What is behind the US Escalation of Threats against Venezuela?

By Ernesto Castañeda

Regarding the question of what is happening between the United States and Venezuela, the answer is that this is a partially unintended, unanticipated international focus at the end of the first year of Trump’s second term. While the governments of the U.S. and Venezuela have not been close for a while, this path opened up as other areas of intervention, such as the Russia-Ukraine war, got stuck at a standstill. 

The potential intervention in Venezuela is not a popular option. There is little support among experts about its merits. Likewise, Venezuelans are not eager to go to war.

This was not a priority for Trump in the past. But three key members of his cabinet and White House staff have zeroed in on Venezuela in the last few months.

As an article in the Washington Post on December 18, 2025, explains convincingly by drawing from inside sources and visible actions, Steven Miller, Deputy Chief of Staff and Homeland Security Advisor, and the main engine behind the aggressive anti-immigrant agenda, wanted to conduct military attacks in Mexico as another way to curb immigration, his long obsession. But as undocumented and asylum-seeker arrivals at the border have approached zero —in part thanks to Mexico’s role—, Miller looked further south. 

Trump campaigned in the 2018 midterms and the 2020 elections, bashing MS-13 and Salvadoran immigration. But this time around, he found an ally in Salvadoran President Bukele. Other Central American governments have also collaborated, so he zoomed in on Venezuela through Tren de Aragua (TdA) as an excuse to expedite deportations. Tren de Aragua-related deportations to CECOT in El Salvador became a fiasco and highly unpopular, not to say unlawful. So, the administration moved to declaring the so-called Cartel de los Soles as a terrorist organization with Venezuelan President Nicolas Maduro as its supposed head. After targeting small boats off the shores of Latin America and the Caribbean, then the excuse became fighting drug trafficking and then to old claims on permits to exploit Venezuelan oil by Exxon-Mobil and other oil companies, without discarding the ideas of regime change as the support for Machado grew internationally, and as the Chief of Staff, Susie Wiles, told Chris Whipple to get rid of Maduro, to put pressure on Venezuela until Maduro would give up or “call uncle.”

On the other hand, Marco Rubio—both National Security Advisor and the Secretary of State, which in other countries would be called Secretary of Foreign Affairs—has long had an obsession with the regime in Cuba, which he sees as related to Venezuela. This is partly because of the financial and oil support that Venezuela gave to Cuba for many years, which, although it continues—it seems that the first oil tanker that was seized was going from Venezuela to Cuba—though the Venezuela support is no longer the support it once was, and it’s not enough to help the Cuban regime, which is in deep economic trouble. Officials in Cuba see this as a move with them ultimately in mind. 

Marco Rubio is especially interested in attacking the Cuban and Venezuelan regimes, and there is nobody left in the White House to contradict him, not Susie Wiles, as John Kelly would have done in the first Trump administration, to stop such a bad idea.

According to the Washington Post article mentioned before, Secretary of Defense Pete Hegseth was happy to jump into the frenzy to protect his job following Signalgate. He was eager to prove himself, show “leadership,” and get more attention in the spotlight and ingratiate himself with Miller. So, he found the idea of bombing the small boats appealing, and he would probably like to lead a small incursion into Venezuela.

The objective is not truly drug trafficking. Most of the cocaine that reaches the United States doesn’t come from Venezuela. There are a few shipments that pass through Venezuela and then to the Caribbean; these drug shipments were going to other islands in the region, and perhaps some of that cocaine would eventually reach Europe, but very little reaches the United States. The Coast Guard has been in charge of seizing these vessels for many years, and the DEA could be conducting more formal investigations, so this idea of ​​the drugs as the rationale to threaten Venezuela is not believable. The American people don’t believe it, and this new pseudo-label of “narco-terrorists” isn’t logically convincing either legally or at the logical or expert levels. Indeed, it seems that the administration is already giving up on that; also, with the pardon for the president of Honduras, the drug angle is less convincing. The contradiction remains, and they are rightly not going to attack Mexico or Colombia over the drug issue in the near future.

Things changed a bit with Maria Corina Machado’s visit to Oslo to receive the Nobel Peace Prize regarding democracy in Venezuela and regime change. And lately, there have been a few statements from Trump about the interests of U.S. oil companies in Venezuela. The U.S. oil lobby has been a key factor in Trump’s re-election. So, another goal is for U.S. oil companies to regain access to Venezuela, although there is already an American company doing business there: Chevron. So, this is not something of a priority. All this to say, there is no master strategy behind it.

It is partly a personal animosity between Trump and Maduro, evident in public declarations and supposed ideological differences, but the two governments have also had occasions when they handled structured negotiations very well. There have been instances of negotiations resulting in detained individuals returning from Venezuela to the United States, deportations with permission of Venezuelans from the United States, and then from El Salvador. So, it’s not that there has been a terrible personal relationship between Trump and Maduro or their intermediaries.

Marco Rubio’s obsession is the main driver. He has made recent public statements presenting new arguments and rationales, but they have seemed improvised and unconvincing. Even an overt, public declaration of a return to the Monroe Doctrine is not enough to justify this; it is mainly good news for Russia and China

To justify an attack on Venezuela and the boats around the coasts, members of the Trump administration have claimed that they wanted to combat terrorism, foreign enemies in the American war on terror, to accelerate deportations, but they still haven’t been able to win that mediatic battle or the legal or logical argument, but they have not done so not even in the local or federal courts. Although the Supreme Court hasn’t stopped them either.

Steven Miller is mainly interested in the idea of a war with Venezuela or with someone else, as a pretext to push through certain laws, such as the Alien Enemies Act and the Insurrection Act, both of which require the U.S. to be at war to be invoked. But this is not even necessary to continue with the mass deportations as they have been. They are deporting many people. Detaining people, they are practically at war with immigrant-based communities, though they are violating human rights and constitutional protections within the country. A declaration of war would not change that reality or make it any more appealing to citizens.

It is very clear that the majority of the American public opinion, even part of the MAGA base, is against the U.S. getting directly involved in any new war. They would be against an invasion or bombing of Venezuela, whether prolonged or even for a short period. It would be more difficult to stop something like an Iran-type one-targeted bombing situation, but removing Maduro probably wouldn’t be as quick or simple.

So, the American people are quite against an intervention in Venezuela. Furthermore, as we see with the debates surrounding the small fishing boats, critics, including legislators in the Senate and House, Democrats and Republicans, see these bombings of ships off the Latin American coasts as extralegal. They are putting a lot of pressure on the Pentagon to release the videos showing the killing of two survivors, and to either stop this type of operation, to explain what is happening, and if the intention is to engage in war, then, to make the case to Congress of why the U.S. needs to wage a war, on what basis, and with what objective.

All indicates it would not be something Congress would easily approve. Trying to get the Republicans in Congress to do that could cost some of them their seats in 2026. So, it’s a war, a strategy without rhyme or reason, hence the clear disorder. Venezuela is very worried about Trump’s pronouncements, but their aimlessness is nothing new. So, no one knows what’s going to happen, not even the Pentagon, which has deployed elements that are not sufficient for sustained ground intervention, though they are spending a lot of money bringing the ships there.

They thought military mobilization would be enough to intimidate Maduro, but it obviously hasn’t been. The Nobel Prize hype around Machado has already passed, and it hasn’t changed anything on the ground. The Venezuelan diaspora is asking for military intervention, but that is not enough. Understandably, from their point of view and personal experiences, they are asking Trump to do something. Those who are more established, have money, and have been here for a while, are still upset they were forced to leave. But the more recent Venezuelan migrants who came here seeking asylum after the pandemic are being denied asylum, their work permits revoked, and deported. So that is also a contradiction about Venezuela supposedly being a narco-state. So, the whole armed intimidation of Venezuela is bullying to the extreme, but it is incoherent as foreign policy.

The majority in the United States are against this war in Venezuela and the attacks on the small boats, oil tankers, and the possibility of bombings or military action. Contrary to what some in the White House bubble seem to believe, a war with Venezuela would not be enough to distract from the economic and political situation in the U.S. It would not totally change the narrative, help speed deportations to what would become a war zone, and the attempts to further concentrate power on the executive could be more directly opposed by the legislative branch which is the one supposed to declare and fund wars. The oil tanker confiscations and chases are just the latest in a series of policies in which the administration’s words, threats, and actions are not enough to scare Maduro or convince the public of the righteousness of these actions. 

Ernesto Castañeda is the Director of the Center for Latin American and Latino Studies at American University, Washington, D.C. The opinions expressed are his alone.

“Se me ha hecho misión imposible”

“Se me ha hecho misión imposible”: How U.S. Immigration Policy Dehumanizes Migrants of Color

By Iran Pacheco Martinez

Image of a stethoscope and paperwork. Retrieved from Cutler Integrative Medicine.

“(a) In General.–Subject to subsection (b), an individual may be entitled to, or enrolled for, benefits under this title only if the individual is–

“(1) a citizen or national of the United States;

“(2) an alien who is lawfully admitted for permanent residence under the Immigration and Nationality Act;


This segment, part of Sec. 112103 of the Trump administration’s Big Beautiful Bill, restricts Medicaid benefits for U.S. citizens and lawful permanent residents. Policies like these, that value legal status over human need, convey the message that undocumented individuals are less deserving of safety, dignity, and support—reducing complex human lives to a legal category that erases their struggles and humanity.

Divisive immigration policies are often written in rooms that exclude individuals with experience or knowledge about immigration. As a result, these laws further criminalize immigrants and enable the mistreatment of immigrants, including in detention facilities, where conditions are often life-threatening, marked by freezing temperatures, inadequate nutrition, and a profound lack of regard for immigrants’ humanity.

Twenty-six interviews with migrants from Venezuela and El Salvador provided valuable insights into their journeys to the United States and their experiences with integration. The findings indicate that many migrate to the United States in pursuit of safety and stability due to limited academic and employment opportunities, gang violence, government corruption, poverty, and hyperinflation in their home countries.

Throughout the interviews, participants shared their experiences accessing medical care, seeking employment, and navigating the U.S. systems—experiences that revealed a broader unwillingness to accommodate their unique circumstances.

Neglecting migrants’ basic needs often begins early in their journey, particularly as they’re taken to and held at detention facilities in the United States. Venezuelan and Salvadoran migrants recall conditions in detention facilities so extreme that the detention experience alone might have dissuaded their journey to the U.S. One migrant shares their experience in detention:

“…si yo hubiera sabido de que cuando me entregaran me iban a poner a pasar tanto frío y esas cosas créeme que no fuera viajado para acá, ¿me entiendes? Porque allí se sobrepasan, como te he dicho, se sobrepasan con el frío, me entiende, con alimentación, cómo te van a dar galletas y papitas, y jugo, comida de mala calidad, sabe, que por lo menos te den comida que te tengan fuerte…


“…if I knew that when they handed me over, they were going to make me go through all that cold and those things, believe me, that I wouldn’t have traveled here, you know? Because there they go overboard, like I told you, they go overboard with the cold, you know, with food, how are they going to give you cookies and chips, and juice, poor quality food, you know, at least they should give you food that keeps you strong…”

—Ruben, Venezuelan Man, 26 years old

One participant expressed concern for the impact that extreme facility conditions may have on young children:

…lo único, como digamos, incómodo, eh, en el caso de que uno tiene niños es que, eh, la migración de aquí, bueno le dicen la hielera, ellos le dicen haci, entonces es como un sitio bastante como extremo para los niños no, que son tan chiquitos, y hace frío allí.”


“…the only thing, let’s say, uncomfortable, eh, in the case that someone has children is that, eh, immigration [officers] from here, well they call it the icebox, they call it that, so it’s like- like a pretty extreme place for children, they’re so little, and it’s cold there.”

—Andrea, Venezuelan Woman, 26 years old

Reducing people to negligible subjects–held in freezing, inhumane detention facilities– simply for pursuing better living conditions.

The challenges faced by migrants do not end upon their entry into the United States. Limited access to resources for migrants is a looming and prevailing barrier to their financial stability and success.

Many migrants reported that language barriers make obtaining employment in the United States especially difficult. In instances where employment opportunities are available, workers encounter exploitative conditions or discriminatory treatment. As one Venezuelan migrant recalled:

…aquí trabajé, fue construcción… Entonces tampoco me gustó porque esa me pagan demasiado poquito, trabajaba en el sol y por lo que yo estaba haciendo sentía que no me pagaban bien…


…I worked here, it was construction… So I didn’t like it either because they paid me too little. I worked in the sun, and because of what I was doing, I felt like they weren’t paying me well…”

—Mauricio, Venezuelan Man, 23 years old

Another Venezuelan migrant recalls an encounter in which an English-speaking desk worker yelled at him as he delivered a mobile app order:

“…te voy a decir algo; me sentí humillado, a veces cuando voy, conserje o gente de seguridad a un edificio que no sé, si algún número en inglés y me maltratan, y siento que… porque me gritan, y yo por respeto me quedo callado…


“ …I’m going to tell you something, I felt humiliated, sometimes when I go, a janitor or security personnel to a building that I don’t know, if a number in English, and they mistreat me, and I feel that… because they yell at me, and out of respect I stay quiet…”

—Ruben, Venezuelan Man, 26 years old

While many claim that, as “guests” in this country, migrants have a responsibility to learn English, the resources to do so are not always widely available or even accessible.

These interviews reveal the many forms of dehumanization that many migrants endure. They are met with detention in harsh conditions, are denied access to language resources essential for employment, and are subjected to mistreatment in the workplace. Rather than being welcomed with dignity, they are met with indifference, exploitation, and disrespect.

Additionally, access to medical care poses another urgent challenge, especially for recently arrived migrants. This has become increasingly concerning, particularly in light of the recent passage of the “Big Beautiful Bill.” One mother from El Salvador explains that she has struggled greatly to obtain medical attention because she lacks a Social Security Number:

…no he podido obtener un seguro de salud porque no tengo el social… se me ha hecho misión imposible, he buscado en unos lugares, eh, me mandaron a un lugar después no hay cita, después me mandaron a otro lugar ‘tiene social, no? No hay cita,’ después otro lugar ‘¿tiene social, no? No hay cita,’ entonces así he estado durante como dos meses aproximadamente, y entonces se me ha hecho imposible, sí.


“…I have not been able to get health insurance because I don’t have a social [security number]… It’s become an impossible mission. I’ve looked in some places, they sent me to one place, then there was no appointment, then they sent me to another place, ‘Do you have a social [security number]? No? There’s no appointment,’ then another place, ‘Do you have a social [security number]? No? There’s no appointment,’ so I’ve been like that for about two months, and so it’s become impossible for me, yes.”

—Andrea, Venezuelan Woman, 26 years old

Using legal status as a measure for determining access to essential support reinforces harmful hierarchies. This perpetuates narratives of “illegal” or “criminal,” which dehumanize immigrants and may limit efforts to create viable pathways to citizenship.

Many people in influential positions are themselves descendants of immigrants who once sought a better life or fled catastrophic conditions in search of safety. Yet some of these same individuals now work to deny others that very opportunity, advancing policies to exclude others. They may have “forgotten” the immigrant experience—the fear and uncertainty, the exclusion, and the forced assimilation. Instead, they write immigration laws driven by biases and the desire to preserve power.

Some lawmakers want a white, English-speaking, and wealthy America, even if achieving it comes at the expense of others. Meanwhile, these same lawmakers refuse to create attainable pathways to citizenship for migrant workers who pay billions in taxes every year. Instead, they dismantle existing authorization processes and shift their focus toward excluding people of color, casting them as dangerous, undeserving, and less than human.

Migration to the United States in pursuit of safety and stability should not be criminalized, nor should it be used to strip people of their dignity and humanity. Can we not imagine their desires and actions as our own if we were in a similar situation? Would we not also relocate to safety if our livelihoods were threatened? And, would we not want others to approach us with respect and empathy?


Iran Pacheco Martinez is a Research Assistant at The Immigration Lab and a Government and Legal Studies double major with Latin American, Caribbean, and Latinx Studies at Bowdoin College.

Edited by Ernesto Castañeda, Director, Katheryn Olmos, Lab Coordinator, and Nadia Issah, Research Intern at the Center for Latin American and Latino Studies and the Immigration Lab.

Fleeing Collapse, Facing Barriers

Fleeing Collapse, Facing Barriers: The Venezuelan Crisis and U.S. Immigration Hurdles 

By Katheryn Olmos, Emma Wyler, & Isabella Serra

Photo of popular Venezuelan activist, Rafael Araujo, holding a sign that says, “Feb 12th 2014-2015 Impunity Persecution and Torture,” at a protest in Caracas, Venezuela on February 12, 2015. Image retrieved from Wikimedia Commons.

Severe Humanitarian Emergency in Venezuela

Just a few decades ago, Venezuela stood as a beacon of economic prosperity and oil wealth on the Caribbean coast of South America. However, the rise of authoritarian rule led to economic collapse, widespread corruption, and rampant inflation, creating a dangerous political climate that forced millions to flee their homes.

For many Venezuelans, including the 48 living in the Washington Metropolitan region (DMV) whom we interviewed, migrating to the U.S. was not their first choice when pursuing a more stable life. Previously, many Venezuelans migrated to and were displaced from places closer to home, from neighboring countries such as Venezuela, Colombia, Peru, Chile, and Brazil.

Venezuelan displacement is driven by a myriad of circumstances. Almost all of the Venezuelans we interviewed expressed that the economic situation in their home country, including hyperinflation, food scarcity, and inadequate wages, is not viable to sustain themselves or their families.

“No hay trabajo. [Cuando] hay trabajo y te quieren pagar, son 20 dólares semanales. Sí, y eso es muy poco dinero para los consumos de mi mamá, mis hijas. Nada más un bote de leche son 10 dólares. ¿Y me quedan 10 dólares para qué?”

“There’s no work. When there is work and they want to pay you, it’s 20 dollars a week. Yes, and that’s very little money for my mom and daughters’ basic needs. Just one gallon of milk costs 10 dollars. That leaves me 10 dollars for what?”

— Gabriel, Venezuelan Man, 28

When asked about corruption and impunity playing a role in the reason they migrated, the answer is almost always “yes.” Many of our participants experience corruption and political persecution from their government.

“Pues primero por la escasez de comida, y segundo, el barrio donde yo vivía era uno de los barrios más peligrosos de Venezuela… No tanto por parte de los que te roban sino más que todo por la policía. A la policía no importa si eres sano, si eres delincuente, igualito te extorsionaban, te sembraban drogas, de todo… nada más por el hecho de que uno perteneciera a La Cota 905 pensaban que ya uno estaba relacionado con [la pandilla]. Sí a todo el mundo que agarraron o sembraron le daban golpe, lo metieron preso, lo desaparecía… Te mataban y te ponían un arma, y ponían carajo de la banda de La Cota 905, cuando no es así. Entonces esa fue uno de los principales motivos porque me vine: La policía.”

“Well, first, because of the scarcity of food, and second, the neighborhood where I lived was one of the most dangerous neighborhoods in Venezuela…Not so much by people who rob you, but mostly by the police. It doesn’t matter to the police if you’re normal or if you’re a criminal; they still extorted you, planted drugs, everything. Just because you belonged to La Cota 905, they thought you were part of the gang. Everyone they grabbed or planted on was beaten, imprisoned, disappeared… They’d kill you and put a gun on you, and they’d say you were from La Cota 905 gang, when that’s not true. So that was one of the main reasons why I left: The police.”

— Andres, Venezuelan Man, 25

Humanitarian Protection Terminated

Given the unsafe conditions back home, many of the interviewees entered the United States under humanitarian parole, a common pathway to seek protection. The discriminatory attempt by the second Trump administration (now being blocked in federal court) to terminate humanitarian parole for Venezuelans, Cubans, Haitians, and Nicaraguans (CHNV) has upended the legal status for over half a million immigrants, and threatens to block all new applicants from these countries from receiving humanitarian protection. As of December 2024, 117,330 Venezuelan nationals had entered the U.S. under humanitarian parole. As Nicolas, a 29-year-old Venezuelan man, described:

“Entré con un permiso humanitario… A través de la aplicación [CBP One]. Ahorita no tengo los papeles, pero estoy en Estados Unidos gracias al permiso humanitario que ofrece Estados Unidos. Me lo aprobaron. … Cuando estaba en Chile, me aprobaron la entrada legal.”

“I came in with a humanitarian parole… Through the [CBP One] application. Right now, I don’t have the papers, but I’m in the United States because of the humanitarian parole that the United States offers. They approved me. … When I was in Chile, they approved me for legal entry.”

— Nicolas, Venezuelan Man, 29

In the appointment-making process for their asylum cases and legal processing, many interviewees used the CBP One app.

“Había hecho varios registros [en la aplicación CBP One] y todo eso, y no salía nada… Y trabajé hasta que me salió la cita… Estuve casi 12 meses, 11 meses [en México esperando la cita]… Entonces, de ahí, me dieron [la cita] para San Ysidro… Cuando por fin crucé, pues, solo la felicidad de estar aquí, todo fue, bueno, incluso mejor. Y de ahí llegué, compré [un boleto], tomé mi vuelo, y luego volé hasta aquí.”

“I had done several registrations [on the CBP One app] and all that, and nothing came up… And I worked until I got the appointment… I spent almost 12 months, 11 months [in Mexico waiting for the appointment]… So, from there, I got [the appointment] for San Ysidro… When I finally crossed, well, just the happiness of being here, everything was, well, even better. And from there, I arrived, bought [a ticket], I got my flight, and then I flew here.”

— Diego, Venezuelan Man, 19

The CBP One app, once a tool to schedule asylum appointments, was shut down by Trump and transformed “self-deportation” tool. This effectively weaponizes one of the only services for Venezuelans to legally process their asylum applications.

Venezuelans we spoke to often had experience with the Temporary Protected Status (TPS) program. TPS provides temporary protection and work permits to individuals who are unable to safely return to their home countries.

In February of 2025, President Trump announced his intentions to upend TPS for Venezuelans, stripping the 700,000 who would have been eligible for the program. While ending TPS for Venezuelans backpedals on basic humanitarian protection policy, our interviews shine a more nuanced light on the program’s existing limitations. TPS was too temporary to be a pathway.

“Ah sí, porque con el estatus temporal, o sea, lo dan solo por 18 meses. Y el asunto es que, para cuando lo recibes, ya casi se está acabando, así que nadie te va a dar un trabajo por un mes y luego te quedarás, ya sabes, sin los papeles legales.”

“Oh yeah, because with the temporary status, I mean they give it for only 18 months. And the scene is by the time you receive it. It’s almost already sparse, so I mean, nobody will go in to give you a job for a month, and then you will be, you know, without the legal paper.”

— Alejandra, Venezuelan Woman, 73

Despite its limitations, now that TPS is terminated, Venezuelans in the U.S. have lost their temporary work authorizations and currently risk deportation. The sensationalization of Venezuelan deportations by the Trump administration is an escalation of racial profiling experiences that interviewees previously reported.

Experiences in the U.S.

The hardships Venezuelans face do not end at the border. Our team looked deeper into the immigrant experiences of Venezuelans upon entering the U.S.

Many of our interviews uncovered further obstacles, including racial profiling, political persecution, labor exploitation, health implications, and detainment.

A commonality we discovered within our interviews is that people who seek refuge in the United States are criminalized based on their country of origin. Many Venezuelans interviewed experienced racial profiling committed by American police enforcement. The following interview, along with several others, reported job exploitation and unlivable wages. Racial profiling by police is a common thread among our interviews.

In our interviews with Venezuelans who had been detained in the United States, there were reports of close confinement and stress leading to health issues. On his experience being detained, a young man shared:

“Hubo un momento en que, prácticamente por tanto encierro, se me estaba cayendo el cabello del estrés y de tanto pensar. A veces quería pedir la deportación, y a veces me decía a mí mismo, ‘No estoy aquí, ya no estoy aquí’… Entonces aguanté, y cuando salí, me rapé la cabeza porque se me estaba cayendo el cabello.”

“There was a moment when, practically from so much confinement, my hair was falling out from the stress and the thinking. Sometimes I wanted to ask for deportation, and sometimes I said [to myself], I’m not here, I’m not already here… Then, I held on, and when I came out, I shaved my head because my hair was falling out.”

— Jose, Venezuelan Man, 23

U.S. Border Patrol agents process migrants at the Central Processing Center in McAllen, Texas, Sunday, June 17, 2018. Retrieved from picryl.

Key Takeaways

Venezuelans had to leave their worlds behind to escape the humanitarian crisis, just to face repeated struggles in an escalating authoritarian regime seizing power in the United States. Daniel, a 46-year-old Venezuelan man, described that throughout the difficult journey across the Americas, all he was doing was:

“Buscando una oportunidad de vida y una mejor calidad de vida, buscando una forma en la que me puedan dar una oportunidad o de tener mis documentos. Buscar un estatus.”

“Looking for an opportunity and a better quality of life, searching for a way in which they can give me the opportunity of having documents… a chance to have a status.”

— Daniel, Venezuelan Man, 46

ICE now weaponizes these discriminatory views of Venezuelans, painting them as gang members or terrorists. These are not unlike the claims with which the government in Venezuela used to persecute normal citizens back home.

The rampant political corruption, lack of transparency and due process, and smothering of dissent are escalating in the United States. This is a story Venezuelans know because they have already witnessed the fall of a functioning democracy to authoritarian excesses.

At the end of the day, a Venezuelan man responds to the question of whether he sees himself as an immigrant, saying:

“Yo le digo una cosa, todos somos iguales porque somos personas, somos seres humanos [a pesar de haber] nacido aquí y allá en diferentes ciudades. O sea, no quiere decir que seas tú más que el otro porque tengas más dinero. Todos vamos a morir, vamos a un solo hueco.”

“I’ll tell you what, we’re all the same because we’re people, we’re human beings [despite being]… born in different cities. In other words, just because you have more money doesn’t mean you’re more than everyone else. We’re all going to die; we’re going to the same hole.”

— Liam, Venezuelan Man, 29


Katheryn Olmos, Research and Data Coordinator at the Immigration Lab and graduate student in the Sociology Research and Practice program at American University.

Emma Wyler, Research Assistant at the Immigration Lab and undergraduate student at American University.

Isabella Serra, Research Assistant at the Immigration Lab and recent graduate of American University.

Edited by Jacqueline Aguirre De La O, Noah Green & Ernesto Castañeda