Venezuelan exiles in Florida are divided between the option of war and the path of diplomacy

On the streets of Doral, Florida, where many Venezuelans fleeing their country live, two positions coexist: those who still defend the diplomatic path, and those who believe that after more than 15 years of crisis between Venezuela and the United States, this path has been exhausted.

Among those calling for radical change in Caracas is the famous journalist Gaby Perozo, who has been living in exile for more than 10 years. She spoke without hesitation, as if she no longer cared to mince her words.

“I think this is absolutely necessary,” she said regarding a possible US military operation in Venezuela, adding: “Those who understand the nature of that regime know that this is the only way to restore democracy.”

Perozzo, 49 years old, rejects the idea of ​​a prolonged American occupation of her country, and prefers the term “surgical intervention,” which is something quick, precise, and decisive, as she describes it.

She says: “No one wants military intervention, but the Venezuelans did everything they could.”

According to Peruzo, this is not an act of foreign domination, but rather a necessary act, considering that “the more governments like Venezuela’s control, the greater the danger to Mexico, Colombia, and the United States, among other countries.”

Perozo adds that her family in Venezuela feels the same way. “My mother, my sister, and my nephews are all there, and they are worried, but they say: ‘If something happens to us, it doesn’t matter. We have to do it for the youth.’”

One last chance

On the other side of the debate stands Francisco Pollio, a 35-year-old businessman, still hoping for one last chance at dialogue, aware of the dire consequences that war might bring.

Pollio says: “The best option is for Nicolas Maduro (Venezuelan President) to acknowledge the results of the July 28, 2024 elections, which he lost in a landslide, and step down from office. This would be the ideal scenario.”

But the young businessman admits that this idea is difficult to implement. “Maduro is not just a president. He is the spokesman for a large group, where every leader has his share of power, and there are also international interests in the game.”

Beaulieu rules out the occurrence of a war such as the Iraq or Afghanistan war, and what he sees as possible and likely are targeted military operations “with the forces that are already present in the Caribbean region,” and he asserts that “pressure can be exerted without the need for direct intervention.”

Hesitant group

Among the exiles in Florida there is also a hesitant group, which is apparently larger than it seems. They do not want war, but they do not see a way out of the crisis either.

One of them, who requested to remain anonymous because he has family in Caracas, expresses it this way, saying: “If you asked me if I wanted a war or an invasion, I would say no, but after exhausting all avenues (dialogue and elections) there are no other options left.”

This Venezuelan participated in the protests, voted and demonstrated, and even took to the streets whenever he was called to do so, and about that he says with concern: “Nothing ever happened, there is no institutional framework, everything is controlled.”

The Doral community in Florida is part of this diagnosis, but it adds nuance. According to one exiled Venezuelan, “The American president, Donald Trump, is not a war leader. He is not one. He does not like weapons or bombs,” adding, “But at the same time he does not deal with diplomats either.”

However, although she acknowledges that the scenario is uncertain, Venezuelan Sabrina Gonzalez is confident that economic and military pressure “will have an effect in the end,” because “when they cannot transport drugs, as they have done for more than 20 years, this pressure will bear fruit.”

Questions about military intervention inevitably coexist with the emotions that US policy arouses in this community, and for many exiles, the Venezuelan crisis is discussed not only from the perspective of the Caribbean, but also from the perspective of Washington, and here a key figure emerges: Donald Trump.

disappointment

Recently, the exiled Venezuelan community in Florida has been supportive of the Republican Party, and in 2020, Trump enjoyed widespread support among Venezuelans in South Florida, most of whom were drawn to his harsh rhetoric against Maduro and his promise that “all options are on the table.”

In 2024, this support was evident again, in cities such as Doral and Weston, which also have large populations of Venezuelan origin, and the Venezuelan vote tilted it significantly in the US president’s favor.

But his decision to revoke temporary protected status for more than half a million Venezuelans has clearly divided, and in Doral many are calling the action a “disappointment” and even a “betrayal,” an inexplicable punishment for those who fled the country that Washington now classifies as a threat.

As businessman Francisco Puleo, who has lived in Florida since 2016, says: “Revoking the temporary protected status of citizens of a country that you have just designated as a terrorist organization makes no sense.”

Despite widespread discontent in Doral, even among those critical of the White House’s immigration measures, the idea persists that everything could change if Trump achieved a real political shift in Caracas.

“If Trump brings about change in Venezuela, it will erase any wounds he has caused with his policies,” Beaulieu explains, while another Venezuelan citizen is convinced that “even though these changes (related to immigration) have hurt us, of course we would be grateful if they liberated the country.” About “El Pais”

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A state of anticipation

The Venezuelan community in exile, which used to protest, demonstrate, and demand change, now lives in a tense state of suspense, watching movements in the Caribbean, choosing its words carefully, calculating timing, and the exiles await an outcome that may have changed everything thanks to the actions of the United States government that they now call “home.”

Meanwhile, Venezuelan exiles continue to express their opinions in whispers in cafes and restaurants, during phone calls, and in messages that many later delete. No one knows what will happen, but everyone agrees on one thing: “Let it happen, but let it happen quickly.”

. Trump’s decision to revoke the temporary protected status of more than half a million Venezuelans has clearly caused division.