Behind the slogans of “stability” and “recovery,” a more unsettling reality is taking shape. Washington’s fingerprints on Venezuela’s oil sector turn crude into a political instrument: every license, waiver, and contract becomes a lever to pressure elections, rewrite economic rules, and marginalize any actor unwilling to play along. Corporations step into the vacuum with smiling press releases and airtight contracts, locking in decades of access at bargain prices, guarded by legal shields and geopolitical muscle.

Inside Venezuela, hope and unease collide. Communities long crushed by blackout, hunger, and exodus are told that relief is finally coming—if the right boxes are checked, the right reforms signed, the right partners pleased. Infrastructure may be rebuilt, but under terms few Venezuelans ever see. If the commanding heights of recovery are outsourced, the country risks trading a broken sovereignty for a polished dependency: a future rebuilt in its name, but calibrated to someone else’s bottom line.