Maduro’s Foe, Migrants’ Enemy: Trump’s Hypocrisy on Venezuela

Donald Trump loves to sound tough on Venezuela. He paints himself as a champion against President Nicolás Maduro’s “socialist dictatorship,” touting harsh sanctions and even hinting at military action. But behind the bombast lies a record riddled with contradictions. Even as Venezuela’s crisis deepens – spurring fraught U.S. diplomatic moves and a mass migration exodus – Trump’s posture often undermines the very values he claims to defend. In one breath, he threatened to topple Maduro “by any means,” and in the next, his administration slammed the door on Venezuelans fleeing that tyranny . This advocacy report examines the latest developments in U.S.-Venezuela relations and how Trump’s recent statements and policies reveal an absurd gap between rhetoric and reality.

U.S.-Venezuela Relations at a Crossroads

Venezuela remains in a prolonged political and economic crisis, and Washington’s approach has shifted in response to recent developments. In late 2023, the Biden administration took a significant turn by easing oil sanctions on Venezuela as part of a deal to encourage free elections in 2024 – the most extensive rollback of Trump-era restrictions to date . This sanctions relief was a pragmatic bid: Caracas agreed to allow an internationally monitored vote in exchange for the temporary lifting of crushing oil sanctions . U.S. officials made clear the relief was conditional – Maduro had to unban opposition candidates and release political prisoners by set deadlines . This marked a sharp departure from Trump’s prior “maximum pressure” strategy of isolating Maduro at all costs .

However, hopes for a democratic breakthrough quickly soured. Maduro’s regime failed to honor key commitments – banning popular opposition leaders and stacking the process in its favor. By 2024, widespread fraud tainted Venezuela’s election, prompting Washington to snap back sanctions and condemn Maduro’s new term as illegitimate . Strong evidence indicated an opposition candidate had actually won by a wide margin, yet Venezuela’s state apparatus declared Maduro the victor in a sham result . The U.S. and its allies blasted the outcome as neither free nor fair, refusing to recognize Maduro’s mandate going forward. In fact, as Maduro was hastily sworn in for another term, the U.S. Justice Department even upped the ante – reportedly raising its bounty on Maduro (wanted on narco-trafficking charges) and reiterating that it views him as an illegitimate usurper .

Amid this diplomatic standoff, migration and humanitarian concerns have become central to U.S.-Venezuela relations. Venezuela’s economic collapse and repression under Maduro have driven nearly 8 million people to flee since 2014 – the largest exodus in Latin America’s history . Most have settled in neighboring countries, but many journeyed further, making Venezuelans one of the fastest-growing asylum-seeking groups in the United States . Under President Biden, Washington acknowledged the humanitarian emergency by granting Temporary Protected Status (TPS) to hundreds of thousands of Venezuelans already in the U.S., allowing them legal residence and work permits. In fall 2023, Biden even expanded TPS to cover recent arrivals, citing the “severe humanitarian emergency” in Venezuela that makes deportations unconscionable . As a result, roughly 600,000 Venezuelans in the U.S. are now shielded from removal and can legally work – a policy shift intended to manage the migrant influx humanely . This more compassionate approach stands in stark contrast to Trump’s hardline stance, and it set the stage for a looming clash as Trump signaled he would reverse these protections if given the chance.

Trump’s Posture: Hardline Policies and Fiery Rhetoric

Donald Trump has long positioned himself as Maduro’s fiercest adversary, but his approach has been defined by maximalist tactics and mixed results. During his first term, Trump’s administration recognized opposition leader Juan Guaidó as Venezuela’s legitimate president in 2019 and spearheaded international efforts to isolate Maduro . He piled on sweeping sanctions, targeting Venezuela’s oil industry and top officials, with the aim of strangling Maduro’s regime . At the height of Venezuela’s turmoil, Trump and his advisors even floated the specter of U.S. military intervention – famously insisting “all options are on the table” if Maduro did not step aside . Such tough talk played well in certain circles, and Trump seemed in his element thundering about Venezuela’s “evil socialism” and narcotraffickers.

Yet for all the bluster, Trump’s Venezuela policy yielded no democratic restoration in Caracas. Maduro remained entrenched in power despite years of “maximum pressure.” By 2020, Trump himself privately expressed frustration that Guaidó’s movement had failed to topple the regime . In an Oval Office interview that year, Trump even suggested second thoughts about recognizing Guaidó at all – admitting “I don’t think it was very meaningful one way or the other,” and musing that Maduro was “strong” while Guaidó was “weak” . At one point, Trump startled observers by saying he was open to meeting Maduro in person, downplaying his prior support for the opposition . (He quickly walked back that comment after criticism, tweeting that he’d only meet Maduro to negotiate his exit from power .) This flip-flop underscored how incoherent Trump’s stance could be beneath the surface bravado. Even as his officials publicly championed Venezuela’s democratic cause, Trump himself showed an odd admiration for Maduro’s “toughness” and a readiness to cut deals – a posture at odds with his hawkish rhetoric .

Now, in his post-presidency (and as a 2024 presidential candidate), Trump continues to beat the drums on Venezuela – if anything, his rhetoric has grown more extreme. He baselessly frames the Venezuela situation as a direct threat to U.S. security, conflating it with his domestic agenda on crime and immigration. At rallies and in interviews, Trump has claimed that under Biden, “Venezuelan drug dealers” and gang members are “invading” the U.S. via the southern border . He pushed a conspiracy theory that Maduro (and Cuba’s regime) intentionally emptied prisons to flood America with “criminals,” an assertion multiple fact-checkers have debunked as entirely unfounded . (U.S. officials have encountered a few members of a Venezuelan gang among migrants, but no evidence of any organized plot to send criminals here .) That hasn’t stopped Trump from repeating the lurid claims – “poisoning our country,” “the largest invasion ever” – as part of his stump speeches, stoking fear and framing himself as the lone savior of law and order . He even vowed to designate Venezuela’s Tren de Aragua gang as a terrorist organization and hinted at military strikes against cartels operating in Latin America . Such moves would drastically escalate U.S. intervention. Critics note that Trump’s alarmist focus on Venezuelan gangs is a red herring – most cocaine smuggling into the U.S. comes through other countries (like Colombia and Mexico) and via routes far from Venezuela’s shores . Maduro’s government, for its part, has accused Trump of fabricating a “new eternal war” as a pretext for regime change, noting pointedly that Venezuela doesn’t even produce coca for cocaine . The sabre-rattling may play well with Trump’s base, but it raises tensions and distracts from genuine humanitarian solutions.

Hypocrisy and Absurdity Exposed

Beneath Trump’s tough-guy performance on Venezuela lies a stark humanitarian hypocrisy. He loudly condemns the cruelty of Maduro’s regime – yet has shown remarkably little compassion for Venezuelan people escaping that very cruelty. When it comes to offering refuge or support to actual Venezuelans, Trump’s record is abysmal. “Trump has been hypocritical on Venezuela,” says Adriana Kostencki, president of the Venezuelan American National Bar Association, pointing out that if he truly cared about the suffering under Maduro, he “should care about the Venezuelans escaping to your country” . The facts bear this out. During Trump’s term, the U.S. admitted virtually zero Venezuelan refugees and had no program to resettle those fleeing hunger and persecution . Instead, the administration deported hundreds of Venezuelans back to the collapsing state, even as it touted Guaidó’s cause . Immigration judges – operating under Trump-era restrictive asylum rules – denied the majority of Venezuelan asylum claims, despite clear evidence many had been targeted by Maduro’s thugs . And unlike the Biden administration, which granted TPS as humanitarian relief, Trump resisted offering any protected status to Venezuelan exiles until literally his last day in office (when facing pressure from Florida’s diaspora community, he issued a last-minute deferral of deportations set to last only 18 months). In essence, Trump spent four years thundering against Venezuela’s government while turning his back on its victims.

This contradiction became especially glaring during the recent migration waves. As tens of thousands of desperate Venezuelan families trekked to the U.S. border seeking asylum, Trump and his allies responded not with empathy, but with demonization. They caricatured these migrants as an “invasion” of criminals, echoing the very trope of dehumanization he uses against immigrants generally . Never mind that studies consistently show immigrants (including the undocumented) commit less crime than native-born Americans – Trump’s strategy has been to weaponize fear. In one speech, he ranted about “a Venezuelan illegal alien criminal” being let into the country by Biden’s “open borders” policy, seizing on an isolated incident to smear an entire group . It’s the height of absurdity: the same man who claims to champion Venezuelans’ freedom from socialism is terrified to let Venezuelan refugees set foot on U.S. soil. Trump’s own administration even fought in court to end TPS for Venezuelans, essentially arguing that it should be safe to deport them back to the nightmare of Maduro’s rule . (Courts initially blocked his attempt as unlawful, but the mere effort sent a chilling message.) Only under Biden were these deportations halted and TPS finally granted on humanitarian grounds.

Trump’s Venezuela posturing also smacks of political opportunism. In Florida, home to a large Venezuelan exile community, Trump eagerly exploited their trauma for votes. His 2020 campaign bombarded Spanish-language media with false ads tying Joe Biden to Venezuela’s socialist regime, even alleging Maduro secretly wanted Biden to win . (In reality, Maduro openly opposed both U.S. candidates and blamed both for sanctions .) The disinformation was brazen – one Trump ad outright lied that Biden was backed by the “Chavista” cabal – but it played on the legitimate fears of Venezuelan expats and helped Trump secure their support in South Florida . At the same time, Trump cynically labels American Democrats as “socialists” using Venezuela as a scare tactic, while cozying up to autocrats of his liking elsewhere. He infamously praised strongmen like Vladimir Putin, Xi Jinping, even Kim Jong-un – boasting of “falling in love” with the North Korean dictator – yet he rails against Maduro’s tyranny in moralistic terms. The double standard is hard to miss: Trump’s concern for “democracy” in Venezuela rings hollow given his praise of other dictators and his own attempts to subvert democracy at home. (Recall that Trump refused to accept the 2020 U.S. election results and sparked an attack on the Capitol, all while claiming to stand for free elections abroad.)

In the end, Trump’s approach to Venezuela is less about principled support for the Venezuelan people and more about posturing – to look “tough” for domestic audiences. His saber-rattling and sanctions-first policy provided red meat to anti-communist hardliners, but it delivered little relief or justice to Venezuelans suffering under Maduro. And his harsh anti-migrant stance actively harmed many of those same people he pretended to champion, exposing a cruel irony at the heart of his rhetoric. “The U.S. should look at the Venezuelan crisis holistically – diplomacy, sanctions, and humanitarian refuge,” one migration expert urged back in 2019 . Trump utterly failed that holistic test. He isolated and punished a tyrant, yes – but also punished the victims of that tyrant through neglect and nativism.

Calling Out the Absurdity

As Venezuela’s turmoil grinds on, the United States faces hard choices in balancing pressure on Maduro with compassion for the Venezuelan people. Recent developments – from tentative diplomatic deals to manage elections, to emergency measures addressing migrant flows – show a U.S. policy trying to recalibrate after the failures of pure pressure. In this context, Donald Trump’s bluster stands out as both dangerously simplistic and morally inconsistent. He continues to issue grandiose threats and paint himself as the savior who will “fix Venezuela,” all while ignoring the human costs of his words and actions. Advocacy groups and observers have a duty to call out this absurd posture. It is absurd to foment talk of war in the name of Venezuelan freedom, even as you turn away Venezuelan refugees at your doorstep. It is absurd to denounce a dictator’s lawlessness, even as you flirt with lawlessness and disinformation yourself. And it is absurd to claim the mantle of liberty for a foreign people, even as your actual policies toward those people are marked by cruelty and hypocrisy.

Ultimately, standing with the people of Venezuela means standing by our principles consistently – defending democracy and human rights not just in speeches, but in practice. That means pairing smart diplomatic pressure on the Maduro regime with real humanitarian support for Venezuelans fleeing oppression. It means rejecting the cynical politicization of their plight. Trump’s track record on this issue fails that basic test. His Venezuela policy has been a saga of tough talk and cruel ironies, one that should serve as a cautionary tale. As the U.S. moves forward in addressing Venezuela’s crisis, Americans must reject posturing in favor of principled, compassionate leadership – and hold to account those, like Trump, whose rhetoric and reality could not be farther apart