Biden’s Failed Gamble Ends—U.S. Freezes Maduro’s Dirty Money Pipeline

Paul Riverbank, 12/12/2025US freezes Venezuelan assets, targeting Maduro's inner circle and oil lifelines amid rising tensions.

Last week, Washington took another decisive step in the ongoing struggle with Nicolás Maduro’s government, freezing assets and shutting off the remaining spigots powering his inner circle. This round was pointed: three nephews tied by blood to the first lady, familiar names that have danced through both American headlines and whispered Caracas conversations. Efrain Antonio Campo Flores and Franqui Francisco Flores de Freitas—known less formally as the “narco-nephews”—found themselves targeted yet again. Years back, these figures became infamous, swept up in a sting that spanned continents and ended in courtroom drama over drugs bound for the U.S. Their 2022 release, offered up in the hopes of sparking some breakthrough with Caracas, fizzled into disappointment. Now, U.S. officials say the two have picked up right where they left off.

For Treasury Secretary Scott Bessent, the gloves came off. In his own words, “Nicolás Maduro and his criminal associates in Venezuela are flooding the United States with drugs...” There was no attempt at diplomatic language, just a blunt judgment on both the actions and intentions of the regime.

The reach of these new sanctions extends past family. Another nephew, Carlos Erik Malpica Flores—at one time the money man steering state oil accounts—joins the list. His name, once dropped from targets in a failed overture toward democratic reform, is back in Washington’s crosshairs. The hope that softer tactics might shift Caracas has simply collapsed.

None of this can be separated from oil, that perpetual lifeblood of Venezuela. Even in decline, with workers leaving and machinery rusting in humid air, oil props up what remains of the economy and, by extension, Maduro’s grip on power. Since 2019, broad U.S. sanctions have driven the business underground. Vessels vanish mid-route; paths become puzzles. The Treasury’s new blacklist names six vessels and another actor—Ramon Carretero Napolitano, a well-connected businessman in Panama. His fortunes, now frozen, are a cautionary tale for anyone tempted to keep doing business with Caracas.

Punishments are not abstract—if a company, bank, or even a freight operator touches these individuals or entities, their own pockets could feel the sting. The indictment is as much a warning shot to international markets as it is a punishment to those directly involved.

Notably, this economic pressure now finds support beyond paperwork. U.S. warships, including the USS Gerald R. Ford, drift near Venezuelan waters. More than symbolism, these ships can and sometimes do intercept oil tankers, lending a military edge to what was once thought to be the domain of bankers and lawyers.

What is the endgame? In Washington, it’s spelled out with unusual clarity: without visible, credible shifts in Venezuela’s political structure, sanctions stay put. The world’s largest economy is betting that the isolation and economic pain will eventually force change.

But history, especially Latin American history, resists tidy endings. For every sanction, there’s a workaround; for every crackdown, an adaptation. Maduro’s circle, no strangers to shadowy dealings, have learned to navigate in the dark. Oil still flows—perhaps slower, perhaps in stranger directions, but it moves.

In the midst of these international chess moves, average Venezuelans endure a more personal set of consequences. Each tightening of the screws makes daily life just that bit harder, all while the grand strategies play out far from home. Hopes for change rest in boardrooms and on the decks of silent ships at the edge of international waters, while at street level, the cycle of pressure and adaptation drags on.

With every new sanction, the world waits: Will this be the measure that cracks the facade, or simply another round in a story with all too many chapters?

It’s a humid afternoon on the Venezuelan coast, and somewhere just out of sight, tankers idle with their transponders dark. These ships, names like “White Crane” and “Tamia” painted on their hulls, are more than maritime silhouettes—they are pieces of a much larger picture. Where the oil goes, power follows. Where power stalls, sanctions follow even faster.Last week, Washington took another decisive step in the ongoing struggle with Nicolás Maduro’s government, freezing assets and shutting off the remaining spigots powering his inner circle. This round was pointed: three nephews tied by blood to the first lady, familiar names that have danced through both American headlines and whispered Caracas conversations. Efrain Antonio Campo Flores and Franqui Francisco Flores de Freitas—known less formally as the “narco-nephews”—found themselves targeted yet again. Years back, these figures became infamous, swept up in a sting that spanned continents and ended in courtroom drama over drugs bound for the U.S. Their 2022 release, offered up in the hopes of sparking some breakthrough with Caracas, fizzled into disappointment. Now, U.S. officials say the two have picked up right where they left off.For Treasury Secretary Scott Bessent, the gloves came off. In his own words, “Nicolás Maduro and his criminal associates in Venezuela are flooding the United States with drugs...” There was no attempt at diplomatic language, just a blunt judgment on both the actions and intentions of the regime.The reach of these new sanctions extends past family. Another nephew, Carlos Erik Malpica Flores—at one time the money man steering state oil accounts—joins the list. His name, once dropped from targets in a failed overture toward democratic reform, is back in Washington’s crosshairs. The hope that softer tactics might shift Caracas has simply collapsed.None of this can be separated from oil, that perpetual lifeblood of Venezuela. Even in decline, with workers leaving and machinery rusting in humid air, oil props up what remains of the economy and, by extension, Maduro’s grip on power. Since 2019, broad U.S. sanctions have driven the business underground. Vessels vanish mid-route; paths become puzzles. The Treasury’s new blacklist names six vessels and another actor—Ramon Carretero Napolitano, a well-connected businessman in Panama. His fortunes, now frozen, are a cautionary tale for anyone tempted to keep doing business with Caracas.Punishments are not abstract—if a company, bank, or even a freight operator touches these individuals or entities, their own pockets could feel the sting. The indictment is as much a warning shot to international markets as it is a punishment to those directly involved.Notably, this economic pressure now finds support beyond paperwork. U.S. warships, including the USS Gerald R. Ford, drift near Venezuelan waters. More than symbolism, these ships can and sometimes do intercept oil tankers, lending a military edge to what was once thought to be the domain of bankers and lawyers.What is the endgame? In Washington, it’s spelled out with unusual clarity: without visible, credible shifts in Venezuela’s political structure, sanctions stay put. The world’s largest economy is betting that the isolation and economic pain will eventually force change.But history, especially Latin American history, resists tidy endings. For every sanction, there’s a workaround; for every crackdown, an adaptation. Maduro’s circle, no strangers to shadowy dealings, have learned to navigate in the dark. Oil still flows—perhaps slower, perhaps in stranger directions, but it moves.In the midst of these international chess moves, average Venezuelans endure a more personal set of consequences. Each tightening of the screws makes daily life just that bit harder, all while the grand strategies play out far from home. Hopes for change rest in boardrooms and on the decks of silent ships at the edge of international waters, while at street level, the cycle of pressure and adaptation drags on.With every new sanction, the world waits: Will this be the measure that cracks the facade, or simply another round in a story with all too many chapters?