The images in this post are AI generated. Pictures of the people discussed in the piece can be found on the links inserted.
The findings in this report were only possible because of the uphill work of the NGO Foro Penal and other human rights organizations. Documenting arbitrary, politically motivated detentions in Venezuela is dangerous work. Victims come from many walks of life — not just opposition politicians, but people framed by false charges to serve propaganda, public servants doing their jobs despite political pressure, citizens punished for social media posts, members of the military, and even former regime loyalists labeled “traitors.” Chavismo and Madurismo spare no one: anyone can fall into their chokehold.
The U.S. government has pressured the acting authorities of Venezuela led by Delcy Rodríguez to free over 780 political prisoners, as announced by her brother, National Assembly president, Jorge Rodríguez this past January 8th. With the capture of their leader, Nicolás Maduro and his wife, Celia Flores, the regime has shifted their rhetoric approach to the Venezuelan dissidence incarcerated in precarious conditions.
The process has been slow and torturous for family members waiting outside detention centers; they often lack proof of life, sometimes don’t know where their loved ones were taken after being arrested, and many have been held in incommunicado detention. Since the announcement of some releases, more has come to light: many families have come forward and made their loved ones’ captures public.
Vice president of Foro Penal, Gonzalo Himiob, explains that intimidation to enforce silence is a technique used by the regime to prevent families from going to the media to denounce unlawful imprisonment. Families believed their silence would protect their relatives, but in practice they remain underreported and difficult to trace.
In the meantime, a contingent of the PNB has been deployed on January 27 in front of El Helicoide (torture prison), where relatives of political prisoners have kept a 20‑day vigil demanding their release.
So far, only 302 (as of January 30) of them are out of the centers but are not totally free. The terms of their release are still constrained by conditions that threaten them to be sent back. Those in Venezuela can’t give declarations to the media as some of the 86 foreign detainees who are now returned to their home countries and narrate how they were victims of physical and psychological torture.
Protests demanding the immediate release of the remaining detainees started early on January 23, a symbolic date marking the 68th anniversary of the fall of the Pérez Jiménez dictatorship in 1958 and considered as the national Day of Democracy in Venezuela. Students displayed banners at 11 Venezuelan universities: LUZ (Zulia), UC (Aragua), UCAB (Caracas), UCLA (Lara), UCV (Caracas), UDO (Monagas), UDO (Nueva Esparta), UDO (Sucre), ULA (Mérida) and UNELLEZ (Barinas). In the country, student movements played decisive roles in key moments in history, so they carry strong moral and democratic weight.
Update: January 30, 11:50 p. m local time in Caracas
Delcy Rodríguez announced a proposed general amnesty law that could lead to the release of hundreds of prisoners held for political reasons, while admitting to political violence since 1999. The director of Foro Penal, Alfredo Romero, told NTN24 that he hopes this law will not become an instrument of impunity to benefit those who committed human rights violations, but will instead focus on granting full freedom and reparations to victims of political persecution.
Since 2014, Foro Penal has recorded 18,503 cases it classifies as “political detentions”. Political prisoners have been incarcerated in violation of due process and their constitutional rights to freedom of expression and association. As a repressive tactic, these actions have been justified as fighting “the enemy within.” The modus operandi includes fabricating evidence, deploying extreme nationalism, and criminalizing previously lawful conduct through retroactive ordinances and amendments. In the worst cases, around 17 have died in custody. The crackdown of dissents became famously known as Operation Tun Tun (Spanish for knock knock).
The regime also uses political prisoners as hostages to manipulate negotiations with the opposition and the international community, impose conditions, and buy time. They engage in a revolving door tactic: releasing some detainees while arresting others, so the total number remains steady and the message of control persists. It’s a cyclical release-and-recapture practices that create the appearance of concession while maintaining repression and deterrence
Foro Penal defines the purposes of such detentions and those persecuted into six categories:
- Exclusion: remove political leaders or threats by eliminating, isolating, or neutralizing them.
- Intimidation: target individuals to frighten or silence an entire social group (students, journalists, human rights defenders, judges, military, activists).
- Propaganda: use detainees to support a political narrative or deflect blame for government failures.
- Extraction: detain people (often relatives) to force information about other political targets, frequently using torture.
- Revenge: abuse of power to punish individuals for personal motives, not broader political aims.
- Hostages: hold people to pressure other states or organizations or to influence international relations.
Beyond numbers and technical terms, the faces of these people are blurred and dehumanized. The prisoners of the Venezuelan regime are everyday people with rights and aspirations cut short and left defenseless. This is who they are.
Who are the political prisoners in Venezuela?
Prominent figures
Prominent political prisoners represent a major obstacle to the regime’s bid for absolute power: they include popular opposition leaders, elected officials, judges, and human rights activists and union workers.
Statuses have changed over time; some were released or are in exile such as opposition leader Leopoldo López, National Assembly deputies like Juan Requesens and Edgar Zambrano, Juan Guaidó’s chief of staff Roberto Marrero, student activist Lorent Saleh and the mayor of Caracas Antonio Ledezma, and a range of activists, student leaders, and local politicians detained during the protests. Maria Lourdes Afiuni became a symbolic judicial persecutor after her 2009 detention; her case exemplifies the targeting of judges who ruled against the regime.
The death of Fernando Albán sparked international condemnation. He was a lawyer and opposition councilman for Caracas who died in 2018 while in custody of the SEBIN intelligence service. Authorities initially claimed suicide, but in 2021, Attorney General Tarek William Saab acknowledged that Albán had not committed suicide, he was tortured and thrown from the window by two SEBIN officers guarding him.
Notable cases of high‑profile military and political figures labeled “traitors” of the Chavista Revolution include Raúl Baduel, a former general and defense minister who broke with the government and later died in detention under contested circumstances, and Enrique Márquez, targeted for rejecting the results of the 2024 presidential elections, who was one of the first to be released after January 8.
Other prominent figures detained after the 2024 protests were released to appease the Trump Administration. Rocío San Miguel, president of Control Ciudadano (now in Spain); Rafael Tudares, son‑in‑law of president‑elect Edmundo González, released under alleged coercive conditions; Kennedy Tejeda, human rights lawyer for Foro Penal; and legal advisor Perkins Rocha.
Journalists and media workers who report independently face sustained harassment including equipment seizures, criminal charges such as public disorder or incitement, imprisonment, and travel bans; journalists like Luis Carlos Díaz, Darvinson Rojas and Ronald Carreño endured detention, legal persecution and further criminalization of their professional duty. There are at least five out of 19 reporters who remain in detention.
Javier Tarazona and Eduardo Torres are among the many human rights activists persecuted by the regime that are still in prison. As of now, the country is also awaiting the release of Juan Pablo Guanipa, former governor of Zulia and prominent ally of María Corina Machado, and Freddy Superlano, former National Assembly deputy and regional opposition figure.
Military and security personnel
The first recorded political prisoners of the Chavista Revolución still detained 23 years later are police officers from the dismantled Metropolitan Police, arrested for their alleged roles in violent incidents and other offenses tied to the 2002 coup attempt and subsequent unrest. Critics, human-rights groups and the defendants’ families argue the prosecutions were politically motivated, evidentiary defenses were ignored, and due‑process guarantees were denied. Out of the nine, only three remain behind bars: Héctor Rovaín, Erasmo Bolìvar y Luis Molina.
About 174 military personnel are political prisoners. Rafael Acosta Arévalo was a navy officer arrested in 2019 in a widely publicized case. His case became emblematic of abuses against military personnel and political prisoners in Venezuela.
Authorities accused Acosta Arévalo of participating in a plot to overthrow the government; he was shown on television during interrogation and was later reported to have died in custody seven days after his capture. Official accounts claimed death from a heart attack, while multiple independent sources, family members, and human-rights organizations alleged he died as a result of torture and severe mistreatment sustained while in detention.
Another case is Lieutenant Colonel Víctor Eduardo Soto Méndez, detained in 2018 and transferred to DGCIM facilities in Caracas where he was held incommunicado and reportedly subjected to repeated interrogations, hooding, tear gas exposure and beatings. He was tried by a military court, convicted of instigation to rebellion, and imprisoned. In detention he developed or worsened kidney stones, hypertension, lumbar disc herniations and limited mobility from an old ankle injury. After finishing his sentence he told his wife he was being taken to court (presumably for release) but never arrived and is now considered disappeared.
Most vulnerable and your friendly neighbors
Indigenous peoples, women, children, people with disabilities, and bystandars are disproportionately at risk during security operations and detentions. Regardless of their vulnerability, they are also denied timely medical care or legal representation. These are community defenders and local organizers as well. Mostly, neighbours who run communal councils, lead local protests, distribute humanitarian aid or document abuses.
Indigineous communities and defenseless are at the mercy of guerrilla groups. Denouncing violence against their people and explotation of natural habitats can cost them their lives. Salvador Franco, a Pemon man who died in custody in 2021 amid reports of mistreatment and medical neglect, exemplifies these heightened vulnerabilities. Other 12 members of the tribe were also detained and released alive later that year. On January 27, José Alain Linares Lima, a Puinave man who had been detained in Puerto Ayacucho for liking a video on social media that criticized the regime, was released.
Maduro regime is known for exploiting vague laws to criminalize online speech. Marggie Orozco Tapias, a 65-year-old doctor, was sentenced in 2024 to 30 years in prison after sending a WhatsApp voice message urging neighbors to vote against Nicolás Maduro and blaming him for the economic crisis. She was accused of treason, conspiracy, and incitement to hatred under the controversial Law Against Hatred, she remained detained despite suffering a heart attack during custody and was released in November 2025. Like her, Marcos Palma, 50, was sentenced to 15 years for a WhatsApp audio complaining about a domestic gas cylinder delivery and calling neighbors to protest; and Randal Telles, 22, a nursing student, sentenced to 15 years over a TikTok video criticizing Maduro and Diosdado Cabello.
Human Rights Watch and Amnesty International have documented the detention of children during protests, security sweeps, and criminalized responses to poverty and informal economies. Many are held as co‑accused with adults, used as leverage against relatives, or criminally charged with public order or gang‑related offenses without adequate legal safeguards. Prominent cases are the ones of Samantha Castillo, a 16-year-old teenager, and Gabriel Rodríguez, also 16 by the time of his detention when he was sentenced to 10 years in prison for having images against the regime in his phone.
For revenge, the Venezuelan authorities imprisoned the pregnant wife of a lieutenant accused of conspiracy who is now in exile, though family say she had no involvement. At the time Maykelis Borges was two months pregnant. Authorities did not provide custody records or allowed due process. She was forced to give birth in prison and is still held there with her three-month old baby.
Jonathan Rodríguez, a 30‑year‑old fisherman from Aragua diagnosed with autism since childhood, was arbitrarily arrested one day after the presidential election in July 2024. He was accused without evidence of being a “terrorist” and suffered severe neglect, torture, and malnutrition during over six months of imprisonment. He was released debilitated but later hospitalized with a severe pulmonary infection, and died on November 21, 2025.
Other victims of arbitrary detentions with disabilities include bystanders. Daniel Rojas, a deaf man who does not use sign language and is illiterate, was arrested in Caracas while leaving work during post‑election protests. Yevhenii Petrovich Trush, 20, is a neurodivergent Ukrainian student who was forcibly disappeared after being detained in 2024 while seeking asylum. Following over a year of disappearance, he was released on January 17, 2026.
These are just a few of the many ordinary lives stripped of dignity by a system that weaponizes the law to silence dissent. Every arbitrary arrest is both a human tragedy and a deliberate tool of repression to undermine democracy: hostage‑taking dressed as justice, designed to intimidate communities, crush opposition and bargain with the world. As families wait for the release of at least 700 detainees, what they need is full, unconditional freedom, not conditional releases that keep fear and control intact.
Say their names!
Kimberly Yánez 
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