Imagine being forced to flee your home, your life, everything you know, all because of political persecution. That's the reality for hundreds of thousands of Venezuelans who sought refuge in Spain, clinging to the hope that one day, they could return to a free Venezuela. But with the recent ouster of Nicolás Maduro, the future they dreamed of is now shrouded in uncertainty. Will things truly change for the better, or are they simply exchanging one set of problems for another?
For years, Spain has been a haven for Venezuelan exiles – opposition leaders, everyday citizens, all united by the longing for Maduro's removal from power. The country's statistics office reports approximately 400,000 Venezuelans now reside in Spain, drawn by the shared language, cultural similarities, and relatively open migration policies. But now, with Maduro gone, a complex mix of emotions is surfacing: celebration mixed with deep-seated concern about what comes next.
Take Xiomara Sierra, for example. Since the controversial July 2024 elections in Venezuela, she has lived under the weight of constant threats. As a campaign coordinator for an opposition party, she was publicly accused of terrorism by the country's justice minister. "He banged his fists on a table and he threatened me with Operación Tun Tun," Sierra recalls, referencing the infamous mass arrests of protesters and political opponents carried out by Venezuelan security forces. "I didn’t say goodbye to my family. Nobody knew I was leaving." Now a spokesperson in Spain for opposition leader and Nobel Prize winner María Corina Machado, Sierra's hope is tempered by caution.
"Delcy Rodríguez is the instrument of repression for the Venezuelan state," Sierra warns, referring to the current interim leader. "We cannot trust her.” But here's where it gets controversial... Some argue that any change, even one led by someone associated with the previous regime, is a step in the right direction. Others, like Sierra, believe that true change requires a complete break from the past. What do you think? Is compromise ever possible when dealing with a history of repression?
Sarahy Chirinos, who runs a Venezuelan bakery in Madrid, echoes this sentiment of cautious optimism. "It's a mixed feeling. This is not what we were expecting,” she explains. “Venezuelans were expecting that Maduro would be taken out of office and that a democratic transition would start with María Corina Machado. Now we have to wait and continue to pray to God."
Sierra is among the few opposition members in Spain willing to speak publicly, highlighting the fear that still lingers. Many prefer to remain in the shadows, carefully assessing whether a return to public life in Venezuela is even possible. Human rights organizations estimate that Venezuela still holds between 800 and 900 political prisoners, many languishing in the notorious El Helicoide detention center in Caracas, a place documented for years as a site of abuse and torture. The release of some political prisoners was announced after Maduro's ouster.
However, Sierra emphasizes that this is not enough. "For a real change, all political prisoners must be released, and all the torture centres should be closed. Then the popular vote of the Venezuelan population in 2024 should be respected." Edmundo Gonzalez Urrutia, the 76-year-old former diplomat who was the opposition candidate in the 2024 presidential election and was granted political asylum in Spain, has called for the "explicit" recognition of his election victory.
Antonio Ledezma, the former mayor of Caracas, now exiled in Madrid, urges "strategic patience." Leopoldo López, another prominent opposition figure exiled in Madrid after being sentenced to 14 years in prison for inciting post-election protests in 2014, has remained silent. And this is the part most people miss... The silence of some key figures speaks volumes about the level of uncertainty and fear that still prevails, even with Maduro gone.
The future remains deeply uncertain for Venezuelan asylum seekers awaiting the processing of their applications in Spain. One 37-year-old applicant in León, who requested anonymity to protect her claim, expressed her anxiety: "I'm very scared, we don't know what's going to happen for our case here." She fears a repeat of the Syrian situation in 2024, when several European countries suspended asylum applications for Syrians following the fall of Bashar al-Assad. "If tomorrow Europe or Spain decides that Venezuela is safe and rejects our applications and tells us to go back, what will we do? There's no hope left in my country.”
Spanish Prime Minister Pedro Sánchez has pledged to help Venezuelans decide their future, while repeatedly condemning the U.S. operation that led to Maduro's capture. In recent years, Spain has seen an increase in the arrival of Latin Americans, particularly Venezuelans, driven by stricter migration policies elsewhere. The absence of a tourist visa makes entry into Spain easier, but life is far from simple.
"Like many Venezuelans, I had nothing when I arrived here in Spain, not even papers," Chirinos recounts. The journey has been long and arduous, leaving her undecided about whether she will ever return to Venezuela. "It’s been so long since I’ve been away from my country. I have two sons, and my youngest, who is eight, was born when we left Venezuela. He’s never been able to see his country,” she laments.
Venezuelans in Spain are grappling with a fundamental question: Has the situation improved enough to warrant a return home? Many haven't seen their families or their homeland in years. Eriana Zuleta, a 28-year-old Venezuelan woman exiled in Madrid, has only known Chávez and Maduro as leaders of her country. "Venezuela is still not a free country, but it is entering a democratic transition process that we hope will be effective,” she says cautiously. "It’s true that we still haven’t packed our bags; we can’t just leave overnight yet."
Her father, Erick Zuleta, president of the national union of transport workers of Venezuela and former opposition deputy, fled to Spain nearly a decade ago. He vividly remembers the day he was warned about his impending arrest by the political police. "I crossed nine states of Venezuela, changing cars several times. I was scared; it was like a science fiction movie." His daughter, Eriana, followed him to Spain shortly afterward due to mounting pressure and constant surveillance on their family.
Erick is already planning for Venezuela's future, envisioning a recovery plan for the transportation system, contingent on María Corina Machado coming to power. "We hope to return for the reconstruction, but everything will depend on how events unfold," he says. Sierra shares this hope, longing to reunite with her loved ones. "What happened gives me hope that one day I will be able to return home, even though the conditions are not yet in place.”
So, what does the future hold for these exiled Venezuelans? Will the ouster of Maduro pave the way for genuine democratic reform, allowing them to finally return home? Or will they remain in limbo, caught between hope and fear, forever marked by the political turmoil that forced them to flee? What conditions would need to be met for you to feel safe returning to a country you were forced to leave? And what role should the international community play in ensuring a stable and democratic future for Venezuela? Share your thoughts in the comments below.
