As we reported this week and since, Venezuelan dictator Nicolas Maduro and his wife, Cilia Flores, were captured at their home in Caracas by U.S. Special Forces and brought back to America to stand trial for drug trafficking and a host of other charges.
It was one hell of a perp walk. Heavily armed police escorted them to the courthouse in an armored truck—a far cry from the palaces and propaganda stages Maduro once commanded. When his case was called, Nicolás Maduro predictably threw a tantrum, whining that he had been “kidnapped.” Maduro and his wife both entered not-guilty pleas.
They even had the obligatory leftist fan club protesting outside the courthouse—because of course they did. These people don’t actually care about oppressed populations. If they did, they’d show an ounce of concern for the people of Venezuela, who’ve spent years suffering under the illegitimate Maduro regime. Instead, they’re out there shilling for a dictator.
One protester—born and raised in Brooklyn, naturally—actually claimed she couldn’t understand why the U.S. calls Nicolás Maduro a dictator, insisting he was “rightfully elected twice by the people of Venezuela in a very transparent election.” That’s pure fantasy. He wasn’t rightfully elected, and those elections were anything but transparent.
But here’s the part that really mattered: real Venezuelans showed up. People who actually lived under Maduro. People who know the shortages, the repression, the corruption, and the fear firsthand. And they gave the protesters a brutal, much-needed lesson in reality—telling them, in no uncertain terms, to get lost:
The emotion in that scene is unmistakable—you can practically feel it coming through the screen.
In other footage circulating online, Venezuelans who actually lived under the Maduro regime confront the protesters head-on, calling them out for defending a dictator they clearly don’t understand. One doesn’t bother with polite rebuttal at all and delivers a well-earned middle finger:
A group of Venezuelans showed up to applaud the toppling of the oppressive Maduro regime and hurled insults at the clueless protesters as cops put the opposing sides in separate pens.
“You’re an a–hole! You don’t even know where Venezuela is!” Cuban-born Dario Blanzo shouted at a protester.
Maria Su, who immigrated to NYC from Caracas in 2017, raged, “They are not Venezuelans.
“They are paid protesters. They don’t speak Spanish!”
Will Contreres, 52, who immigrated from Caracas in 1996, screamed at the crowd, “You’re not for my country!
“Today we are here happy because he’s going to face justice,” Venezuelan-American Rafael Escalante said of the deposed dictator.
They said they were there to make sure the story was told by Venezuelans—not by radical activists who have no idea what they’re talking about. There’s only so much slogan-chanting you can do when you’re confronted by people who buried family members, fled their country, and watched it be destroyed under Nicolás Maduro’s regime.
And here’s the part the protesters can’t stand: Venezuelans are ecstatic. For the first time in years, there’s a genuine chance for change—real hope instead of propaganda.