The country where no one trusts anyone

For nearly three decades, Venezuela has not only witnessed the erosion of freedoms but has also suffered a more insidious and difficult-to-rebuild loss: trust. This is not merely a broken relationship between the citizen and the state; it is a deeper, quieter, and more dangerous fracture. Today, in Venezuela, there is a pervasive lack of full confidence not only in institutions but also in fellow citizens. This deterioration is not accidental but the result of a deliberate model that has weakened rules, hollowed out institutions, and transformed power into an end in itself.

Institutions have turned their backs on the citizens. They have not only failed to solve problems but have actively exacerbated them. Justice is no longer a refuge, public administration is no longer a service, and the state is no longer an arbiter. Instead, a system has emerged where power protects itself, and decisions are made not to order social life but to preserve control. Power in Venezuela fundamentally serves itself.

In this context, the Constitution has shifted from being a governing norm to mere rhetoric. It is constantly invoked, cited, and used as a political argument, yet it is frequently violated without consequence. Rarely has such a clear contradiction been witnessed: a country that mentions its constitution so often while simultaneously trampling it with such regularity. When the constitution and laws cease to be a limit and become mere decoration, what is lost is not just legality, but credibility.

And when credibility is lost, suspicion takes root. Thus, in today's Venezuela, every actor is questioned from the outset. The entrepreneur who decides to invest is quickly pointed out. The politician who attempts to negotiate is disqualified. He who proposes agreements is seen as weak or a traitor. Some undoubtedly will be. But the inability to distinguish between them reveals a larger problem: a society that has stopped evaluating and has begun to condemn automatically. This logic has been fueled from the top but has not remained there; it has also permeated society at large, imposing a way of thinking that reduces everything to extremes: with me or against me. In this scheme, dissent is not discussed; it is punished. Politics ceases to be a space for construction and becomes a field of permanent confrontation.

From our vantage point at El Nacional, we observe how this pervasive distrust paralyzes progress. The constant suspicion, amplified by social media, leaves no room for nuance or gradual processes. Any attempt at negotiation or pragmatism is met with severe scrutiny, demanding purity in an environment that desperately needs flexibility. While the narrative constantly looks backward, rehashing old conflicts and reinforcing divisions, the country remains trapped, unable to move forward because the very foundation of collective action – trust – has been systematically dismantled.