Winners and Losers from the Opposition’s Norway Trip

Having revisited the speeches and heard how Machado escaped despite “choppy seas and strong winds,” here’s how we think the opposition fared this week

Winners

The first big winner of Frydnes’ speech is the entire spectrum of victims of the Maduro regime. The stories recounted by Nobel Committee chairman Jørgen W. Frydnes may be horrific, but they reflect the day-to-day reality. A foreigner speaking about the dark institutions of police brutality and forced disappearances is more than a special touch—it is a necessary acknowledgment of what the country is enduring. In a year when international press coverage of Venezuela has focused more on U.S. policy (though, to be fair, this has shed light on the mistreatment of Venezuelan migrants) and less on the state of domestic prisons or the routine kidnapping of dissidents and their families, thousands of households surely perceived Frydnes’ words as a validation of their truth..

The Norwegian politician-turned-Venezuela-sensation was well advised. The start of his speech left the entire Oslo City Hall frozen as he recounted how DGCIM agents broke into the home of Samantha Hernández’s grandparents in Caracas and took her away solely for being the sister of a dissident soldier in exile. Next, Frydnes addressed the torture endured by former lawmaker Juan Requesens and the recent death in custody of former Nueva Esparta governor Alfredo Díaz. These cases are notable because they aren’t directly linked to Maria Corina’s unyielding leadership style; both figures have previously faced criticism for “bending the knee” to Maduro. Díaz, in 2017, swore in before a parallel parliament established by chavismo as a condition for taking office in Nueva Esparta—unlike political prisoner Juan Pablo Guanipa, who refused to obey Maduro and could not assume his mandate in Zulia.

Requesens faced backlash this year for running in a local government election that Machado boycotted (it later emerged that his candidacy was a regime precondition for allowing him to travel to the U.S. to reunite with his family). The inclusion of these two figures illustrates how Maduro’s divide-and-rule tactics—often effective in blackmailing opposition members—fostered the simplistic perception that anti-chavismo is a fractured coalition of cowards and hardliners alike. In reality, Alfredo Díaz was no coward, and Juan Requesens is not one either.

Machado’s departure comes at a time when Trump’s undecisiveness is noticeable and where parachute intermediaries may be attempting to sideline her.

Venezuelan Millennials and Zoomers, represented by Ana Corina Sosa Machado. Maria Corina’s daughter is building a career abroad that would make many of her compatriots proud. She belongs to a generation of people that left the country believing Venezuela was a lost cause to a great extent—something to leave behind in search of stability and success elsewhere. This mental and physical displacement of young Venezuelans also reflects a degree of depoliticization (or at least political apathy and disillusionment) among scores of people working and studying abroad. These are the very generations that would ideally lead Venezuela’s recovery, yet their return hinges on guarantees of a “sound economic horizon.”

Ana Corina’s flawless delivery and the emotions she conveyed may not only help build trust in Machado’s leadership among this often-overlooked demographic, but also inspire them to engage with the pro-democracy movement in ways that suit their circumstances—whether from Madrid, Sydney, Bogotá, or New York.

The leadership of María Corina Machado in complicated weeks. The ceremony was all about the individual accomplishments of Machado, the opposition and the movement that defeated Nicolas Maduro in the July 2024 presidential election.  Notably absent from the speeches were mentions of Donald Trump, the U.S., or the so-called “international community,” which can often act as a divisive factor in the conflict. The evening then came with the news that the US seized an oil tanker off Venezuela’s coast meant to transport PDVSA crude, which is an unprecedented move in Trump’s playbook. Machado’s departure from the country comes at a time when the president’s indecision over what to do with Maduro is noticeable, and where parachute intermediaries like Brazilian beef mogul Joesley Batista may be attempting to sideline Machado from the equation of political change.

Moreover, the Pete Hegseth double-tap scandal and recent GOP defeats at the ballot box could complicate upcoming initiatives. In the coming weeks, Maria Corina’s in-person activism on the global stage could be crucial to enhancing the opposition’s international reputation (and her own) and lobbying international actors who distrust her or see her as a threat to their interests. This will mark her first major opportunity to connect with world leaders after a decade unable to travel. So yes, it will be interesting to see how that plays out.

Ana Corina’s speech was a clear “how-we-got-here” story that Venezuelans could embrace as a blueprint for the memory politics of a new era.

The Oslo trip also helps cement Team Machado’s image as a government-in-waiting eager to transform Venezuela. The guacamayas may be the gatekeepers of a small circle of decision-makers, but that circle has stayed close-knit, with zero defections or even disagreements aired in public, and has allowed no leaks at all. It was US officials who disclosed details of Maria Corina’s peñero escape to the Wall Street Journal, seemingly to showcase their intelligence and logistical reach deep within Venezuelan territory.

Ana Corina’s speech also provided a strong account of the causes and consequences of Venezuela’s national tragedy. The narrative of the country’s modern history did not shy away from the shadows of the rentier state—“immense power… which turned into privilege, patronage, and corruption”—the perils of a passive citizenry, and the class-based populism that has fueled internal strife since independence. It is a clear “how-we-got-here” story that Venezuelans could embrace as a blueprint for the memory politics of a new era.

Losers

Diosdado Cabello. The Interior Minister may be regretting his decision not to imprison Maria Corina when he had the chance on January 9. Now the regime’s pistolero-in-chief has been embarrassed twice by Team Machado. First came the guacamayas’ escape from the Argentine Embassy—after Claudia Macero quietly left the embassy days earlier, paving the way for others to follow her trail. Even if Machado wore a convincing wig as part of her disguise, the fact that the Americans helped her slip through ten military checkpoints and reach the coast is a clear humiliation for Cabello.

The escape adds another layer of drama to her clandestine saga and will only heighten public interest in the story of her disappearance. On his Con el Mazo Dando TV program, a visibly sour Diosdado claimed last night that the “mystery” of Maria Corina’s escape was merely a political marketing operation designed to “monopolize media attention” (“she left without the dramas of that supposed epic”). Yet even if the entire episode were a PR stunt, it is undeniably an effective one—one that should deeply embarrass the embattled army captain.

The “Delcy-led” transition. Frydnes’ speech not only praised Maria Corina’s personal trajectory—from her days in Súmate to the July 28 electoral victory—the multiple institutional paths the opposition has pursued in confronting the Maduro regime. It also questioned the usefulness of previous dialogue processes in which his own state, the Kingdom of Norway, played a central mediating role. His remarks echo earlier criticism from the Norwegian government itself, which concluded earlier this year that its efforts “in assisting Venezuelan parties in finding a solution to the conflict” failed to produce a democratic outcome

This can be read as another sign that Western mediators have lost confidence in a pacted solution between Venezuela’s ruling elite and an outlawed opposition.

“In authoritarian systems, dialogue can lead to improvement, but it can also be a trap.  Dialogue is often used to buy time, create division and control the agenda,” Frydnes said. “Maria Corina Machado has participated in dialogue processes for years. She has never rejected the principle of talking to the other side, but she has dismissed empty processes. Peace without justice is not peace. Dialogue without truth is not reconciliation.”

This can be read as another sign that Western mediators have lost confidence in a pacted solution between Venezuela’s ruling elite and an outlawed opposition. And with its emphasis on establishing the truth about the 2024 election, Frydnes’ message pushes back against the notion that another round of high-level talks ignoring González Urrutia’s mandate could yield a “reformed chavismo” from above—one willing to deliver democratic concessions in the long run. Basically, the idea that those pushing for a Delcy Rodríguez-led transition seem to promote.

As for the Rodríguez Siblings Democratic Theory, we’ll talk about that another day, and in proper detail.