The socio-demographic picture of Venezuela has shifted over the past 25 years due to the devastating impact of Chavismo. This transformation helps us understand the behavior of Venezuelans, including the exile of the elected president, Edmundo González Urrutia, to Spain. 

Chavismo has led to several phenomena, such as the impoverishment of the middle class, the mass emigration of millions of Venezuelans—many of them young—resulting in an aging population, the rise of new elites fueled by corruption, the increasing dependence of the poor on government handouts, and the emergence of the military as a privileged class.

A brief history

The bulk of opposition to Chavismo since Hugo Chávez took office in 1999 has come from the middle class. It began with the 2001 protest under the slogan “stay away from my children,” opposing education reform. This was followed by the 2002 uprising of PDVSA’s managerial employees, who were dismissed, persecuted, and humiliated. Then came Chávez’s defeat in the 2007 constitutional referendum (which the late president called a “shitty victory”). The protests continued with the young demonstrators of 2007 (when RCTV was shut down) and again in 2017, opposing Maduro’s censorship, hunger, and repression. The middle class bore the burden, suffering deaths, imprisonments, and exile.

An estimated eight million Venezuelans—almost 27% of the population—have left the country since Chávez took power, with the rate skyrocketing under Maduro. These waves of migration reflect widespread discontent across all social groups.

The election results of June 28

A majority of voters, fed up with the government’s mismanagement, repression, and corruption during Maduro’s chavista reign, voted for change. On July 29, the first wave of dissatisfaction surfaced over what appeared to be blatant electoral fraud by the National Electoral Council (CNE). Venezuelans from the poor neighborhoods of Petare, in the eastern part of Caracas, walked the streets to protest the theft of the election results.

In various regions, statues of Chávez were torn down, and giant posters of Maduro were destroyed. Thousands were arrested and accused of terrorism and inciting hatred, including hundreds of minors. During the protests, 20 people lost their lives.

Later, peaceful rallies organized by María Corina Machado took place in Caracas and other cities. Maduro’s regime deployed national guards, police, and motorized supporters to block the protesters. The campaign of repression continues, now focusing on arresting opposition leaders.

In this climate of fear, Machado’s gatherings are no longer as large. In poor neighborhoods, the system of social control through the so-called “communal power” and CLAP food distribution committees has contributed to a fear-driven campaign. Informers, known as “toads,” are actively accusing neighbors who served as electoral witnesses or who voiced dissatisfaction with the electoral fraud.

“Normality” under Maduro

The dwindling middle class, still the backbone of the fragile protest movement against the electoral theft, must return to work to survive. Others are contemplating leaving the country, with signs of this already visible at the borders with Colombia and Brazil. The physical and psychological toll has been brutal for those who had hoped the July 28 election would open the door to democratic transition. The poor, more dependent on subsidies and gifts from Maduro’s regime, and more vulnerable to the spy network of chavista officials, have no choice but to adapt to the “normality” imposed by the regime.

Economic activity in Venezuela is heavily dependent on factors rooted in the interests of those close to the regime and its cronies. The role of money laundering in the Venezuelan economy cannot be ignored. While it is impossible to quantify—since this money doesn’t pass through fiscal controls—it is clear that many businesses and services act as fronts for laundering funds derived from corruption and crimes like drug trafficking, illegal gold sales, and human trafficking.

A new class of wealthy individuals, directly or indirectly tied to the dominant political-military establishment, invests and consumes in a country that has become a closed estate, from which they cannot leave without risking arrest for their connections to crime and human rights violations.

A new middle class has also emerged, comprised of mid-level bureaucrats from the chavista apparatus. In a context where the state has become the country’s largest employer, this group forms the core of Maduro’s support base, making up part of the 30% of the votes he secured in the recent elections. While their salaries are not high, their positions within the “revolutionary” network give them access to the scraps left from the large-scale deals made by government elites. This emerging middle class, in its way, also contributes to the illusion of economic normality.

The military class and the “surnames”

In the new stratification of Venezuelan society, the military class must be included, especially the top brass and senior officers. The Bolivarian Armed Forces, aside from being Maduro’s repressive apparatus, also serve as a source of income for soldiers of all ranks. High-ranking officers have access to lucrative deals involving customs, arms purchases, legal and illegal gold sales, and drug trafficking. Many mid-level officers aspire to rise to higher ranks to secure their piece of the pie. The minority of officers who have rejected corruption are either imprisoned, dead from torture, or in exile.

In the same vein, the role of the “surnames” (as Maduro calls them) of traditionally wealthy families cannot be overlooked. Some chose to cooperate with the regime and integrate into its policies, such as Alberto Vollmer (Ron Santa Teresa) and Horacio Velutini (president of the Caracas Stock Exchange). Others, like the Cisneros family, have continued doing business in Venezuela but with a lower profile. They still own the television network Venevisión, though its ratings have dropped, and it maintains a carefully curated news policy that avoids upsetting the government.

The so-called “bolichicos,” many from well-off families of the old bourgeoisie, have had to relocate abroad after enriching themselves through multimillion-dollar deals, particularly with the purchase of electric power plants. Others have become prominent media entrepreneurs, serving as mouthpieces for chavista propaganda.

The most famous Venezuelan billionaire, Lorenzo Mendoza, owner of Empresas Polar, has managed to expand his brands globally, thanks in part to the massive Venezuelan diaspora. Some of the wealthy have gotten even richer under Chavismo, either by collaborating with it or by exploiting the economic consequences of Chavismo. This is 21st-century socialism at its peak.

Revolutionary paradoxes

Chavismo has ended up endorsing a political leader from Caracas’s upper class, María Corina Machado. Against all odds, after intense grassroots campaigning, she won the opposition primaries and convinced the majority that there was a chance for change on July 28. A wealthy, white woman, not representative of the majority of poor, mixed-race Venezuelan women, Corina Machado managed to connect with the people and transfer her votes to the then-unknown retired diplomat Edmundo González Urrutia.

During the campaign, Corina Machado and  González Urrutia’s personas stood in stark contrast to Nicolás Maduro, who portrayed himself as a man of the people. Corina Machado, known for her blunt and tough speech, with an upper-class accent, has been direct in her rhetoric, as she was when she famously called Chávez a thief in the National Assembly in 2012 for his expropriations. Meanwhile,  González Urrutia, a more measured man, speaks slowly and chooses his words carefully.

Maduro, the self-proclaimed “revolutionary,” attempted to project himself as a fierce fighting rooster (“gallo pinto”), but his failures as a leader and the rampant corruption of his regime dragged him down in the electoral race. Venezuelans voted for change to escape the chavista trap, but the immense effort to mobilize and organize to defend the vote has yet to translate into a return to democracy. Instead, it has reinforced the tyrannical behavior of the regime.

Most of the opposition, now made up of a diminished middle class and the poor, has chosen to wait, cowed by fear. After so many deaths and imprisonments, the “brave people” (as mentioned in Venezuela’s national anthem) have opted for caution. They may become even more cautious following the exile of elected president Edmundo González Urrutia. Yet, as a Venezuelan saying warns those who believe they are victorious through abuse and tyranny: “I’ll see you on the way down.” What goes up must come down.

*Due to the political situation in Venezuela, the author has decided to publish the text using a pseudonym.