Caracas got a hard lesson in who still holds the rifles.
The Telegraph reported that after the U.S. captured Nicolás Maduro, armed pro-Maduro militias known as Colectivos erected checkpoints and fanned out across the capital to intimidate civilians and hunt for anyone suspected of cheering the operation, even as Delcy Rodriguez was sworn in under a state-of-emergency crackdown.
On Avenida Boyacá, the highway running alongside El Avila National Park, traffic was forced to a standstill by masked men carrying Kalashnikovs who stopped drivers, demanded access to phones and cars, and turned a public road into a political inspection line.
The armed men were described as gangs tied to the Colectivos, and their presence followed a government directive aimed at rooting out Venezuelans said to support the U.S. capture of Maduro.
In the days after what was described as the “decapitation” of the Maduro regime, Caracas residents watched armed mobs in civilian clothes patrol the streets, a reminder that uniforms are optional when power feels entitled.
Oswaldo, a 69-year-old shop owner, said, “The future is uncertain, the Colectivos have weapons, the Colombian guerrilla is already here in Venezuela, so we don’t know what’s going to happen, time will tell,” which is the kind of quote you hear when the state outsources security to political enforcers.
A state of emergency decree published Monday sought to crack down on any public celebration of the U.S. operation and ordered police to “immediately begin the national search and capture of everyone involved in the promotion or support for the armed attack by the United States”.
One Venezuelan, speaking anonymously, said she would no longer leave home with her phone because a search could expose anti-Maduro texts or photos and lead to imprisonment.
Paramilitaries arrested 14 journalists and media workers, including 11 from foreign news outlets, holding them for hours before releasing some, while the whereabouts of other journalists were unknown.
Videos circulating on social media showed armed men vowing they would not allow Donald Trump and U.S. “pigs” to enter and plunder Venezuela’s natural resources, a slogan that tries to sound patriotic while normalizing the barrel of a gun as political argument.
Footage also showed interior minister Diosdado Cabello posing with armed militia as they chanted, “Always loyal, never traitors,” a neat motto for a system that treats disagreement as betrayal.
Cabello was described as Maduro’s closest ally, with a $50 million bounty linked to drug trafficking charges, and as largely controlling the Colectivos, which helps explain why the checkpoints looked less like public safety and more like party discipline.
During his arraignment at Manhattan Federal Court, Maduro pleaded innocence and said he was a “prisoner of war,” a line designed to claim battlefield honor while he faces a courtroom instead of a ballot box.
Armed supporters insisted Maduro’s “heart and soul” remained in Venezuela, which is a comforting sentiment until it comes paired with rifles, roadblocks and phone searches.
A man identifying himself as Freddy Rodriguez said he was a member of Cupaz, described as a network set up by Maduro in 2019 to control protests, adding, “There’s enough people here, there’s enough balls here to fight for this revolution, to fight for this motherland,” a bravado-heavy defense of rule by muscle.
By Monday morning, most shops and businesses had reopened in Caracas and earlier long lines of panicked people buying provisions had dissipated, even as police and intelligence officers lined streets in the center of the city.
Two main avenues were closed as Delcy Rodriguez was sworn in by her brother, Jorge Rodriguez, identified as the National Assembly leader, an image of continuity that landed like a verdict for those expecting a clean break.
At the ceremony, Delcy Rodriguez said, “I come with sorrow for the suffering inflicted upon the Venezuelan people following an illegitimate military aggression against our homeland,” and added, “I come with sorrow for the kidnapping of two heroes,” language that casts the crackdown as compassion and the capture as victimhood.
María Corina Machado, described as the Venezuelan opposition leader and a recent Nobel Peace Prize winner, called the militia crackdown “really alarming,” and told Fox News that Delcy Rodriguez was “one of the main architects of torture, persecution, corruption, narco-trafficking,” a blunt assessment that clashes with the official talk of order and sorrow.
On Monday, Colectivos joined a march through Caracas calling for the release of Maduro and his wife, Cilia Flores, a street display that suggested Maduro loyalists were still trying to maintain control of the country.
In Plaza Altamira, Aurora, a care worker from Petare, said she had hoped for regime change but was focused on feeding her family, adding, “Most international leaders don’t agree with what happened, but it happened,” and warning against outside powers claiming Venezuelan oil while others worried Trump would decide what happens next rather than Venezuela holding fair elections, even as Oswaldo said he wanted a transition and elections and would accept results peacefully if they were transparent.
