Venezuela: What Next after its Election Uproar?
Venezuela: What Next after its Election Uproar?
A man walks under a giant billboard with the image of Venezuelan President Nicolas Maduro, which was vandalized during strong protests against the results of Venezuela's presidential election in Valencia, Carabobo State, Venezuela, on July 31, 2024. Yuri CORTEZ / AFP
A man walks under a giant billboard with the image of Venezuelan President Nicolas Maduro, which was vandalized during strong protests against the results of Venezuela's presidential election in Valencia, Carabobo State, Venezuela, on July 31, 2024. Yuri CORTEZ / AFP
Q&A / Latin America & Caribbean 16 minutes

Venezuela: What Next after its Election Uproar?

Venezuelan election authorities proclaimed incumbent Nicolás Maduro victor in the 28 July presidential poll despite evidence brandished by the opposition showing its candidate won by a landslide. In this Q&A, Crisis Group expert Phil Gunson explains what the ensuing outcry means for Venezuela’s protracted crisis.

What happened?

Under enormous international attention, Venezuela held presidential elections on 28 July. The polls pitted unpopular incumbent Nicolás Maduro, in power since 2013 after being anointed by late President Hugo Chávez as his successor, against a relatively unheralded opposition candidate, Edmundo González. González had established a commanding lead in pre-election opinion polls, in large part thanks to the endorsement of banned opposition leader María Corina Machado. 

Six hours after most polling stations closed, the National Electoral Council (CNE) declared Maduro victorious, but neither then nor in the days since has it provided any breakdown of the results by polling station or evidence to substantiate its announcement. Convinced that the election had been stolen, opposition supporters, many from working class communities, took to the streets the following day. They have been met with a violent response from state security services, which have made clear they will stand with the Maduro administration and unfurled a wave of targeted arrests. With Maduro digging in, the past few days’ turbulence could leave in its wake a weakened government, a galvanised but frustrated opposition, and a broad front of foreign governments all struggling to determine their next moves.

How did we get here?

Much of the controversy that swirled around the 2024 presidential campaign and election is a legacy of the domestic and international rancour that followed the previous, disputed presidential vote six years ago. In 2018, the prohibition of certain opposition candidates and parties – who mostly boycotted the poll – as well as a heavily tilted electoral playing field helped President Maduro secure a second term. But his victory was dismissed as illegitimate by the U.S., the European Union and many of Venezuela’s neighbours. The next year, over fifty countries opted instead to recognise Juan Guaidó, chair of the opposition-led parliament, as interim president. Washington imposed sweeping economic sanctions as successive opposition efforts sought to topple Maduro, only for the government to hold its ground through a wave of political repression, with the help of almost seamless backing from the military and support from Russia, Iran, Cuba and other states. 

At the same time, the Norwegian government facilitated sporadic rounds of talks between the government and opposition. Despite prolonged deadlock, these talks ultimately led to a breakthrough: the Barbados Agreement of October 2023 saw the Maduro government promise improved conditions for the 2024 election, while receiving in return (via parallel talks with President Joe Biden’s administration) conditional sanctions relief. The government’s concessions nevertheless came with strings attached. Although the authorities allowed the main opposition coalition, the Unitary Platform, to hold a primary election, they reaffirmed a ban on the runaway winner, Machado, holding elected office and blocked the candidacy of her chosen substitute, Corina Yoris. González, a 74-year-old retired diplomat, was the opposition’s third choice, but despite being an unknown with no previous political experience, he soon garnered massive support, touring the country with the hugely popular Machado.

Ten candidates, backed by 38 political parties, eventually appeared on the official electronic ballot, many of them thinly veiled plants by the government, which intended them as a ploy to divide and confuse opposition voters and create the appearance of a diverse and competitive election. But the campaign rapidly took a shape that was not to the government’s liking – a two-horse race, in which reputable polling companies all gave González a massive lead, of up to 30 points and more, over Maduro. Most striking was the rapturous reception given to opposition campaign rallies in urban slums and agricultural states in the interior, which had until recently been the strongholds of chavismo – the political movement created by late president Chávez. “María Corina was here last week and filled the main street”, said an opposition supporter in the Andean state of Mérida. “Maduro came the next day and only filled half of it, despite all the buses from out of town”.

The government did its best to impede the opposition’s rallies, banning Machado from traveling by air, cancelling public transport in the vicinity, digging up highways and setting up roadblocks ahead of them. It closed down radio stations, blocked websites and kept the opposition message largely out of the mass media. Millions of voters were disenfranchised. For the Venezuelan diaspora – estimated to number eight million migrants and refugees who have left the country over a decade of economic contraction and political tumult – arbitrary rules prevented them from registering to vote; at home, enrolment was marred by lack of information, as well as of time and opportunities to register. The National Electoral Council, dominated by a pro-government majority, failed even to adhere to its own election timetable, and overlooked or omitted a number of key steps. As in previous campaigns, the government abused its power by using state resources to bolster the Maduro campaign, while extorting contributions from private businesses and closing down those that gave any assistance to their adversary. 

With all signs nevertheless pointing to an opposition victory, many observers, including Crisis Group, foresaw that the Maduro administration would resort to even more extreme tactics to avoid losing power. But in the event, at least in the run-up to the election, it proved more restrained than expected. The government refrained from banning González’s candidacy or using its control of the Supreme Court to have the party ticket on which it was registered declared invalid. Ongoing talks between Washington and Caracas, as well as pressure from neighbouring and relatively friendly left-leaning governments in Brazil and Colombia, may possibly have dissuaded Maduro from adopting such draconian measures. Hopes that a low turnout among opposition voters alongside chavismo’s tried and tested methods of electoral mobilisation would again lead to victory may also have persuaded authorities not to act earlier. But none of this meant that the administration was prepared, when push came to shove, to give up power. 

What happened on election day?

Election day itself was largely peaceful and voting took place normally, with only a minority of polling stations reporting irregularities. Exit polls and quick counts organised by the opposition indicated that Maduro was headed for defeat.

But there were soon signs that the government might not be prepared to concede. As polls closed, opposition witnesses and election workers in voting precincts across the country reported [that electoral authorities (at times supported by chavista operatives and members of the security forces), were trying to deny them copies of the vote tallies, called “actas”. These actas are printed out by each voting machine once polls close and constitute the physical corroboration of the electronic result that is sent to CNE headquarters and amalgamated into a final nationwide vote count. All participating political parties are entitled to them by law. Concerned about the implications, at 11pm, Unitary Platform coordinator Omar Barboza publicly called on the government not to “take a wrong step”.

The hours after the polls closed (technically at 6pm, although many remained open later, even without people in line to vote) were tense, with both sides claiming to have won but with no official results from the electoral authorities. Shortly after midnight, CNE president Elvis Amoroso – a close ally of President Maduro – announced that, with 80 per cent of returns tallied, Maduro had obtained 51.2 per cent of the vote and that his lead of around 700,000 votes indicated an “irreversible” tendency. Machado and González then appeared before the cameras, with Machado saying, “We won, and everyone knows it”. The commission pronounced Maduro the election winner in a Monday morning event in Caracas. 

What evidence is there to suggest that the results may have been falsified?

Both opposition and international suspicions of foul play have been heightened by the failure of guardrail systems to function as intended. 

In principle, the integrity of the vote should be protected by the actas, the paper tallies that each of the 30,026 voting machines produces once the polling station has closed. This safeguard was introduced under late president Chávez, and makes the Venezuelan system, according to electoral experts, one of the best in the world. Yet the CNE has so far failed to publish or distribute electronically the breakdown of voting by polling station and voting machine, despite Amoroso’s promises to do so. It also did not complete the post-voting audit of over half the machines, which the rules required it to. Its website, until the time of writing, was offline. Presidential candidate Enrique Márquez, a former member of the CNE board, said on 30 July that an electoral observer representing his campaign could attest that the results bulletin CNE head Amoroso read out on election night was not the one generated by the electronic voting system.

Caracas has offered little by way of explanation for the apparent irregularities. The government has accused the opposition of hacking the system, saying that a cyberattack initiated in North Macedonia accounts for the delay in transmitting the results from voting machines (the North Macedonian government has said it has no evidence such an attack took place). But, regardless, the CNE has been unable to explain why problems with the electronic system would affect the tally sheets, which are printed before transmission, or why it cannot provide the actas it says it received on the evening after polls closed. Machado and the Unitary Platform, meanwhile, say they have managed to obtain over 80 per cent of the physical tallies through a network of observers, covering around 90 per cent of voting precincts. A day after the election they posted the breakdown of the vote, together with images of each acta, on a website that permits members of the public to consult them. The government immediately moved to block access to the site, which has not stopped thousands of Venezuelans reaching it through the use of virtual private networks (VPNs). 

Against this backdrop, the Carter Center, the only professional international observer mission for the polls allowed to produce a public assessment, stated on 31 July that the election “did not meet international standards of electoral integrity and cannot be considered democratic”. The Center cited the lopsided playing field during the campaign and said that, given the lack of access to the full tally, it could not “verify or corroborate the results of the election” declared by the CNE.

How much post-election unrest has there been and what is the risk of further violence? 

The government’s announcement sparked unrest on 29 July, the day after the election, which saw spontaneous demonstrations against the Maduro government. Protesters burned tires, blocked highways and toppled several statues of Hugo Chávez. The demonstrations, which mainly drew inhabitants of poorer communities that used to be pro-government strongholds, were met with force by security forces and chavista para-police groups known as colectivos. At least twenty deaths have so far been reported along with over 1,000 arrests, according to the government and human rights organisations. 

Machado and González expressed solidarity with the demonstrators and called for restraint by government forces, but have not convened marches themselves. The opposition is no doubt conscious that since the first major anti-Maduro protest wave in 2014, the government has brutally quashed such demonstrations on numerous occasions, leading to over 250 people killed and thousands of arrests as unarmed protesters have clashed with riot squads from the police and National Guard. The government’s ferocious response to protests in 2017 provoked international outrage and paved the way for the International Criminal Court’s prosecutor to open an investigation into possible commission of crimes against humanity.

There is little to suggest that things would be easier for demonstrators this time. The armed forces high command has made clear that it will stand by Maduro. Military leaders were present at his investiture by the CNE as president-elect on Monday morning, and on the following day gave a press conference in combat fatigues to reiterate their “unconditional” backing for his government. On Tuesday, Defence Minister Vladimir Padrino published a statement accusing international “fascist structures” of trying to discredit the exemplary demonstration of civic duty by Venezuelans and reaffirming the military’s “loyalty” to Maduro.

In an apparent effort to avoid violence, Machado and González opted to organise brief rallies (what they called “popular assemblies”) on 30 July; another nationwide gathering has been called for Saturday. Sources close to the opposition affirm they have also made efforts to talk directly to the government, but these have so far been rebuffed. This has left them struggling with the question of how simultaneously to sustain pressure on the authorities to revisit the results without eliciting an even more severe response, while holding together an opposition coalition that has traditionally squabbled over tactics and strategy. 

Meanwhile, arrests of leading opposition figures – including Freddy Superlano, the national coordinator of opposition party Voluntad Popular and a close ally of Machado – signal that Maduro is ready to crack down hard on the opposition. Jorge Rodríguez, Maduro’s right-hand man and head of the National Assembly, has called for Machado and González to be arrested and tried. Six members of Machado’s election team, who have spent months in the residence of the Argentine ambassador to avoid arrest, risked capture after the government ordered Argentine diplomats expelled. (Brazil then offered to represent Argentine interests in Venezuela as long as the embassy remained closed.) For now, Maduro seems to be abstaining from taking this step, although the government’s rhetoric and the actions of its security services indicate that it is ready to tighten its authoritarian grip across the country, even at the cost of becoming a regional pariah.

What should the outside world do?

Countries in the region and further afield that have commented on the election have generally pressed for full transparency concerning the 28 July poll results, including publication of a complete breakdown of voting by polling station. The exception is countries with strong links to Maduro, including Russia, China, Cuba, Bolivia and Honduras, among others. 

Caracas has brooked no criticism. On the day after the election, after six Latin American countries (Argentina, Chile, Costa Rica, Peru, Dominican Republic and Uruguay) bluntly declined to recognise Maduro’s victory without a detailed breakdown of the figures, Caracas ordered their diplomatic representatives expelled. (Panama had already ordered its diplomats out.) The government followed up by banning flights to and from Panama, the Dominican Republic and Peru, leaving Venezuelans feeling more isolated from the world once again. On Thursday, the U.S. Secretary of State Antony Blinken said in a statement that “it is clear to the United States … that Edmundo González Urrutia won the most votes”. Top Venezuelan officials and government propagandists insist that the refusal of many countries to accept Maduro’s re-election is simply a rerun of the aftermath of the 2018 election, and that a right-wing conspiracy, led by the U.S., is using González’s supposed victory as a pretext for another bid to overthrow the Venezuelan government. 

Some key countries – in particular Brazil and Colombia (both neighbours of Venezuela), and with certain reservations, Mexico – have sought to cling precariously to what little hope remains for compromise, refraining from declaring outright that the result is a fraud while insisting on the need for transparency. But with the Maduro government seemingly bent on intensifying polarisation and dismissing all challenges to its version of events, the chances of reaching any kind of consensus on how to resolve the electoral dispute currently look remote. A session on 31 July of the Organization of American States failed to pass a resolution on the issue, with half the member states abstaining or declining to attend. (Venezuela, while formally a member, does not participate in the organisation.) 

Diplomatic efforts by Brazil as well as Colombia and the U.S. are reportedly ongoing, but face a key obstacle. If any moves to greater transparency in the vote count will put Maduro’s hold on power at risk (as increasingly seems to be the case), then he is highly unlikely to move in that direction. For now, he has put the matter of settling the dispute in the hands of the Supreme Court, which like the CNE is loyal to him and will simply endorse the result. Despite Maduro’s extreme prickliness, the risks that an unresolved election dispute will extend Venezuela’s political and economic crisis – at the expense of its people and the region – make it essential that Bogotá, Brasilia and Mexico City continue to press the Venezuelan government to prove the result in an independent and impartial forum, or be ready to agree an alternative route to some form of negotiated transition.   

What happens now?

For now, Maduro’s plan appears to be to batten down the hatches and try to ride out the storm. In the past, he has been able to take advantage of outside pressure to rally his supporters and quell dissent within chavismo, claiming Caracas is resisting imperialist interventionism abetted by the forces of domestic “fascism”. This may well work again, at least over the short term. The ruling Socialist Party, or PSUV, and the armed forces have stood by him despite what appears to have been a brazen refusal to accept the verdict from the ballot box. 

Still, Maduro is likely to emerge from the process weakened, both at home and abroad. His candidacy was not universally popular among chavistas, and his failure to deliver a credible triumph at the polls or lay the basis for economic growth and social peace will have further eroded his standing. His reputation abroad, notably among more sympathetic governments in Latin America, is likely to suffer, and at some stage the country and senior officials might face additional U.S. and EU sanctions. It remains to be seen whether a president who has been unable so far to disprove opposition claims of election victory and who can apparently only promise deeper international isolation and a stagnant economy, will still command respect among the factions that make up the movement.

As for the opposition, indignation as to the outcome is leavened by what they believe their candidate achieved, reportedly gaining four million votes more than Maduro – representing not only their first ever apparent victory over chavismo at this level, but the biggest margin of victory ever in a Venezuelan presidential election. They are, for now, much more united than they have been for several years. But that does not solve the bind they are in. Assuming Maduro clings to power, further dilemmas await them. Parliamentary and local elections are due to take place next year, but the government might be tempted to bring them forward. If it does, the opposition will face a quandary that has tormented it for much of chavismo’s 25 years in power: do they stick to the method of contesting elections, despite the government’s apparent disregard for the most basic rules of democracy, or do they boycott the polls, a tactic they have used in the past but which simply allowed the government to win by default? If they do spurn elections, it is unclear what other options the opposition might embrace beyond the campaigns of street protest and foreign sanctions that have thus far failed to dislodge the government, and in the case of sanctions, deepened the country’s humanitarian misery. 

Despite the opposition’s frustration at yet another election dispute following years of patient negotiations, it remains the case that a solution to Venezuela’s long-running political crisis – and a peaceful, gradual return to democratic governance – will require full-scale talks between the two sides. If the current crisis has any upside, it is the opportunity it could present to convince a majority on both sides that the moment for talks has now arrived. Opposition leaders, governments in the region, and multilateral bodies – above all the UN – should continue to press for a full accounting of the election results. But they should also use all the channels at their disposal to urge Maduro and senior officials to understand the electoral crisis as the latest episode of a debilitating dispute that, without a course correction, will simmer endlessly to the detriment of the Venezuelan people. They should insist that the government’s efforts over the last five years to restore its political legitimacy will come to naught without a comprehensive negotiation process aimed at defusing tensions, reestablishing representative politics and rekindling economic growth. 

As efforts by third countries to restart negotiations continue, the opposition and its allies should prepare themselves to discuss difficult issues if they do. These include inevitable demands from senior chavistas for robust guarantees to protect them from legal peril in the event that they leave high office. At the same time, they should avoid the temptation, always present when options seem limited or non-existent, to threaten coercive force or slap on more sanctions so as not to be seen to be “doing nothing”. The solution to Venezuela’s ills does not lie in piling more punishment on a population that is already suffering a humanitarian emergency, but instead using existing sanctions and the prospect of their lifting as an incentive for the government to compromise. 

Whether there will be an opening for meaningful talks any time soon is anyone’s guess. Right now, chavismo seems more girded for intransigence than negotiation and compromise. Hopes for a better outcome remain slender. Some voices in the opposition are advocating a face-saving deal for Maduro, in which he would step down in favour of a consensus candidate agreed to by both the government and opposition ahead of a fresh election. It is not a proposal that appears to have great prospects for success at this point in time. But at a deeply troubling moment for Venezuela, options for a way out of the hardening deadlock should be nurtured and sustained. 

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