The Room Where It Happened

by John Bolton;

  Colombian President Ivan Duque visited Trump in the White House on February 13, and the discussion centered on Venezuela. Trump asked the Colombians if he should have talked to Maduro six months earlier, and Duque said unequivocally it would have been a big victory for Maduro, implying it would be an even bigger mistake to talk to him now. Trump said he agreed, which relieved me greatly. He then inquired how the effort was going overall and whether the momentum was with Maduro or Guaidó. Here, Colombian Ambassador Francisco Santos was particularly effective, saying that even two months ago, he would have said Maduro had the edge, but he no longer believed it was true, explaining why. This clearly registered with Trump.

  Nonetheless, I worried our own government was not displaying a proper sense of urgency. There was, across the government, an obstructionist, “not invented here” mentality, undoubtedly in large part because under eight years of Obama, the Venezuelan, Cuban, and Nicaraguan regimes were not seen as US adversaries. Little or no attention was given to what the US should do if, inconveniently, the people of these countries decided they wanted to run their own governments. Even more important, in my view, the growing Russian, Chinese, Iranian, and Cuban influence across the hemisphere had not been a priority. In effect, therefore, the Trump Administration faced an avalanche of due bills in Latin America with no preparation for how to handle them.

  The Opposition refined its thinking on how to “force” humanitarian aid into Venezuela from Colombia and Brazil, and set Saturday, February 23, as the target date. The Saturday prior, some six hundred thousand people had signed up in Caracas to help. After much coordinating between the United States Agency for International Development and the Pentagon, C-17 cargo planes were now landing at Cúcuta, one of the principal Colombian border crossing points, offloading humanitarian assistance to go across the bridges connecting the two countries. Inside Venezuela, movement toward the Opposition continued. The Catholic bishop of San Cristóbal, who was also Vice President of the country’s Catholic bishops’ conference, spoke publicly, specifically referring to a transition in power away from Maduro. We had hoped the church would take a more active public role, and that now seemed to be happening. As February 23 approached, rumors intensified of a high-level military leader, likely Venezuelan Army Commander Jesús Suárez Chourio, publicly announcing that he no longer backed Maduro. There had been similar rumors before, but the humanitarian cross-border plan was the key factor why this time it might be true. Contemporaneously, Senator Marco Rubio specifically named Suarez Chourio, along with Defense Minister Padrino and four others, as key military figures who could receive amnesty if they defected to the Opposition.33 There was also some feeling that defections of this magnitude would bring a significant number of troops with them, with the military units seemingly moving toward the borders, but then doubling back to Caracas to encircle the Miraflores Palace, Venezuela’s White House. These optimistic forecasts, however, did not come to pass.

  We were doing our bit, with a Trump speech at Miami’s Florida International University on February 18, which could have been a campaign rally, so enthusiastic was the crowd. Plans for the twenty-third fell into place, as Colombia’s President Duque announced he would be joined at Cúcuta by the Presidents of Panama, Chile, and Paraguay, and the Organization of American States Secretary General Luis Almagro. This would prove convincingly that Venezuela’s revolution was hardly “made in Washington.” Humanitarian supplies increased on the borders, and there was evidence that Maduro’s security forces intensified their harassment of nongovernmental organizations inside the country. Guaidó left Caracas under cover on Wednesday, heading for the Colombian border, where, it was originally planned, he would wait on the Venezuelan side while the humanitarian aid came across the Tienditas International Bridge from Colombia. We heard, however, that Guaidó was thinking of actually crossing into Colombia to attend a Richard Branson-sponsored concert in Cúcuta on Friday night to support the assistance to Venezuela, and then leading the aid back across the border the next day, facing a confrontation with Maduro’s forces, if one came, directly.

  This was not a good idea, for several reasons. It was very dramatic but dangerous, not just physically, but more important, politically. Once across the border and outside Venezuela, it would likely be difficult for Guaidó to get back in. What would happen to his ability to direct and control Opposition policy if he were isolated outside the country, subject to Maduro propaganda saying he had fled in fear? We had no way of predicting the outcome on Saturday. It could swing from one extreme to another: things could go well, with the border effectively opened, which would be a direct challenge to Maduro’s authority, or there could be violence and bloodshed at the crossing points, potentially with Guaidó arrested or worse. I thought trying to bring the humanitarian aid across the border was well conceived and entirely doable. More grandiose plans, however, were not well thought out and could easily lead to trouble.

  In the midst of all this, with the Trump/Kim Jong Un Hanoi Summit looming, I cut short my planned itinerary in Asia, canceling meetings in Korea so I could stay in Washington until Sunday to see what happened in Venezuela. Although media attention focused on the Colombia-Venezuela border, especially at Cúcuta, there were also significant developments on the Brazil side. The Pemones, indigenous people inside Venezuela who detested Maduro, were fighting the government’s National Guard forces. Both sides sustained casualties, and the Pemones reportedly captured twenty-seven guardsmen, including one General, and burned an airport checkpoint. By Friday, the Pemones also took control of several roads leading into Venezuela.34

  Later on Friday, Guaidó crossed into Colombia reportedly via helicopter, assisted by sympathetic members of Venezuela’s military.35 These troops were also expected to help get the humanitarian aid through the border checkpoints on Saturday. I was disappointed, but at least we heard that night that Richard Branson’s concert was much better attended than a competing Maduro concert inside Venezuela, which I guess was a victory of sorts. Maduro’s Vice President Delcy Rodriguez announced that all border crossing points would be closed on Saturday, but we had conflicting information on what exactly was closed and what might still be open.

  Saturday morning, large crowds massed on the Colombian side of the border, with riot police in Táchira on the Venezuelan side. Low-level violence continued on the Brazilian border as crowds gathered there as well. Aid supplies had been building for weeks at several checkpoints on both borders, and additional convoys were prepared to arrive at the checkpoints throughout the day, escorted across by volunteers from Colombia or Brazil, to be met on the other side by Venezuelan volunteers. At least that was the plan. Incidents of rock throwing, confrontations with the Venezuelan National Guard, and barricades being moved and replaced increased throughout the day as the times for the attempted crossings drew near. Several midlevel army and navy officers defected, and there were reports that National Guardsmen along the border were defecting as well.36

  Guaidó arrived at the Tienditas International Bridge about nine a.m., prepared to cross. There were reports all day that he was about to cross, but it didn’t happen, without real explanations. In fact, the operation simply fizzled out, with exceptions at some places where volunteers tried to bring aid across; they succeeded on the Brazil border, but not so on the Colombia border. The Pemones were still the most aggressive, seizing the biggest airport in the Brazilian border region and capturing more National Guard troops.37 But between the colectivos and some National Guard units, the level of violence against attempted border crossings rose, and the level of aid getting through did not. There were large demonstrations in Venezuela’s cities, planned to coincide with the humanitarian aid coming in, including outside La Carlota military base in Caracas, with the crowds trying to convince servicemen to defect, unfortunately without success.

  By the end of Saturday, I thought the Opposition had done little to advance its cause. I was disappointed the military had not responded with more defections, esp
ecially at senior levels. And I was amazed Guaidó and Colombia did not execute alternative plans when the colectivos and others stopped aid shipments from coming in, burning trucks on the bridges. Things seemed haphazard and disconnected, whether through lack of advance planning or failure of nerve I couldn’t immediately tell. But if things didn’t pick up in the next few days and Guaidó didn’t get back to Caracas, I was going to start getting worried.

  We were hearing that among Venezuelans, the feeling was that Saturday had been a victory for Guaidó, which struck me as very optimistic. We learned much later that there was speculation that the Colombians had gotten cold feet, fearing a military clash along the border would draw them in, and that after years of fighting counterinsurgency and counternarcotics wars inside Colombia, their troops simply weren’t ready for conventional conflict with Maduro’s armed forces. Nobody figured this out until Saturday? Guaidó was in Bogotá by midafternoon, preparing for Monday’s Lima Group meeting. I still didn’t like the idea of Guaidó’s crossing the border in the first place, let alone hanging out in Colombia for several days, which Maduro used to propagandize that Guaidó was seeking aid from Venezuela’s traditional adversary.

  I spoke to Pence, who was heading to Bogotá to represent the US to the Lima Group, and stressed the need to persuade Guaidó to return to Caracas. A key element of the opposition’s success so far was its cohesion, whereas in the past it had always fragmented. Every day Guaidó was out of the country increased the risk Maduro would find a way to split them again. Pence agreed and said he would be meeting Guaidó in a trilateral with Duque. I also urged Pence to press for more sanctions against the Maduro regime, to show it had to pay a price for blocking the humanitarian aid. Trump had said at the Miami rally that the Venezuelan generals had to make a choice, and Pence could say he was elaborating on Trump’s point.

  I briefed Trump Sunday afternoon, but he seemed unconcerned, which surprised me. He was impressed by the number of defections from the military, which within a few days would be close to five hundred.38 I suspected his mind was on North Korea and the upcoming Hanoi Summit. As the call ended, he said, “Okay, man,” which was his usual signal he was pleased with what he had heard. As I flew to Hanoi, I spoke again with Pence, on his way back to Washington after a firm speech in Bogotá to the Lima Group, who said there was “tremendous spirit in the room,” which was encouraging. Guaidó had impressed him: “Very genuine, very smart, and he gave an extremely strong speech in front of the Lima Group.” I urged Pence to pass his judgment to Trump.

  Venezuela fell off the radar screen while we were in Hanoi, but when I returned from Vietnam on March 1, it was again front and center. Guaidó, now touring Latin America, was at last seriously considering how to reenter Venezuela, whether overland or flying to Caracas directly. I kept Trump posted, and he said to me on Sunday, March 3, “He [Guaidó] doesn’t have what it takes… Stay away from it a little; don’t get too much involved,” which was like saying “Don’t get too pregnant.” In any case, Guaidó seized the initiative the next day, despite the risks, flying into Venezuela that morning. This showed the courage he had demonstrated earlier and relieved me greatly. Live shots over the Internet throughout the day showed Guaidó’s dramatic return to Caracas, which proved to be a triumph. One immigration inspector said to him, “Welcome home, Mr. President!” Riding from the airport through his home state, Guaidó was greeted by cheering crowds the whole way, and no sign of military or police efforts to arrest him.

  Buoyed by Guaidó’s successful return, I was prepared to do the most we could to increase pressure on Maduro, starting with imposing sanctions on the entire government and taking more steps against the banking sector, all of which we should have done in January, but which we ultimately put in place. At a Principals Committee to discuss our plans, Mnuchin was resistant, but he was overwhelmed by others, with Perry politely explaining to him how oil and gas markets actually worked internationally, Kudlow and Ross disputing his economic analysis, and even Kirstjen Nielsen chiming in for stricter sanctions. Pompeo was largely silent. I said, again, we had only two choices in Venezuela: win and lose. Using an analogy from the 1956 Suez Canal Crisis, I said we had Maduro by the windpipe and needed to constrict it, which made Mnuchin start visibly. He was worried that steps in the banking sector would hurt Visa and Mastercard, which he wanted to keep alive for “the day after.”39 I said, as did Perry and Kudlow, there wouldn’t be any “day after” unless we increased pressure dramatically, the sooner the better. This wasn’t some academic exercise. As for Mnuchin’s concern for the harm we would cause the Venezuelan people, I pointed out that Maduro had already killed over forty during this round of Opposition activity, and hundreds of thousands risked their lives every time they went into the streets to protest.40 They weren’t thinking about Visa and Mastercard! The poorest people didn’t have Visa or Mastercard, and they were already crushed by Venezuela’s collapsed economy. Really, there was a revolution going on, and Mnuchin worried about credit cards!

  At the end of March 7, we had word of massive power outages across Venezuela, exacerbated by the decrepit state of the country’s power grid. My first thought was that Guaidó or someone had decided to take matters into their own hands. But whatever the cause or the extent or duration of the outage, it had to hurt Maduro, emblematic as it was of the overall disaster the regime represented for the people. Reporting on the effects of the outage came slowly because almost all Venezuelan domestic telecommunications had been knocked out. What we learned as each day passed confirmed the devastation. Almost the entire country was blacked out, the Caracas airport was closed, the security services seemed to have disappeared, there were reports of looting, and the cacerolazos started again, showing sustained popular dissatisfaction with the regime. How bad was the damage? Some months later, we learned, a visiting foreign delegation concluded the country’s electricity-generating infrastructure was “beyond repair.” The regime tried to blame America, but people generally understood that, like the disintegration of Venezuela’s petroleum industry, the national power grid had also deteriorated over two decades of Chavista rule, because the government had failed to undertake necessary maintenance and new capital investment. And where had the money gone that was required for the state-owned oil company and the national power grid? Into the hands of the thoroughly corrupt regime. If this wasn’t the stuff of popular uprisings, it was hard to know what would qualify. We continued to increase the pressure, with Justice announcing the indictment of two Venezuelan drug-trafficking kingpins (both former regime officials),41 and by the broadly supported ousting of Maduro’s representatives by a majority of the members of the Inter-American Development Bank.42

  Regime efforts to bring up the power grid faltered as power substations exploded under the renewed electrical loads, reflecting widespread, long-term lack of maintenance and antiquated equipment. The loss of telecoms also impaired the coordination of activities nationally, including in key cities like Maracaibo. Guaidó continued his rallies, still drawing sizable crowds, assuring people the Opposition was pressing ahead. The National Assembly declared a “state of alarm” over the outages, not that they had authority to do anything, but at least demonstrating to the people they were thinking about it, compared to Maduro’s near invisibility, an indication of continuing regime disarray. Contacts with regime officials continued, as Guaidó sought leadership fissures to undermine Maduro’s authority.

  Unfortunately, there was also disarray within the US government, particularly at the State Department. Coupled with Treasury foot-dragging, each new step in our pressure campaign against Maduro’s regime took far more time and bureaucratic effort than anyone could justify. Treasury treated every new sanction decision as if we were prosecuting criminal cases in court, having to prove guilt beyond a reasonable doubt. That’s not how sanctions should work; they’re about using America’s massive economic power to advance our national interests. They are most effective when applied massively, swiftly, and
decisively, and enforced with all the power available. This did not describe how we approached Venezuela sanctions (or most others in the Trump Administration). Instead, even relatively minor enforcement decisions could require Stakhanovite efforts by NSC staff and supporters in other agencies, all the while providing Maduro a margin of safety. The regime obviously wasn’t sitting idly by. It was constantly taking measures to evade sanctions and mitigate the consequences of those it couldn’t escape. Our slowness and lack of agility were godsends to Maduro and his regime, and its Cuban and Russian supporters. Unscrupulous global traders and financiers took advantage of every gap in our pressure campaign.43 It was painful to watch.

  Perhaps the most wrenching decision came March 11, when Pompeo decided to close Embassy Caracas and withdraw all US personnel. There were clearly risks to the remaining staff, and the thuggishness of the colectivos was undeniable. Pompeo had built a substantial part of his political reputation by justifiably criticizing the Obama Administration’s errors during the Benghazi crisis in September 2012. As in the earlier reduction of staff levels at Embassy Baghdad and closing the Basra consulate, Pompeo was determined to avoid “another Benghazi” on his watch. Trump was even more sensitive. At Pompeo’s mere indication of risk, Trump decided immediately to withdraw our personnel, which Pompeo did with alacrity.

  Hindsight is always 20/20, but closing Embassy Caracas proved harmful to our anti-Maduro efforts. Most European and Latin American embassies stayed open without incident, but our in-country presence was obviously decreased. And because of Obama’s relaxed attitude about authoritarian regimes and Chinese and Russian threats in the hemisphere, our eyes and ears were already substantially reduced. Even worse, the State Department utterly mishandled the aftermath, not sending Jimmy Story, our Venezuela Chargé d’Affaires, and at least some of his team immediately back to Colombia, where they could work closely with Embassy Bogotá to continue their work across the border. Instead, the Western Hemisphere bureau kept the team in Washington to hold them more closely under its control. It did nothing to help our efforts to oust Maduro.