The soap opera of the Chavista influencers: a search for likes or an internal schism?

Much has been written about the capture of Nicolás Maduro, the U.S. intervention, and the rise of Delcy Rodríguez, but a veil of caution has silenced the internal indignation within Chavismo—especially among its more radical sectors—as they find themselves without a president and subjected to U.S. imperialism. This silence has projected an image of unity during the worst crisis the Bolivarian Revolution has ever faced, but tjat was until some of its loudest voices unleashed an online war in recent days, breaking the taboo surrounding the betrayal and the role of the Rodríguez siblings in this new era. While the opposition watches this soap opera with glee, the lingering question is whether this friendly fire is merely a fleeting social media spat or the expression of a serious schism within the Chavista ranks.

The loudest outburst came from Diego Omar Suárez, known as Michelo: an Argentinian influencer who arrived in Venezuela two years ago wearing a robot suit and LED lights and found a second calling in Chavismo. With 459,000 followers on Instagram alone and a history ranging from robotic dancing to revolutionary propaganda, Michelo recently accused Delcy Rodríguez of being a “female Judas” and blamed her and her brother Jorge for conspiring to hand Maduro over. “What would you do if you saw me with the head of the CIA in Venezuela receiving instructions after Maduro’s capture?” he asked, as if he had discovered something others prefer to ignore. His most viral video shows him fighting back tears: “My heart died on January 3rd. I loved Chávez. I swore to defend Nicolás Maduro, and they lied to me. I will never forgive them.”

His questions resonate with Chavistas who don’t understand—or don’t accept—the pragmatism of the United Socialist Party of Venezuela (PSUV) leadership after the January 3rd coup. The bewilderment is even greater because of its source: even Diosdado Cabello, the historical figurehead of the hardliners, now supports the steps being taken hand in hand with Washington. For the longtime loyalists, the image is hard to swallow: the International Monetary Fund returning, U.S. officials strolling around Caracas as if they owned the place, political prisoners being freed, reforms that diminish the power of Maduro and Cilia Flores’ inner circle, and the revolution’s historical enemy calling the shots from abroad.

The one who stepped in to quell the fire was Indira Urbaneja (107,000 Instagram followers), a communicator and analyst who in recent years has been gaining ground in media outlets close to the Chavista government. An ally of Diosdado Cabello, her response to Michelo sounded, at several points, like the official voice of Miraflores: “You can’t be angrier than we are, kid, about what has happened in Venezuela. You have no idea the sacrifice we’ve made here to swallow this bitter pill […] We’re swallowing this bitter pill to negotiate with the aggressor. Delcy, Jorge, and Diosdado could have easily gone into a gilded exile and handed everything over.”

Urbaneja also insinuated that Michelo was one of the influencers who had been receiving $5,000 a month for propaganda during the Maduro administration—she is not the only one who speaks of financial backing behind his campaign—and in passing brought a third heavyweight contender into the ring: “If they had given everything over, Mario Silva wouldn’t be speaking or making criticisms right now: he would be in jail.”

The mention of Mario Silva escalated the situation. Silva is a familiar figure to the Venezuelan public: for years he hosted “La Hojilla,” a midnight program on the state-run VTV that ruthlessly attacked the opposition—using sometimes very vulgar language—and staunchly defended Hugo Chávez, with whom Silva had a personal relationship. Very powerful at that time, he gradually lost influence under Maduro and since 2013 has migrated to social media and friendly radio stations. He was a feared figure, but since January 3rd he seems to have been completely sidelined: his program was taken off the air by Venezuela News and, as he himself reported, his security detail was withdrawn.

Silva responded to Urbaneja with the classicism of a revolutionary cadre: “In 2018, I wasn’t in Washington, like you, lobbying. I was here, defending the Bolivarian Revolution. On January 3rd, I went to my post to fulfill my duty. I’ll answer you as Commander Chávez used to say: ‘An eagle doesn’t hunt flies.’” With 241,000 followers on Instagram, Silva has been expressing his discontent for weeks and, in recent days, has denounced that the leadership “stole the power from the people.” In an open letter to Cabello, he even warned that if the leadership doesn’t correct course, “scenarios of internal conflict could arise; even a popular rebellion.”

Finally, a fourth contender joined the fray this Tuesday. Chavista deputy Iris Varela denied any betrayal of Maduro and lashed out at those who claim otherwise: “When I know that my country was bombed on January 3rd... Am I going to go and side with the enemy? Or do you still not know who the enemy is?”

The war has set social media ablaze, but is there a deep-seated discontent behind it all that threatens stability, or should we not take this soap opera too seriously? A privileged observer of Venezuelan politics sees it as more noise than a crisis. This “war of opinion-makers,” he says, channels the discontent of the most hardline segment of Chavismo regarding the narrative that the Rodríguez brothers “sold out” by not confronting the empire, but none of these individuals has enough support to generate a real rupture. “Michelo’s case, even with possible informal financing, smells more of opportunism than of a well-oiled machine,” he concludes.

That doesn’t mean the discontent is fabricated, and the controversy is damaging Chavismo’s image and fracturing its facade of unity. “Many activists from the original Chavista movement have distanced themselves from the government, even before Delcy,” says a communications activist who prefers to remain anonymous. “Some people are bothered by the technocracy, the new faces in the cabinet. Chávez’s legacy has been erased. There’s a tendency to forget even Maduro himself.”

After a few days of crossfire, the noise seems to be dying down again, and Michelo published an (unexpected) message of support for Delcy Rodríguez—“don’t think she handed over Maduro and Cilia along with Venezuela’s sovereignty.” The soap opera is apparently coming to an end, but this 2.0 war serves as a reminder that the new Chavismo, the one trying to survive after January 3rd, not only has to know its enemies. Above all, it cannot lose sight of its supposed friends.

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