Inside Venezuela, the Nobel Peace Prize Celebration Was Quiet
Many tried to find a pragmatic meaning in the award for María Corina amid economic hardship and state surveillance. Fear ultimately muted celebrations


AME6787. CARACAS (VENEZUELA), 10/10/2025.- El activista Rafael Araujo camina con una cometa con un mensaje referente al premio Nobel de la Paz 2025 a la líder opositora María Corina Machado, en Caracas (Venezuela). Machado aceptó con "profunda gratitud", el Premio Nobel de la Paz 2025 "en nombre del pueblo de Venezuela, que -dijo- ha luchado por su libertad con admirable coraje, dignidad, inteligencia y amor". EFE/ Miguel Gutiérrez
Venezuela has long taken pride in being known as the country of the supposed most beautiful women. It has lost count of its crowns and triumphs in international beauty pageants. The country has also celebrated local athletes entering the Major League Baseball Hall of Fame, breaking sports records, and winning Olympic medals that once brought the streets to a standstill.
But this Friday, a different kind of recognition caught Venezuelans by surprise. It came through a prize that had always felt distant: the Nobel Peace Prize, awarded to opposition leader María Corina Machado.
The Norwegian Committee justified its decision on three grounds: Machado’s ability to lead the Venezuelan opposition through the electoral process, her rejection of militarization, and her firm commitment to a fair and peaceful transition that could restore democracy in Venezuela.
“Hopefully this award brings us freedom,” said an elderly man in downtown Caracas when asked by La Hora de Venezuela about Machado’s Nobel Peace Prize.
In fact, it is the absence of freedom and the ever-present fear that made many Venezuelans admit they were celebrating the Nobel Peace Prize in silence.
“When I saw the news about María Corina’s Nobel, the first thing I wanted was to shout it from the window. But then I thought about the CLAP ladies [members of the Local Supply and Production Committees linked to the ruling PSUV party] who could report me [to the government], and I felt this huge fear. It’s such a shame that we have to celebrate this in silence,” said another resident, who asked to remain anonymous.
“Of course, I’m happy for María Corina, but I can’t say it too loud. You know how it is, they could arrest you for that. She’s in people’s hearts,” said a Sabana Grande street vendor.
“She’s Venezuelan, a woman, a professional, and a leader. María Corina brings us immense joy today with that award. The only sad thing is not being able to celebrate it properly. With fireworks, with music, with a caravan like the ones we had during the presidential campaign. Now you can’t even post about it on WhatsApp without worrying someone might come after you,” said a young man from central Caracas.
While calm and routine filled the city center, in a street in La Castellana, to the east, the well-known papagayo man or señor del papagayo—a protester famous for expressing his opinions through giant kite-like banners—appeared smiling, holding a sign that read Premio Nobel de la Paz 2025 over the national flag’s yellow, blue and red. Although it did not mention Machado, drivers slowed down to take pictures; he posed proudly.
“Oh yes, I heard she won that prize. I found out on the radio. Some agree, others don’t. I think it’s good because she’s done things for this country. She deserves it,” said a woman stepping off a bus on Francisco de Miranda Avenue.
Timid hope and widespread unawareness
As the news of Machado’s Nobel spread across social media, many Venezuelans—detached from daily political updates—expressed ignorance about it, a reflection of the government’s control and censorship over traditional media.
Others, though aware, were cautious about the real impact the award could have on the nation’s harsh reality.
“A kilo of meat is already $14, it was half that two weeks ago. A bag of powdered milk that doesn’t even weigh a full kilo costs $13. The dollar’s price rises every day, and so do food prices. It’s impossible to live like this. Of course, I’m happy for María Corina. I can’t say it too loud. You know how it is, they could arrest you for that. She’s in people’s hearts. I congratulate her for the award, but what difference does it make in our lives?” said a street vendor in Sabana Grande, worried because local authorities only gave her a permit to sell until December 31. After that, she doesn’t know how she’ll make a living.
When people are asked whether María Corina Machado deserves the Nobel Peace Prize, their answers tend to follow political lines: for the opposition and Machado’s supporters, it’s a recognition of her “courage as a leader at risk.” For the few remaining supporters of the Maduro regime, the award is “an aberration,” as they call Machado a “terrorist and coup plotter.”
“It doesn’t matter what Maduro or Diosdado say. For the opposition, this prize is a breath of fresh air. And for them, it’s a slap in the face,” said the sister of a political prisoner.
Still, some Venezuelans refused to let the moment be stolen from them.
“Of course I knew, it went viral on social media. It’s a source of pride and puts the world’s eyes back on Venezuela. I think it’s a tool for international pressure. The government can’t cover it up,” said a 25-year-old mother who still hopes for political change..
“The problem is that many people have lost faith in politics, they’re exhausted. To them, it’s just news that won’t fill the fridge. We have to use this award to reorganize and keep protesting peacefully,”
Other voices were more defiant.
“It doesn’t matter what Maduro or Diosdado say. For the opposition, this prize is a breath of fresh air. And for them, it’s a slap in the face,” said the sister of a man detained since July 2024 during the post-election protests.
“The Nobel Peace Prize honors the political prisoners of 2024, honors the families who keep fighting, honors Machado and all Venezuelans who refuse to accept dictatorship as normal. We got a Nobel because of the Venezuelan people’s stubbornness to reclaim our democracy,”
She admits she’s smiling on the inside, and celebrating the international recognition in silence.
Caracas Chronicles is 100% reader-supported.
We’ve been able to hang on for 22 years in one of the craziest media landscapes in the world. We’ve seen different media outlets in Venezuela (and abroad) closing shop, something we’re looking to avoid at all costs. Your collaboration goes a long way in helping us weather the storm.
Donate