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US Colonial Strategy in Venezuela: From Rockefeller and IBEC to the Seizure of Sovereignty (2026)

Archival photograph showing the word “ROCKEFELLERS” with the German phrase “stehen hinter mir” (“stand behind me”), symbolizing the hidden political and economic power of the Rockefeller dynasty behind twentieth-century imperial and colonial strategies.

Block 1: From IBEC to the Seizure of Sovereignty (1940s–1950s → 2026)

The transformation of Simón Bolívar’s hacienda into a pig farm in the late 1940s–early 1950s was not an accidental economic episode. It was a strategic move within a long-term operation to establish control over Venezuela, the personal architect of which was Nelson Rockefeller — the clan’s “Latin American specialist and political star.” Even before the Second World War, while serving as director of Creole Petroleum, the key Venezuelan asset of Standard Oil, he created conditions under which more than half of Standard Oil’s profits flowed from Venezuela. After the war, he launched a new offensive against Venezuela through the International Basic Economy Corporation (IBEC), which he himself created. This “family” project, financed by Rockefeller capital, oil companies, and even the government of Venezuela, served as an instrument for diversifying influence. Under the so-called “agrarian policy,” what was meant were precisely IBEC projects, under which food enterprises were created not to supply the population, but to displace local producers and subsequently establish price control. Thus, a dairy company associated with Rockefeller projects mixed imported powdered milk with water from the Orinoco River and fresh milk, ruined small farms, and then raised the price to 32 cents per liter — approximately 50% higher than in the United States — making the product inaccessible to workers.Land associated with the name of the national liberator, Simón Bolívar, was included in the projects of that very International Basic Economy Corp. Tenants were evicted, historical development was destroyed, and the territory itself was transformed into an industrial agricultural enterprise serving the interests of external capital. Nelson Rockefeller, who freely moved between “private” and “government” operations, was the living embodiment of this strategy. This episode was an act of symbolic colonial violence of the twentieth century, a vivid demonstration that control over oil is interpreted as the right to dispose not only of land, but also of the history, memory, and national identity of Venezuela. The formula he implemented was simple and frank: the masters of oil flows declare themselves masters in the countries into which they invade, like Hitlerite occupiers. It was precisely his activity that created that very image of the “new tricks of oil barons,” which provoked hostility among a significant part of the Venezuelan people.

Today, in 2026, the same handwriting is observed: the invasion and de facto seizure of a sovereign state through the physical abduction and imprisonment of the acting president of Venezuela, Nicolás Maduro, carried out by U.S. special forces with his subsequent delivery for trial to American territory. This is not about extradition within the framework of an international treaty, but about the forcible removal of a political leader outside U.S. jurisdiction, without a mandate from international institutions, which means the direct application of extraterritorial power. This is no longer a metaphor or rhetoric, but a literal colonial practice carried out by the administration of Donald Trump, behind which stand the same stable interests of oil capital as behind the IBEC projects. Venezuela’s sovereignty in this construction is not disputed legally — it is simply annulled by the fact of force, and its leader is reduced to the status of a “drug lord” before the legal system of a state that for almost a century regarded the country of Venezuela as its own colony.

At the same time, in American political discourse the formula that “America is taking back what is its own” is increasingly heard. The key question — what exactly and from whom — is deliberately taken outside the brackets. The United States and its corporations never had sovereign property rights to Venezuelan subsoil. What was “taken away” by the people in 1976 was not American property, but the right of transnational corporations to extract profit without hindrance. It was not an abstract regime and not an external enemy that “took it away,” but the people of Venezuela, who through nationalization and state control over PDVSA declared that oil belongs to the country, not to foreign shareholders. Today, robbery by military force is taking place — American corporations are robbing and colonizing Venezuela.

This military intervention is not a deviation, but a закономерное continuation of the old Rockefeller tactics and strategy, under which the boundary between “private” and “government” operations is eliminated as a fiction. Private interests — the assets and legal claims of Chevron and ConocoPhillips, lawsuits against PDVSA — are directly transformed into army orders, intelligence operations, and decisions of U.S. federal justice. A change of administrations does not affect the essence of the matter: the political signboard and the vocabulary of justifications change, but the class of beneficiaries remains unchanged. Just as in the mid-twentieth century Rockefeller bulldozers on Bolívar’s land cleared space for the economic subjugation of the country, in 2026 America is clearing the path for the redistribution of Venezuela’s oil wealth, already openly showing, without hiding behind fine speeches about “democracy,” and saying that this is not about “returning to America,” but about transferring national wealth into the hands of a narrow group of transnational capital, the line of which was carried out here seven decades ago by Nelson Rockefeller.

Block 2: Who Benefits: The Balance of Forces and the Numbers of Control

Seizure is not an end in itself, but a key to the safe. The safe is 304 billion barrels of proven Venezuelan oil reserves (20% of the world’s total). And the problem is that access to them on Caracas’s terms was blocked. Sanctions from 2017–2024, according to estimates, have already reduced production from 2.4 million barrels per day to historic lows of 300–400 thousand, inflicting damage on the economy in over $400 billion in lost revenues. But a change of regime opens the path to:
1. Debt write-offs and redistribution of assets. China and Russia (creditors of Caracas in the amount of approximately $20–30 billion) may be offered symbolic compensation or their claims may be challenged in courts. Key PDVSA assets, such as the José petrochemical complex or the heavy deposits of the Orinoco Belt, valued at trillions of dollars in future profits, will pass under the control of international consortia dominated by American capital.
2. “Shock therapy” for the economy. A scenario tested in Iraq. Privatization of PDVSA, sharp cuts to social programs, devaluation. This will open the market to corporations that will be able to buy assets for next to nothing, as IBEC did with farms in the 1950s. The goal is not stabilization, but the creation of a new, absolutely loyal and dependent economic order.
3. A geopolitical triumph. The elimination of “Cuban” and “Russian” influence (military advisers, the company Rosneft) and the transformation of Venezuela into a springboard. This is a strategic blow to the entire BRICS+ alliance and the left movement in Latin America.

After the forceful removal of the central leadership, the United States moves to a phase of direct intervention, while short-term chaos is viewed not as a malfunction, but as a working instrument. In the first weeks, a power vacuum is formed: part of the armed structures previously loyal to the current authorities, including armed civilian formations and certain army units, do not recognize the new configuration and shift to asymmetric forms of resistance. This leads to the de facto fragmentation of the country into zones of control and deprives the state of the ability to exercise centralized governance. It is precisely such disorganization that allows the external actor to impose its own architecture of control under the pretext of preventing a “civil war along the Libyan scenario.”

Against this background, a transitional administrative scheme is introduced. A temporary political figure from the opposition camp is put forward, performing the function of an administrator rather than a bearer of power. Its task is not governing the country, but signing acts admitting foreign military contingents under the political cover of the Organization of American States and formalizing special commissions for privatization and “restructuring” of the economy. These structures provide the appearance of legitimacy, while real decisions on oil, finance, and foreign trade are made outside the country, according to the same scheme by which Venezuelan economic projects in the mid-twentieth century were managed from New York.

At the same time, economic dismantling is launched. Subsidies are canceled, the system of social distribution is destroyed, and sharp liberalization of prices and currency operations is carried out. In the conditions of an already undermined economy, this inevitably causes hyperinflation, rising unemployment, and mass impoverishment. The social reaction to these measures is pre-calculated. Protests are classified not as social, but as manifestations of “terrorism” and “remnants of the former regime,” which creates a formal basis for repression and further expansion of the force presence. Internal security structures are either suppressed or integrated into the new system under external control.

In parallel, direct control over key facilities is established. Foreign military forces take under guard airports, seaports, oil terminals, facilities of the Orinoco Belt, refineries, and energy infrastructure. Management of the oil sector is removed from the national framework through legal pressure and lawsuits against PDVSA, which allows the removal of national management and the transfer of assets under the control of transnational corporations, primarily Chevron and ConocoPhillips. The financial system is transferred under the supervision of external institutions, budget policy is subordinated to servicing external obligations, and the Central Bank loses its de facto sovereignty.

As a result, not a transitional period and not “democratization,” but a stable model of an unstable protectorate is formed. Formal attributes of statehood are preserved; however, real power is concentrated outside the country. The economy is reduced to a raw-material function, the population to an object of administration and humanitarian control, and the internal elite to the role of service personnel. Oil production and exports continue and may even increase, but the created added value and super-profits are systematically withdrawn to offshore and financial centers. The social achievements of the Chavista period in this construction are eliminated as an obstacle, and the fate of the country is deliberately brought closer not to the Chilean model, but to the trajectory of Haiti or Honduras. It is precisely this result — control over resources under conditions of chronic managed instability — that is the ultimate goal of the entire operation.

The forceful seizure of Maduro is not the finale, but the first step in the process of systemic annexation of sovereignty. Real power passes not to a temporary president, but to a hybrid structure in which private interests and the U.S. state apparatus merge into a single whole.

The U.S. District Court for the Southern District of New York (SDNY) and the U.S. Department of Justice. The formal accusation of Maduro for “narco-terrorism” serves as a legal trigger. This provides oil and financial barons with legal grounds for:
a) recognizing the government of Venezuela as a “criminal syndicate”;
b) launching RICO Act procedures against PDVSA and all its partners;
c) legalizing the confiscation of all assets associated with the state of Venezuela worldwide.

In the past, IBEC displaced local farmers through a price war. Today, SDNY and OFAC will displace any foreign state or company (Chinese, Russian) dealing with Caracas through the threat of secondary sanctions and criminal prosecution.

As for the financial side of the matter, the situation is as follows. Institution: the Office of Foreign Assets Control (OFAC). Key figure: Treasury Secretary Scott Bessent — an American banker who previously held senior positions in investment management, including at Soros Fund Management and his own Key Square Capital Management. Through OFAC, a sanctions-licensing regime will be created that will become the basic law for the Venezuelan economy. OFAC licenses will become the sole pass for working with Venezuelan oil. Only selected companies (Chevron, ExxonMobil) will receive them. The Rockefeller group of companies. All petrodollars will be required to pass through special escrow accounts in Morgan and Mellon banks (JPMorgan Chase, Bank of New York Mellon), from which funds will be distributed by priority: first — to pay dividends to corporate shareholders, then — to U.S. military purposes.

JPMorgan Chase will oversee the restructuring of Venezuela’s gigantic sovereign debt, determining which creditors (bondholders, ConocoPhillips on old claims) to pay and which (China, Russia) to challenge in court. Curator Rubio will act as adviser to the “transitional government”: he will head a team of “experts” for the “restoration” of the financial system, which in practice means its integration into the dollar zone under the harshest external control.

BlackRock and Vanguard Group will set a unified investment mandate. Their ESG criteria (Environmental, Social, Governance) and return requirements will de facto determine how corporations should behave in Venezuela: with whom to work, which social programs (if any) to launch, how to build security.

Chevron, ExxonMobil, ConocoPhillips, Halliburton. Their key figures Mike Wirth, CEO of Chevron, and Darren Woods, CEO of ExxonMobil, will receive exclusive OFAC licenses; these companies will become the real masters of Venezuela’s oil fields. PDVSA will either be dismantled or turned into a technical operator servicing their infrastructure. Contracts will be rewritten on the terms of service agreements with guaranteed profit, while environmental and social costs will fall on the popular masses and the nominal state.

The force apparatus of the operation is ensured by specific companies and specific managers. The central state operator is the U.S. Department of Defense; at the regional level — U.S. Southern Command. The key figure in SOUTHCOM is Laura Richardson (U.S. Army general, commander of SOUTHCOM), responsible for military planning of operations in Latin America, including scenarios of “counter-narcotics,” “counter-terrorist missions,” and protection of “critical infrastructure.” It is through this headquarters that deployment plans, lists of facilities under guard, and interaction with allied structures are formed.

The operational task of SOUTHCOM is not “waging war,” but seizing and holding infrastructure. The priority list includes: oil terminals, export ports, refineries, Orinoco Belt facilities, logistics hubs, and airports. These facilities are already being removed from national control and transferred under a regime of military guard. Formally — to “prevent sabotage,” in fact — to exclude any influence of national institutions and trade unions on export and management.

SOUTHCOM operates throughout Latin America:
Colombia — the main support ally: army training, special operations, intelligence, control of the Caribbean and Andean directions.
Honduras — the military hub of Central America: Soto Cano air base, helicopter operations, rapid deployment.
Panama — control of the isthmus: intelligence, transit, maritime security around the canal.
Peru — the Andes and Amazonia: special units, aviation, control of internal routes.
Brazil — intelligence interaction: Amazonia, monitoring of borders and resources.
Chile — naval partner: Pacific projection, exercises, logistics.
Argentina — military cooperation: South Atlantic, Antarctic direction.
Paraguay — land control: the Triple Frontier, logistics and intelligence.
El Salvador — air reconnaissance: Forward Operating Location for regional operations.
Curaçao (Netherlands) — air base: Caribbean intelligence and control of sea lanes.
Aruba (Netherlands) — air base: monitoring of the Caribbean.
Guatemala — training of security forces: borders and internal control.
Dominican Republic — maritime security: the Caribbean basin.
Ecuador — intelligence and ports: Pacific direction (limited, but active).

Private military presence is strengthened through PMCs acting as subcontractors of the Pentagon and the State Department. First of all, this concerns structures of the Constellis group (an umbrella company), which includes Academi (formerly Blackwater) and Triple Canopy. These companies are traditionally used to guard energy facilities, escort oil company personnel, and suppress local resistance without the formal involvement of regular troops. A separate block of functions belongs to Amentum (the successor of DynCorp), specializing in military logistics, technical maintenance of facilities, and work with infrastructure in “transitional regimes.”

It is precisely these structures that perform the work that IBEC bulldozers performed in the mid-twentieth century: clearing the space. Only now, instead of evicting tenants and demolishing farms, military engineers, security companies, and restricted zones are used. The result is the same: the object is physically removed from the country and prepared for transfer to a corporate operator.

Thus, the force block is not support for policy, but its foundation. Without the U.S. Department of Defense, SOUTHCOM, specific generals, contract PMCs, and the guarding of facilities, no court proceedings in New York, no OFAC licenses, and no “reforms” would be possible. This is the modern form of direct colonial seizure.

Behind-the-scenes masters of American colonialism are institutions such as Rockefeller Capital Management, the Council on Foreign Relations (CFR), and the Trilateral Commission. The key figure is David Rockefeller Jr., chairman of Rockefeller Capital Management. He is the direct heir of Nelson Rockefeller’s strategy. The task is to ensure continuity and ideological justification of the entire “undertaking.” Through foundations (Rockefeller Foundation, Rockefeller Brothers Fund), research, expert groups, and media promoting the narrative of the “necessity of external governance” and “humanitarian responsibility” will be financed. Through clubs such as the CFR, the political line between Wall Street, the State Department, and the Pentagon will be coordinated.

These are the facts.
Venezuela, amid the quiet and unresisting silence of the entire planet, has been transformed into a state-reservoir for a handful of American aces. Its sovereignty will be reduced to jurisdiction over citizens, but not over resources, finances, and security. The country will be governed by: Manhattan lawyers (through OFAC and courts). Wall Street bankers (through JPMorgan). Asset managers (through BlackRock). Oil managers (through Chevron/Exxon).

The puppet government in Caracas will perform one function: to affix a legal seal to decisions made in Washington, New York, and Houston. This is modern colonialism: the annexation not of territory, but of sovereign functions of the state by means of law, finance, and technology. The goal is the restoration of the Standard Oil order — absolute control over Venezuela’s resources.


Author of the Article
Alex ZarinTopical Reports, Eastern Post.

Release Date: January 6, 2026

Publisher: The Eastern Post, London-Paris, United Kingdom-France, 2026.