

I
n Venezuela, the year that stands out in my memory is 2009. I remember that trip. It was Thanksgiving, and while in the United States (where I was living) tables were being set for family and friends, I was landing in Caracas to interview Eulogio del Pino, then vice president and head of production and exploration at PDVSA (del Pino, in one of the many twists and turns of Venezuelan history, was later arrested by the Maduro regime on charges of corruption). One image struck me: in the corridors of the large national oil company, many employees wore red T-shirts and shirts, the color of Hugo Chávez’s Bolivarian revolution. Del Pino spoke about the future, about a Venezuela ready to transform itself into an energy superpower and more. They were dreams, utopias of a revolution without democracy. An operation by the American Delta Force put an end to that story, and today Nicolás Maduro is in a US prison, reigniting hopes.
In Venezuela, oil has never been just an economic issue, a budget item, or the country’s only real source of revenue. Oil has always been—and remains—a global geopolitical linchpin. With approximately 303 billion barrels of proven reserves, Venezuela is the world leader in future oil fields, holding almost 20 percent of the world total. It is followed by Saudi Arabia with 267 billion barrels and Iran with 209 billion barrels. Only the Saudis are fully operational in the market, while Venezuela and Iran are in the eye of the storm of history—countries under sanctions on the brink of profound political transition.
This concentration of energy resources—with the return of the “Monroe Doctrine” in the Western Hemisphere and the expansion of the Abraham Accords in the Middle East—is one of the tools of the new-old American foreign policy. We are in a middle ground, between the past and the future, at the beginning of the 21st century and at the dawn of the technological boom of the Third Millennium. The chessboard tells the story as it unfolds; just look at the routes of the oil tankers: 80 percent of Venezuelan crude oil ends up in China, while Iran is the Middle Eastern ally of that axis, which also includes Russia (which finances its war economy with oil and gas).
While the story of Iran is still to be written, the Venezuelan situation is beginning to take shape. Just six days after Maduro’s arrest, Donald Trump summoned the heads of the major US and international oil companies, including Eni, to the White House and signed an executive order to protect investments in the country, offering legal and regulatory guarantees after years of controversy and nationalization. The US president’s recovery plan aims to invest USD 100 billion to bring Venezuelan production from the current 1.1 million barrels per day to at least 3 million. “Eni is ready to invest in Venezuela. We have 500 people in the country. We are ready to collaborate and work with American companies,” said Claudio Descalzi, who heads one of the few major international players still operating in Venezuela, through the Perla offshore gas field (50 percent managed with Repsol), which is a vital asset for the country’s energy supply. This activity has generated approximately USD 3 billion in credits with PDVSA. Eni is also present in the Junin 5 and Corocoro oil fields.
So, what is Washington’s strategy? It seems aimed at rebalancing the influence of OPEC+ as the dominant price cartel, dealing directly with producers and energy companies to disconnect Venezuela from Russia and China and project it into the orbit of Western consumers. Oil revenues, according to the White House, should yield peace, prosperity, and stability in Venezuela. They are the sovereign property of the country, held by the United States for geopolitical purposes. This is the key point. Because, 15 years later, the Venezuela I was told about, the country I saw with my own eyes that Thanksgiving Day, far from my home in Houston and close to a story yet to be written, has become more than just an ambition. It is what is at stake.