The plan is already in motion. A nation’s buried fortune, once locked behind sanctions and slogans, is now being quietly rerouted through Washington’s fingertips. Contracts are being drafted in rooms without windows, where lobbyists speak louder than diplomats. What’s framed as salvation could be the final surrender, as Venezuela’s future is written in someone else’s ledg…

What looks like a lifeline is really a test of who gets to define “recovery.” For Washington, control over Venezuela’s oil is leverage: a tool to shape elections, dictate reforms, and reward allies. For corporations, it is a once-in-a-generation opening to secure long-term production at fire-sale terms, protected by U.S. power and framed as benevolence.

For Venezuelans, the promise is painfully double-edged. New jobs, repaired power grids, reopened schools, and medicine on shelves all depend on money that now moves through foreign hands. Each benchmark met could unlock funds, yet deepen dependency. If oversight stays offshore and decisions are made in boardrooms, the country may escape one crisis only to enter another: prosperity visible on the horizon, but owned, steered, and priced somewhere far beyond its borders.