Without even a pretense of a reason other than to preven people protesting, chavismo is effectively shutting down all the main routes into Caracas. El que es un bebé de pecho no es Erdoğan, sino Chris Christie.
It’s hard to explain what you feel when you’re 23 years old and went through your first tear gas volley 14 years ago, at age 9. Carlos Egaña explains it’s been like, growing up in our Venezuela.
There’s something happening here. What it is ain’t exactly clear.
I went door knocking for Voluntad Popular in El Calvario, a shantytown in municipio El Hatillo. People asked about our political prisoners by first name, like they're friends from down the street.
Nicolás Maduro cut a lonely figure in Plaza Caracas yesterday. What does it mean that his ministers don't even bother to force their civil servants to walk a few blocks to listen to his speeches anymore?
The run up to 1S has laid it bare: Venezuela is no longer a country of two roughly equal halves. Everybody seems to have grasped this, except MUD.
It's easy to lose sight of it in the heat of the moment, and given the pervasive cynicism of the zeitgeist. But the fight against this military dictatorship is just as suffused with heroism as the last.
The sight of the dictatorship closing ranks against its newest political prisoner, Yon Goicoechea, on the basis of planted evidence is profoundly enraging.
VP leader Yon Goicoechea is the latest victim of the government’s Cuban-style preventive repression rampage in the run-up to September 1st.
As SEBIN thugs bang on Daniel Ceballos's door at 3 in the morning and trundle him off to jail, it's hard to shake the sense that the government has fully embraced its Pariah State status.
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