1 May 2025 | Americas, News and features, Venezuela
This article first appeared in Volume 54, Issue 1 of our print edition of Index on Censorship, titled The forgotten patients: Lost voices in the global healthcare system, published on 11 April 2025. Read more about the issue here.
When lawyer Perkins Rocha was seized by forces while leaving a pharmacy in Caracas on 27 August 2024, his family found out he had been taken only when they saw a post on social media platform X.
A frantic investigation began to find out where Rocha, the legal co-ordinator for Venezuela’s election campaign for the political opposition, was being held – and to speak to those who had seen what had happened.
“Witnesses told us that hooded men approached him and a strong struggle began. They hit him and dragged him to one of the unmarked vehicles they were in, and took him away,” his son Santiago told Index. The family haven’t seen or heard from him since.
The highest number of political prisoners in Latin America
Rocha’s case is far from an isolated one. According to human rights organisation Foro Penal, Venezuela had 1,196 political prisoners as of 3 February 2025. The country has the most political prisoners in Latin America – followed by Cuba with 1,150 – and has a history of using repression and arbitrary detentions as a means of silencing and punishing those with anti-government views.
This pattern has intensified following the July 2024 presidential election, which incumbent Nicolás Maduro insisted he won despite evidence from voting tally receipts showing opposition candidate Edmundo González Urrutia won by a landslide with 67% of the vote.
Protests demanding that the state acknowledge the opposition’s legitimate win followed, and with them a swathe of arrests and detentions during random street searches by police looking for content on people’s phones that criticised the government. Others were detained during Operation Knock Knock, where security forces arrived at people’s houses (often late at night) to arrest them and take them to prison.
Arbitrary detentions designed to force dissenters to stay silent started well before last year’s election. But according to human rights group The Venezuelan Education-Action Programme on Human Rights (Provea), the sheer number of arrests in a short space of time during the 2024 crackdown was on a different level from previous years. Between 29 July and 13 August, roughly 2,400 people were arrested, which is an average of 150 arrests a day.
It is not only the scale of detentions that highlights the intensified repression but also the charges against those being held. According to Marino Alvarado, legal action co-ordinator at Provea, all the prisoners were initially charged with terrorism, including children and teenagers. Maduro referred to those detained as “terrorists” in a televised address.
“In some cases, in addition to the crime of terrorism, [they were charged with] treason, criminal association and other crimes, but all were tried by anti- terrorism courts,” Alvarado told Index. Legal representation is also unsatisfactory, with public lawyers being “imposed” on political prisoners rather than them having the option to choose a “trusted, private lawyer”. “In addition to having a lot of work, public lawyers receive direct orders from the state, and detained people are left without the right to a defence,” said Alvarado.
Dire conditions within prisons
Conditions within prisons are notoriously grim. Some do not permit visits from families, but others allow them every 15 days – although sometimes these are cancelled by the authorities. When people do see their loved ones, it is often a heart- wrenching experience. “I noticed he was shaky and nervous and I asked him what was wrong,” said Maritza, whose name has been changed for her own safety and for that of her son, who was detained a few days after the July 2024 protests. She described him as a young man who was normally calm and confident.
“Eventually he said to me, ‘Mum, when I get out of here I’m going to tell you everything I’ve been through, but while I’m here I’m going to keep quiet and endure what I’m living [through] because I don’t want to anger [the authorities].’” A report from the Committee for the Freedom of Political Prisoners (CLIPPVE) highlighted that food rations inside the prisons were often tiny and insufficient, sometimes contained insects and were rotten or not sufficiently cooked. The information is based on testimonies from families of those in jail, as well as ex-prisoners. Many of the prisoners have lost weight and have experienced stomach illnesses. One woman whose son has been held in Tocuyito Prison said she couldn’t even recognise him when she saw him. “He was so thin and malnourished that I had him in front of me and I wouldn’t know it was him,” she said.
In November and December, three political prisoners died. One of them, Jesús Manuel Martínez Medina, was detained on 29 July and allegedly mistreated and denied the necessary medical care to treat his Type II diabetes, according to CLIPPVE. The NGO says the 36-year-old’s health deteriorated rapidly due to lack of treatment. Although he was transferred to hospital, he died on 14 November during an operation to amputate his legs.
Medical attention is severely lacking in the prisons. Santiago Rocha said he was constantly worried about the health of his father, who suffers from hydrocephalus – a build-up of fluid in the brain. He has a fitted valve connected from his brain to his stomach to drain the fluid.
“We always have this fear that no one is watching him, no one is checking on him. Any blow or movement that is abrupt could alter the functioning of that valve and the hose,” the 30-year-old said. He eventually discovered his father had been taken to el Helicoide, a notorious jail known for holding political prisoners and for its use of torture. “We don’t know if my dad has seen the sun in days, weeks or months, if he has eaten well or if they have tortured him,” he added.
Erosion of a democratic state
Some of those taken have been tortured. One of those is Jesús Armas, an engineer, human rights activist and member of the opposition campaign team, who was taken by hooded individuals on 10 December 2024 while leaving a restaurant in Caracas and whose whereabouts were not known for days. “His girlfriend managed to see him for 15 minutes before he was transferred to el Helicoide prison. He told her he had been held in a clandestine house, suffocated with a bag and left tied to a chair for several days,” said Genesis Davila, a lawyer and founder of Defiende Venezuela, an organisation that presents human rights violations in Venezuela to international legal institutions.
As is the case with many political prisoners, public prosecutors, judges and defence lawyers denied knowing about Armas’s detention for days. “But while they said this, Jesús had already been presented before a court, there was already a prosecutor who knew the case and there was also a public defender who had been assigned to [his]’ case,” Davila said.
Repression has intensified under the socialist regime. When Hugo Chávez first took office in 1999, he did so on a wave of popular support and spent huge amounts on social programmes such as adult literacy projects and free community healthcare for impoverished communities, largely funded by the country’s oil wealth.
But alongside this he started to concentrate power, taking control of the Supreme Court and undermining the ability of journalists, human rights defenders and other Venezuelans to exercise fundamental rights, according to a Human Rights Watch report that reflected on his legacy.
Maduro took over the presidency when Hugo Chávez died of cancer in 2013. A drop in oil prices, mismanagement of resources and corruption led to a dire economic and humanitarian crisis (exacerbated by US sanctions, according to many analysts). Brutal state crackdowns on anti- government protests in 2014, 2017 and 2019 led to deaths and mass detentions. For Phil Gunson, a senior analyst at the think-tank International Crisis Group, repression has worsened significantly in Venezuela since 1999. The less popular the government became, the more it used repression to stay in power, which became even clearer in its use of heavy-handed tactics in the 2024 protests.
“The government is entirely dependent on the army and the police,” said Gunson. “That doesn’t just mean harassing and detaining dissidents but treating them so badly that no one dares to protest.” The analyst says impunity is another reason for rising repression. “Venezuelans have no recourse if they suffer abuse at the hands of the government, and members of the security forces can be fairly certain there will be no consequences if they commit human rights abuses.”
For those with families in prison, their daily nightmare is unbearable – yet they say giving up hope for their loved ones’ release and a free Venezuela is not an option. “I try to keep him in mind as I go about my day-to-day life, asking myself what he would want me to do at this moment,” Santiago Rocha said, describing his dad as a loving father and a man with strong ideals. “I keep him like this so I don’t feel far away from him and remember that all the work he – and the people who have worked with him – have done will not be in vain.
29 Nov 2024 | News and features, Venezuela
As thoughts turn to the festive season, Americans will have the chance to ponder what the New Year and a Donald Trump presidency will mean. But this is not the only significant election in the continent to have happened this year.
This weekend Venezuelans will take to the streets to demonstrate against President Nicolás Maduro’s refusal to acknowledge his defeat in elections on 28 July. The opposition candidate, 75-year-old Edmundo González Urrutia, has pledged to return to the country from exile in Spain to take office on 10 January 2025, ten days before the Trump inauguration. His victory has been recognised by the international community, including the White House.
International human rights groups have raised concerns about the increasing authoritarianism of the Maduro government with widespread surveillance of its citizens and arbitrary detention of political opponents. According to UNHCR, the United Nations refugee agency, 7.7 million Venezuelans have left the country as of May 2024, which accounts for roughly 20% of the entire population.
González, who has never stood for office before, took the place of the original opposition candidate Maria Corina Machado, when she was banned from standing by the government and forced into hiding. Machado now faces charges from the Venezuelan federal prosecutor, which accuses her of supporting American sanctions against her country.
Machado has joined fellow opposition figure Magalli Meda in calling for protestors around the world to paint their hands red as a symbol of the suffering of the Venezuelan people as they take to the streets around the world. The UN reported that at least 23 protesters were killed at anti-government demonstrations in the weeks after the election and approximately 2,400 were arrested.
Despite the desperate situation for Venezuela as it sinks further into economic crisis and international isolation, this year’s elections have provided a model of democratic activism. Voters were shocked when the government announced that Maduro had gained a convenient 51 per cent of the vote but failed to provide numbers. This in a country whose election system was described by the Carter Center, set up by the former US President Jimmy Carter, as “the best in the world”.
In this context, readers of this newsletter would be advised to listen to the latest episode of the This American Life podcast, which includes a report on Venezuela by Nancy Updike. A transcript is also available.
Updike tells the story of the movement, led by citizens, to document the country’s entire voting record, precisely in case that Maduro’s ruling party tried to fix the vote. The movement was called Seiscientos Kah, which means 600k, and was so named because of the number of volunteers needed to make the checks. The organiser is now in hiding.
Every voting machine in Venezuela prints out a tally of votes for each candidate on election day. Each candidate is allowed a witness at every one of the 30,000 machines stationed around the country. 600k was set up as a giant relay race with the witnesses at the start and activists collecting the results and taking them to monitoring centres at secret locations. Here, using a laptop, a scanner, and a portable generator, the results were then uploaded to a website and the original copies taken to a separate secret location.
This extraordinary process meant that when polling closed, opposition supporters across the country uploaded videos of people reading out the results, which had come directly from the voting machines.
The situation in Venezuela remains grim. Updike quotes from a UN report on the protests against Maduro after the election. Those charged with terrorism and incitement to hatred included: “opposition political leaders, individuals who simply participated in the protests, persons who sympathised with the opposition or criticised the government, journalists who covered the protests, lawyers for those detained, human rights defenders, and members of the academic community”.
A statement from a member of the UN fact-finding mission said that many of those detained: “were subjected to torture and other cruel, inhuman, or degrading treatment, as well as sexual violence, which was perpetrated against women and girls, but also against men”.
Maduro has called the actions of the 600k movement a “coup”. In fact, it may provide a blueprint for the fight against election-rigging by authoritarian governments around the world.
18 Jul 2024 | Americas, News and features, Venezuela
Venezuelans will cast their vote for the country’s next leader next Sunday, choosing between a president who is dominating the public space but has not answered a reporter’s question since last year, and an opposition candidate who is all but barred from TV and radio and is relying on social media to spread his message.
The election on 28 July sees authoritarian president Nicolas Maduro squaring off against opposition candidate Edmundo Gonzalez, who is leading in the polls despite receiving almost no exposure on traditional media.
Instead, Gonzalez and his main backer, opposition leader Maria Corina Machado, have relied on Instagram and TikTok videos, as well as WhatsApp viral messages, to galvanise the democratic opposition ahead of the vote.
This week, Caracas is plastered with election banners showing a smiling Maduro projecting confidence for Venezuela’s future, but journalists hoping to travel to Venezuela to interview him are set for a letdown, as the authoritarian leader has not conceded an interview since December and several international media have seen their visa requests denied in recent days.
The country’s Ministry of Communication closed applications to cover the election on 19 April. Everyone entering the country to report without proper accreditation, or outside the dates granted by the ministry, is at risk of being deported.
Maduro’s weekly agenda is top secret for security reasons, which means most reporters who are already in Venezuela are not informed when the candidate is holding a rally and are kept away from the campaign.
Earlier this month, Reporters Without Borders called on Venezuelan authorities to allow local and international journalists to cover the election, especially since the government withdrew an invitation for EU electoral observers in June.
Yet, in the first week of the campaign Maduro has racked up over 1,400 minutes of airtime on Venezuela’s public television station, while none of the other candidates were covered for more than 15 minutes, the Spanish news agency EFE reported.
None of this is new for Venezuela, a country where almost 300 radio stations were shut down by the National Telecommunications Commission (CONATEL) in the last two decades on charges of operating clandestinely, according to the local NGO Espacio Público — it has been reported today that their site has been geoblocked.
Radio stations are particularly censored, critics claim, because in a country with chronic electricity and internet problems, they often represent the only information channel available to the most vulnerable sectors of the country, where government support is stronger.
“When Gonzalez announced his candidature a couple months ago, all international media started interviewing him, but did we? We can’t do that,” a radio journalist in Caracas told Index this week, asking for their identity to remain anonymous for fears of being fired if they denounced censorship in the workplace.
Government censors from CONATEL constantly monitor the airwaves searching for dissident content and send warnings to the radio station’s management if any programme is deemed too leaning against the government, the reporter told Index.
The current tension in the newsroom is reminiscent of another recent episode of political tension, when opposition leader Juan Guaidó mounted a constitutional challenge against Maduro by swearing himself in as interim president.
“Our programme was taken off the air back then when two guests, political analysts, both referred to the government as ‘the dictatorship of Nicolas Maduro,’” the reporter told Index.
“I remember it was a Friday, I left the office and went home. The following Sunday I was doing calls to plan the week ahead when our executive producer told me the programme was being cancelled. Management decided to take the show off the air because CONATEL had called in, complaining that nobody corrected the guests. I spent the following four months doing nothing before a new programme came around,” they said.
From that moment, all radio studios in this reporter’s organisation have installed an instruction document next to the main console, advising the programme’s director to correct any guest suggesting Maduro’s government is not legitimate.
In recent years, radio stations have diversified their coverage by allowing reporters to write more freely when posting online, where the government’s censors have a harder time controlling who’s behind problematic content.
This double standard, however, only makes the self-censorship on radio programmes even more evident.
“Online we made a profile of each candidate running in the election, we also did other opposition leaders… But on air? That’s not going to happen,” the reporter said.
Luz Mely Reyes, who co-founded online media Efecto Cocuyo in 2015 after decades working in print, told Index that none of this is new, saying: “Censorship in Venezuela is systemic, it runs deeper than the yoke on radio and TV stations.”
Despite escaping the jurisdiction of CONATEL’s censors, Venezuelans need a VPN to access Efecto Cocuyo’s URL, which is geoblocked by the government. Venezuelan companies are also wary of purchasing adverts on the website, fearful they might incur trouble with the government.
“Sometimes, security becomes a factor too. You end up asking yourself: is it worth it to send one of my reporters to cover this, or that? It’s not like they give you an order, they want to force you to self-censor your coverage,” Reyes told Index.
Still, both traditional and new media are finding new strategies to keep the lights on for free information in Venezuela.
“Silence in radio speaks volumes, sometimes, I just leave blanks in the radio report,” the anonymous radio reporter told Index. “I can’t say that this is an authoritarian regime, but I can give the latest malnutrition figures an organisation has shared, and in the end the audience can make up their mind.”
After a moment of pause, they sighed: “Being a journalist in Venezuela is frustrating: there are no opportunities, the pay is shit, and journalism itself is at risk… but what fuels me is the hope that, one day, things change.”
30 May 2017 | Campaigns -- Featured, Digital Freedom, Digital Freedom Statements, Statements
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On 16 May the Venezuelan government issued Executive Order 2489 to extend the “state of emergency” in Venezuela, in place since May 2016. This new extension authorises internet policing and content filtering. This measure deepens the restrictions to the free flow of information online even more. They include the blocking of streaming news outlets, such as VivoPlay, VPITV, and CapitolioTV. Other serious practices that prevail in Venezuela are the aggressions of military and police personnel to journalists and civilian reporters, and the detention of citizens in the wake of content published on social networks.
This happens in a context of a general deterioration of telecommunications, as a consequence of the divestment in the sector in the last 10 years. This has turned Venezuela into the country with the worst internet connection quality in the Latin American region. Given the censorship practices applied to traditional media, the internet has become an essential tool for the freedom of expression and access to information of the Venezuelan people.
The measures taken by the Venezuelan Government to restrict online content constitute restrictions to the fundamental rights of Venezuelan citizens and, as such, do not comply with the minimum requirements of proportionality, legality, and suitability. The Venezuelan Government has systematically ignored civil society requests regarding the total number of blocked websites. To this date, there is evidence of the blocking of 41 websites, but it is suspected that many more websites are being blocked. The legal and technical processes applied by the government to determine and execute the blocking of websites remain unknown.
These kinds of practices affect the exercise of human rights. In a joint release, the rapporteurs for freedom of expression of the UN and the IACHR condemned the “censorship and blocking of information both in traditional media and on the internet”. During the last few months, three streaming tv providers have been blocked without a previous court order. Moreover, the Government has used unregulated surveillance technologies that affect the fundamental rights of citizens, such as surveillance drones to track and watch demonstrators, while at the same time expanding its internet surveillance prerogatives, through the creation of bodies such as CESPPA.
In addition to this, the government has implemented mechanisms for the collection of biometric data without citizens being able to determine their purpose nor who has access to such information. The official discourse towards the internet, and specifically to social networks, is disturbing: the director of the National Telecommunications Commission has recently declared that social networks are “dangerous” and a tool for “non-conventional war”.
The sum of this factors, aggravated by the passage of time and the deepening of the social and political crisis, outlines the creation of a state of censorship, control, and surveillance that gravely affects the exercise of human rights. Quality access to a free and neutral internet is recognised internationally as a necessary condition for the exercise of freedom expression, communication and the access to information, and as a precondition of the existence of a democratic society. In that regard, the undersigned civil society and academic organisations wish to set our position in the following terms:
We express our condemnation to the extension of the state of exception in Venezuela, as well as to the restrictions to the free flow of online content that derive from it.
We manifest our concern for the growing deterioration of internet access infrastructure and telecommunications in Venezuela. The maintenance of such systems is of vital importance for education, innovation, and the communication of Venezuelans.
We emphasise that the use and implementation of technological tools such as drones and biometric identification systems must fit human rights standards and not affect the fundamental freedoms of citizens, in particular their privacy and autonomy.
We insist that all measures that restrict the free exercise of fundamental rights, such as the blocking of web pages, must comply with the minimum requisites of proportionality, legality and suitability, and in consequence, must be only adopted by judicial authorities following a due process.
We request the ending of the harassing actions and insulting speech conducted by public servants online against NGOs and human rights activists that document and denounce acts through digital platforms.
We demand the cessation of military and police aggressions against journalists and citizen reporters.
We request transparency on the actions taken to restrict internet traffic and content and demand an answer to the requests for public information made by civil society regarding the practices of content blocking and filtering executed by the public administration.
Signed,
Derechos Digitales
Instituto Prensa y Sociedad de Venezuela
Acceso Libre (Venezuela)
(DTES-ULA) Dirección de Telecomunicaciones y Servicios de la Universidad de los Andes
Venezuela Inteligente
Public Knowledge
Access Now
Espacio Público (Venezuela)
Hiperderecho (Perú)
Son Tus Datos (México)
Alfa-Redi (Perú)
Centro de Derechos Humanos de la Universidad Católica Andrés Bello
EXCUBITUS Derechos Humanos en Educación
IPANDETEC (Panamá)
Sursiendo, comunicación y cultura digital
Red en defensa de los derechos digitales, R3D
Global Voices Advox
Asuntos del Sur
Internet Sans Frontières (Internet Without Borders)
Center for Media Research – Nepal
Index on Censorship[/vc_column_text][/vc_column][/vc_row][vc_row][vc_column][vc_basic_grid post_type=”post” max_items=”4″ element_width=”6″ grid_id=”vc_gid:1496155906014-ceb40fec-308b-10″ taxonomies=”13, 6914″][/vc_column][/vc_row]
