Caracas Chronicles

In another article, we proposed as a thought experiment imagining Venezuela’s political configuration if, for whatever reason, chavismo left power. A scenario in which the current opposition forces—unaccustomed to programmatic and ideological debate—would likely end up fragmenting.

That is why it’s necessary for political parties to exercise their debate muscles again, to untangle the real, material problems of our country. For example, a question that occasionally surfaces in public discussion—and is unavoidable at the very core of any transition in Venezuela: What role would the Bolivarian National Armed Forces (FANB) have in a post-chavista democracy?

According to a 2024 report by Transparencia Venezuela, out of 5.5 million public employees, 4.4 million belong to the military sector. For this payroll, $46 million was allocated for salaries—which would mean just $10 a month per employee unless the figure includes militia members. Even so, the remaining payroll cannot truly represent active military personnel since that would mean Venezuela has twice the military personnel of China.

What it may reflect is that, as the FANB has taken control of various civic-military bodies such as the Communal Military Brigades (BRICOMILES), as well as the administration of a wide range of state-owned companies, that number includes both soldiers and civilians under military authority.

If World Bank estimates are correct—that Venezuela’s economically active population, after the exodus abroad, is around 11.1 million—this would mean that over 40% of Venezuelan workers answer to the authority and interests of the FANB. This will be a heavy legacy destined to limit the political capabilities of future democratic governments.

What matters is recognizing that it will be difficult to produce substantial changes within the Venezuelan military in the years that follow chavismo’s departure.

Given the way things stand, the Venezuelan transition could end up looking less like the Argentine case—in which civilians were able to overcome the military due to the dictatorship’s economic and military failures—and more like the Chilean one. There, the Armed Forces retained prerogatives over civilian authorities for at least a decade (which only changed gradually through reforms) while remaining under the command of Augusto Pinochet himself, who also became a lifetime senator as part of the transition deal.

For the purposes of this analysis, it doesn’t matter whether the transition happens by entirely replacing the military leadership with the mid-level officers currently in the ranks, or with the top brass keeping their posts as Pinochet did. What matters is recognizing that it will be difficult to produce substantial changes within the Venezuelan military in the years that follow chavismo’s departure.

Whether there’s a negotiated or abrupt renewal of the high command, the corruption networks and human rights violations will likely implicate even mid-level officers. These officers, acting in their own interest, might agree to hand over top military leaders as a peace offering to the new democracy—but in exchange for settling the matter for good (darle punto y final, in other words).

They may accept that military courts (never the civilian ones, as in Argentina) investigate possible mid-level officers, but such investigations are unlikely to deliver results that satisfy human rights activists—at least in the short term. Still, those same results could be enough for a democratic government if they serve as the basis for an agreement of democratic coexistence between civilian and military power.

FANB as an ideological actor

The FANB would not only outlast chavismo as a potential pressure group on a democratic government—seeking to preserve its prerogatives over civilian authority, budgets, control over key state companies serving its interests, and impunity for most of its members accused of human rights abuses, corruption, and drug trafficking. The FANB also seems likely to exert ideological tutelage over post-Maduro democratic governments.

This is due to the FANB’s internal structure. The lower and middle ranks across the different branches will be the same people trained and ideologically formed under chavismo. We cannot predict the extent to which these subaltern ranks—mostly from low-income backgrounds—will adhere to chavista values in a democracy.

Some may have joined the FANB purely for pragmatic reasons and seeking social mobility, while others may have joined inspired by the chavista cause. Here’s where we can expect the first point of tension: the day a democratic government proposes a comprehensive military reform, whether that means tightening professionalism (for which subaltern ranks may be unprepared) or cleansing the institution from ideology (which committed members would resist).

Among the mid-level and new high-ranking officers, ideology is likely to have weight inversely proportional to their involvement in corruption and human rights abuses. Even so, these officers will not be the first champions of neutral professionalism in the post-chavista era. Alongside their peers, they will probably uphold—if only rhetorically—the defense of chavista values, insofar as this preserves their legitimacy as military leaders in the eyes of the subaltern ranks.

If they deem it necessary, FANB generals could once again break with the United States and democracy, seize power, and shelter within their original international security bloc under China and Russia.

This means that, regardless of the underlying reasons, different levels of the FANB will tend to converge in professing the same anti-imperialist Bolivarian ideology. In the new democracy, the FANB’s economic and political interests will likely be concealed, and disguised as a defense of Bolivarian values.

It’s also possible that all ideology could be discarded in the face of the business networks—with national and international capital—in which the FANB’s mid- and high-ranking officers have become involved.

However, the paranoia ingrained over the past years due to persistent U.S. surveillance and pressure will probably make them reluctant to fully commit to any coexistence agreement with the West. They may fear that, in an unexpected moment of vulnerability, Washington could betray them.

With that in mind, retaining a certain ideological residue—both in rhetoric and in ties with China, Russia, and strategic allies in Latin America—could be seen by the FANB as a way to keep their hand on the transition’s “emergency brake.” If they deem it necessary, FANB generals could once again break with the United States and democracy, seize power, and shelter within their original international security bloc under China and Russia.

A new government between two poles

If the main opposition leaders today—specifically María Corina Machado and the old G4—were to take over the national government, whatever internal arrangement the governing coalition might have, in the medium term they would have to deal with that FANB defending its chavista-era privileges, while also being heavily pressured by the United States to ensure the transition takes place with certain safeguards that will clearly contradict the FANB’s interests.

It is already known that a good amount of regime change strategies have been discussed, or even fully negotiated, with some form of U.S. representation—and that favors granted to the opposition cause will have to be repaid if the opposition takes power.

Moreover, significant parts of the diaspora and of the domestic opposition—because of the migration trauma and humanitarian crisis—have shifted sharply toward the far right, embracing and promoting figures like Trump, Bolsonaro and Milei, all firmly aligned with the current administration’s foreign policy. These groups will clearly shape the public image and electability of opposition leaders, nudging their foreign policy leanings.

If the current opposition was to take power, it would need to learn how to navigate between U.S. and FANB interests, and prove itself equally useful and necessary to both.

Third, the access of a democratic Venezuelan regime to Western financial markets will likely be conditioned by institutions like the International Monetary Fund, the World Bank, and the Inter-American Development Bank, as well as by major private lenders like JP Morgan. In Latin American history, such conditions have rarely been purely economic, and have often included demands for a certain degree of alignment with U.S. foreign policy.

As we have seen in recent years, the United States has no problem allowing Western capital to enter Maduro’s Venezuela, and chavismo has had no trouble guaranteeing smooth business operations for them in the country. There is therefore no obstacle to a similar arrangement—even one far more comfortable in terms of international public opinion—taking place directly between a FANB detached from the PSUV’s current leadership and the United States.

This means that if the current opposition was to take power, it would need to learn how to navigate between U.S. and FANB interests, two poles and prove itself equally useful and necessary to both. Because the moment one or both find the new regime dispensable, or even a hindrance to their interests, they could remove it in favor of a new governing arrangement between the military and the White House.

We’ll save that crystal ball discussion for another day.