On January 3, 2026, a military operation carried out by U.S. armed forces in the capital of Venezuela resulted in the capture of Cilia Flores and her husband, President Nicolás Maduro. This has led to an ongoing state of emergency and authoritarian measures, which have impacted political dissent and civil society. Yet much of the coverage of Venezuela’s latest crisis continues to center almost exclusively on male power. This narrow focus obscures a critical reality: three women, Cilia Flores, Delcy Rodríguez, and María Corina Machado, are not peripheral figures, but central actors shaping Venezuela’s political trajectory in profoundly different ways.
While widely reported as the capture of the “first combatant,” the chavismo term for “first lady,” Cilia Flores’ political role extends far beyond that of a supportive spouse. Flores has been active in Venezuelan politics longer than Maduro himself and played a pivotal role in the rise of Maduro’s predecessor, Hugo Chávez. Her extensive political career began when Chávez appointed her to Venezuela’s National Assembly in 2000, a position she held until the day of her capture. Later, in 2006, she became the first woman to preside over Venezuela’s parliament, consolidating her influence within the chavismo movement.
Despite this record, Flores has been rendered largely invisible in the aftermath of her detention. State-aligned media and international coverage have released no public photographs or recordings of her capture, a stark contrast to the circulation of images of her husband. This erasure of her influence does not take away Flores’ responsibility as a central controversial figure in the operations that enable human rights abuses within the chavismo regime.
The marginalization of women in Venezuela’s political narrative extends to the current interim president, Delcy Rodríguez. Despite her being the most powerful figure after Maduro within the chavismo nucleus, her role has been pushed to the margins during this crisis and her legitimacy is contested internationally and domestically. Rodríguez controls critical sectors of the state, including her roles as minister of the economy and president of PDVSA, Venezuela’s state-owned oil and gas company.
Despite being the interim President, Rodríguez is framed as a caretaker rather than an architect of the regime. Her stance in sustaining Maduro’s authoritarian structure, suppressing dissent, and advancing state-controlled oil reforms underscores how women’s authority is discredited even when they are active agents of governance. This framing minimizes her political agency while obscuring the continuity of power within the chavismo state.
On the other side of the political spectrum, right-wing leader María Corina Machado stands as the face of the opposition party, Vente Venezuela. Her influence was reflected in the 2010 parliamentary elections, where she received the most votes among all candidates. More recently, she received international recognition with her 2025 Nobel Peace Prize for promoting democratic rights in Venezuela.
Machado’s leadership reflects a distinct ideological orientation and her alignment with right-wing economic policies and her openness to U.S. intervention have made her a polarizing figure within Venezuela. Yet, even her controversial role is overshadowed and seen as merely symbolic when negotiations shift from rhetorical discussions to tangible contests over power and resources.
The continuous sidelining of these female leaders when interpreting the crisis in Venezuela only results in a partial understanding of the issue. Ignoring the roles of Flores, Rodríguez, and Machado in Venezuela’s decision-making process undermines the forces that push and pull the country’s political system. To truly have an effective perspective of the problem in Venezuela and find a real path forward, analysis must move beyond an interpretation centered only on the man who once held the presidency.
