can drown out criticism and create the illusion that most commenters support the president.

Dissemination through “green paths”

Several messages circulated on Siscom included instructions on how to carry out actions without leaving official traces. But this strategy wasn’t limited to social media.

On July 4, 2024, as the presidential campaign began, Minister Freddy Ñáñez—referred to as the “executive secretary of electoral strategy” in an internal videoconference invitation sent through the chats—ordered the dissemination of content on social media and the showcasing of “the people’s presence in the streets,” with a clear warning: “The use of logos, images of institutions, governor’s offices, and mayor’s offices is forbidden.” While the mobilization of public employees and state resources is common in PSUV marches, this tactic aimed to conceal the involvement of government officials and make their presence appear spontaneous.

At other times, instructions were given to ensure that certain content only circulated through informal channels—accounts belonging to party militants, anonymous users, or websites outside the Sibci media network—especially when it was necessary to prevent the messages from being directly attributed to the state.

In June 2024, the system was mobilized to influence a “Venezuelan podcast tournament” poll published by the account Global Census, a fake polling outlet that emerged during the presidential campaign.

In September 2024, a video was circulated showing a woman insulting opposition supporters from her car, accompanied by a message from Johannyl Rodríguez: “Full por los caminos verdes”—in other words, share through “unofficial” accounts. In January 2025, Minci launched a protest campaign against Donald Trump over his pardon of two U.S. police officers, distributing talking points that mixed sarcasm and insults directed at Trump, while highlighting contradictions in U.S. policy on human rights.

All of this content and messaging was shared simultaneously across different platforms—including X, despite the fact that, officially, the platform had been blocked on August 8, 2024, by Venezuelan internet providers following an order from Conatel.

Siscom contains evidence showing that Freddy Ñáñez himself ordered content to continue being promoted on that platform after the block by local providers. He did so during a critical moment: the nationwide blackout on August 30, 2024, which the government officially blamed on sabotage.

“We’re going into media combat,” the minister said in a voice note. “Those of you with VPNs who can post on X, do it. Denounce the electrical sabotage carried out by María Corina Machado and Edmundo González Urrutia.”

The poll war

The use of Siscom to coordinate social media campaigns wasn’t limited to defending the government during times of crisis. During the 2024 presidential campaign, the same network was activated to manipulate the results of digital polls published on social media, mainly on X. One of the most notorious cases was the La Patilla poll, previously reported, but it wasn’t the only one.

Throughout June and July, Minci officials distributed instructions for Siscom users to participate in online polls, following the same pattern: vote en masse in favor of Maduro and project a favorable majority ahead of election day.

In June 2024, the system was mobilized to influence a “Venezuelan podcast tournament” poll published by the account Global Census, a fake polling outlet that emerged during the presidential campaign. Among the contenders were well-known comedy podcasts such as Escuela de Nada, as well as Maduro Podcast, hosted by the regime’s candidate. When both made it to the final round, high-ranking Minci officials activated a coordinated voting operation on X.

“We’re going to beat the bots,” urged Minister Freddy Ñáñez. When Maduro’s podcast won, Vice Minister Rodríguez called on the network to capitalize on the victory: “Now everyone must make the most of this spectacular win.” The organizing X account, far from disappearing, remained active and, as of 2025, continues to publish content aligned with the official narrative.

The strategy of manipulating poll results was repeated with several other polls: one published by Eugenio Martínez on July 14, La Patilla’s poll on July 19, another by the account @AlertaMundoNews on July 20, and one conducted by journalist Luis Olavarrieta on July 25.

Siscom was also used to amplify, in a coordinated manner, polls that showed Nicolás Maduro as the winner—some published by polling firms and pseudo-pollsters that spread disinformation, such as Hinterlaces, DataViva, CMIDE 50.1, and the aforementioned Global Census. Their methodologies—and even their authenticity—were questioned in an investigation published by the Venezuelan coalition C-Informa in July of last year.

On the day of the presidential election, electoral disinformation was also shared in Siscom groups, such as the so-called “exit poll” attributed to Lewis and Thompson—a fake digital analysis firm—which was debunked that same day by Venezuelan fact-checkers.

Disseminate without verifying or questioning

On April 30, 2025, amid the announcement of an adjustment to the minimum income, the Ministry of Communication activated its digital machinery. “We need to headline the great effort being made by President Nicolás Maduro,” wrote Johannyl Rodríguez in a message to Siscom groups.

The increase was not a salary hike. The government was referring to the Ingreso Mínimo Integral (IMI), a concept created to combine the base salary with other benefits such as the Bono de Guerra Económica and the Cestaticket.

Organizations like Provea and Acceso a la Justicia have denounced this bonus-based policy as one that undermines labor rights, since the minimum wage—the only constitutionally protected component, used as a reference for severance pay and social security contributions—has remained frozen at around 130 bolívares (roughly $3.50) since 2022, making it the lowest in Latin America.

But the vice minister’s instruction was clear: “DO NOT separate the increase in the Ingreso Mínimo Integral, only report the full amount. It’s important to emphasize that the IMI has increased by 135% in the past year.” This communication strategy was aimed at framing the adjustment as an achievement while concealing the central fact: that the minimum wage itself had not been raised.

On January 23, 2025, a series of “talking points” was distributed in the groups, based on a speech by Nicolás Maduro about the fight against Tren de Aragua and other criminal gangs, and their alleged ties to the Venezuelan “far right.”

The leak confirms those suspicions: while La Patilla took down the poll to protect its audience from manipulation—and many others work daily to fight disinformation—officials at Mippci organize through Siscom to benefit Maduro and undermine his opponents, resorting to the same disinformation they claim—at least officially—to oppose minimum wage itself had not been raised.

The wage adjustment is not the only instance of disinformation circulated through the system’s groups. Senior officials regularly sent manipulated content that thousands of party loyalists and public employees shared on social media, often without realizing it was misleading.

On January 23, 2025, a series of “talking points” was distributed in the groups, based on a speech by Nicolás Maduro about the fight against Tren de Aragua and other criminal gangs, and their alleged ties to the Venezuelan “far right.” The message came with a voice note attributed to criminal leader Wilexis Acevedo, in which he issued threats against several Venezuelan government officials. The same audio had already been shared a day earlier on Minister Ñáñez’s Telegram channel.

However, the recording was neither new nor authentic. It had first circulated on May 8, 2020, during Operation Gedeón, and was posted by an anonymous X account impersonating Acevedo—a deception later admitted by the account itself. In 2024, the debunking of this case was published nearly a week after Ñáñez had shared it and it was distributed via Siscom.

On January 9, 2025, opposition leader María Corina Machado emerged from hiding to lead a rally in Caracas. After the event, she disappeared for several hours, prompting rumors that she had been detained or kidnapped. Soon after, pro-government portals and accounts began circulating a “proof-of-life” video showing her covering her head with her jacket hood.

One of those who helped spread the clip was Vice Minister Johannyl Rodríguez, who forwarded it to the Siscom groups at 5:25 p.m. “Another false flag, a show to cover up their failure,” he immediately wrote.

Ten days later, an investigation revealed that Machado had, in fact, been held in custody by the PNB for nearly two hours before being released—disproving the narrative that it was a “false flag” incident.

A “malicious” information operation

Siscom is the backbone of a state-run influence operation that, according to the Carnegie Endowment for International Peace’s methodology, can be classified as “malicious”: it spreads disinformation, deliberately conceals the authorship of its campaigns, and encourages its members to harass, inflate metrics, and echo slogans without verification.

The examples presented—including the rigged La Patilla poll mentioned at the start of this investigation—illustrate how the system functions: it mobilized thousands of users to manipulate the survey and neutralize a result unfavorable to the ruling party.

While it may not distort the entirety of public discourse, Siscom’s reach contaminates the information ecosystem of those who receive its content—public officials, security forces, and chavista grassroots members—who are bombarded with messages they are expected to amplify immediately, often without questioning their accuracy or the strategic intent behind them.

One of La Patilla’s directors, who requested anonymity for security reasons, explained: “It was obvious to us that the poll we published in July was being manipulated. We had already published two similar polls in which the opposition candidate had received over 92% of the vote. We also had a screenshot of the July poll before the manipulation began.”

“They’ve got repression, they block free media, and for what they can’t control, they have a machine with unlimited funds that allows them to manipulate. They never play on a level playing field,” he added.