Machado Surges: Venezuela’s People Demand a Final Break with Socialism

Paul Riverbank, 1/17/2026 María Corina Machado emerges as Venezuela’s beacon for change, commanding overwhelming support against the old regime. As U.S. policy weighs stability over swift reform, the nation awaits a decisive turn—balancing hopes for freedom against the risks of unfinished transitions and persistent old-guard influence.
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There’s a strange kind of momentum swirling around María Corina Machado these days—a buzz that stretches well beyond Venezuela’s borders. For years, she wasn’t just on the political outskirts; she was practically walking them, sometimes quite literally. When barred from flying, Machado hoofed it from one city to the next. Some nights she slept under armed guard, other times not at all. In the eyes of those who’d lost faith in every sort of leadership, her refusal to play the regime’s games felt bracing.

Rubén Chirino Leañez, head of Meganálisis, puts it plainly: Machado’s rise is rooted in the fact that she has never cozied up to Chavismo. Frankly, while opposition figures occasionally cut deals or smiled nervously beside government bigwigs, Machado drew a clear line—and then refused to cross it. Remember those opposition primaries? She helped push them forward without so much as consulting the regime’s electoral authorities, the CNE. Risks piled up as fast as supporters.

And now, the numbers speak volumes. In a recent survey, an overwhelming 78 percent of Venezuelans pointed to Machado as their choice for president. Diosdado Cabello barely made a blip—3 percent. Delcy Rodríguez, suddenly thrust into interim status after Maduro’s ouster, didn’t even notch a visible presence. That’s a remarkable swing from 2023. Back then, “nobody” still scored higher than any candidate. Machado lingered near the top, but the public’s trust was a flickering thing. Now, that mood has shifted—in living rooms, on street corners, and in the pollsters’ tallies.

Her visibility isn’t confined to Venezuela, either. Just last week, in a gesture that for some might feel cinematic, Machado presented her Nobel Peace Prize to Donald Trump in Washington—right on live TV. She later admitted the exchange was deeply moving; for her, it symbolized gratitude for what she called Trump’s daring gamble that led to Maduro’s capture. Some observers drew historical lines from Bolívar’s era, when a medal crossed from the Washingtons to Latin America’s liberator. Whether or not the comparison is apt, Machado understood the power of symbols.

None of this means the story’s simple. Machado still keeps her distance from the new order. Before an audience at the Heritage Foundation, she didn’t mince words about Delcy Rodríguez. “She’s a communist, a linchpin for Moscow, Beijing, Tehran—but she is not the Venezuela I know.” Machado made no secret of her concerns: some habits and handlers from the Maduro years haven’t vanished overnight. Rumors persist about “dirty work” quietly continuing, the sort that keeps regimes alive long after the figurehead falls.

And of course, there’s the question hanging over everything—Why is Trump backing Rodríguez and not Machado? Caution, it seems, is guiding the White House. Trump, invoking Iraq and the disastrous fallout after Saddam’s fall, fears that cutting out every part of the old apparatus could plunge Venezuela into instability or worse. As he put it, “If you fire everyone, chaos.” For now, U.S. involvement is overt and overwhelming, and the endgame remains fuzzy.

It’s a gamble—one many Venezuelans seem uneasy about. Polling from Meganálisis says more than 90 percent cheer Trump for ousting Maduro, but nearly as many would rather Rodríguez not linger in power. Machado herself, never bashful about the country’s pro-American strain, sees an opportunity: “Venezuela could become the best friend the United States has ever had in this hemisphere,” she predicted, pausing as applause filtered through the room. She seems to believe the winds of history are finally at her back.

Still, no one’s celebrating yet. The residue of the old regime clings stubbornly, and the risks of a false dawn are all too real. Even Chirino, who’s watched decades of ideological back-and-forth, notes that today’s Venezuela—worn down by long, punishing years—might be one of the world’s most post-socialist societies at heart. “People are exhausted with the old script,” he tells me with a weary shrug.

So, the country lingers in a sort of half-light, tiptoeing between hope and apprehension as leaders weigh their next moves. Abroad, commentators and diplomats watch, wondering if Venezuela will finally find a way forward that’s genuinely new—or if the pull of the past proves too powerful to escape.