In the intricate tapestry of history, Latin America’s wealth—once envisioned as a cornerstone for prosperity—has paradoxically transformed into a historical burden. Eduardo Galeano, in his poignant work “The Open Veins of Latin America,” encapsulates this irony beautifully. The region, rich in natural resources, has consistently been subjugated, serving the interests of distant powers.
Latin America is the region of open veins. Everything, from the discovery until our times, has always been transmuted into European— or later United States— capital, and as such has accumulated in distant centers of power. Everything: the soil, its fruits and its mineral-rich depths, the people and their capacity to work and to consume, natural resources and human resources. Production methods and class structure have been successively determined from outside for each area by meshing it into the universal gearbox of capitalism…
For those who see history as a competition, Latin America’s backwardness and poverty are merely the result of its failure. We lost; others won. But the winners happen to have won thanks to our losing: the history of Latin America’s underdevelopment is, as someone has said, an integral part of the history of world capitalism’s development. Our defeat was always implicit in the victory of others; our wealth has always generated our poverty by nourishing the prosperity of others — the empires and their native overseers.
Eduardo Galeano, The Open Veins of Latin America
These reflections from Galeano’s groundbreaking 1971 book articulate a central thesis: Latin America’s natural wealth has become a double-edged sword. From Columbus’ arrival over five centuries ago, the region has served the imperial ambitions of distant capitals—Madrid, Lisbon, Paris, London, and ultimately Washington. In stark contrast, the original Thirteen American Colonies north of the Caribbean had the benefit of unremarkable resources and lesser tumult, allowing them to develop in ways Latin America could not.
While Galeano’s analysis is incisive, he later acknowledged the omission of other critical factors impacting Latin America’s plight, including internal challenges like weak institutions and government corruption. Nonetheless, he did not renounce the core arguments of his work, which quickly became an influential text for the Latin American left, often suppressed in various authoritarian regimes throughout the continent, including in Galeano’s homeland of Uruguay, where he faced imprisonment for his ideas.
In April 2009, Venezuelan President Hugo Chávez famously presented President Barack Obama with a copy of Galeano’s book during the Fifth Summit of the Americas. Though Obama had just begun his presidency amidst promises of hope and change, he may not have fully grasped the history and implications of Galeano’s insights on U.S.-Latin American relations.
Had he engaged with the text, he might have reconsidered his 2015 presidential declaration categorizing Venezuela as an “unusual and extraordinary threat” to American stability—an assertion paving the way for extensive sanctions that devastated the Venezuelan economy and its people.
As Vijay Prashad articulated in an interview with Katie Halper, the U.S. has a consistent track record of meddling in Latin American affairs, irrespective of the administration in power.
However, over the past 25 years, an unexpected transformation occurred: China emerged as a formidable global competitor, actively engaging with Latin America at a time when the U.S. diverted much of its focus to the Middle East. This shift led to China significantly investing in Latin American resources while the U.S. attempted, albeit unsuccessfully, to orchestrate coups in nations like Venezuela and Bolivia.
During the early 2000s, several Latin American governments adopted leftist policies, fostering collaborative efforts across the continent and forging partnerships with China. Unlike the U.S., Beijing generally avoids dictating the behavior or ideologies of its trading partners, leading to a significant boom in Chinese trade within the region.
As a result, from 2000 to 2024, Chinese trade with Latin America skyrocketed more than 40 times, soaring from $12 billion to $515 billion. In contrast, the U.S. is currently refocusing its attention on Latin American nations, seeking to exploit resources and establish markets. This shift hints at the potential for a renewed era of foreign intervention, a narrative reminiscent of Latin America’s turbulent history.
Dark Shades of the Past
On January 3, the U.S. executed its first direct military intervention in Latin America since the 1989 invasion of Panama, which resulted in the death of at least 3,000 individuals, predominantly civilians. Current reports indicate that approximately 100 lives were lost, including 32 Cuban soldiers defending President Nicolás Maduro during the January attack on Venezuela.
The operation has drawn disturbing comparisons to past U.S. interventions, including the 2009 ousting of President Manuel Zelaya in Honduras. Diplomatic assessments suggest that Maduro fell prey to a mix of complacency regarding Trump’s intentions and a series of miscalculations, with Ambassador Chas Freeman describing the event as illegal and an affront to established international norms.
Retired Colonel Lawrence Wilkerson labeled the attack on Venezuela as America’s largest foreign policy blunder to date, pointing out that it undermined the principles of international law while failing to dismantle the Maduro government.
Despite the intervention, the Chavista regime remains intact, and the notion of Washington exerting control over Venezuelan oil reserves appears premature. The U.S. lacks the necessary military presence to establish a full-scale invasion, risking a scenario akin to its disastrous Vietnam endeavors.
The looming questions remain: how long can the current precarious situation hold? And what if the power dynamics begin to shift? The resilience of the Chavista government, faced with relentless assaults from the U.S., raises concerns about its longevity under intensified pressure.
As Delcy Rodríguez assumes her role as Venezuela’s new acting president, she positions herself as a figure straddling defiance and pragmatism. Despite criticisms from prominent Chavistas who view her conciliatory approach as a betrayal, Rodríguez asserts that Venezuela will not revert to being a colonial state and calls for a foundation of peace and cooperation.
However, skeptics argue that her actions resemble those of other leaders who have buckled under external pressure, drawing parallels with former Ecuadorian president Lenin Moreno, who reversed many progressive reforms after assuming power.
A Loaded Gun to the Head
Amid ongoing turmoil, there is scant evidence of an actual betrayal by Rodríguez, as the rapidly evolving situation complicates reliable reporting. Current challenges remain daunting, punctuated by Trump’s threats against her leadership should she fail to meet U.S. demands.
Rodríguez, along with her brother Jorge, now faces immense challenges in navigating the geopolitical landscape while balancing domestic sentiments. The legacy of familial trauma, stemming from their father’s brutal fate at the hands of U.S.-backed forces, looms heavily over their political decisions.
Nevertheless, these twin crises expose a troubling trend in U.S. foreign policy: a renewed wave of militarized intervention marked by blatant disregard for sovereignty and human rights. As the Trump administration escalates its aggressive stance, it risks igniting further unrest in the region, spurring populist movements and provoking backlash against U.S. meddling.
Importantly, the implications of this trajectory extend beyond individual nations. Growing discontent among the citizenry in various Latin American countries may shift political allegiances within their respective governments and foster new coalitions resisting external pressures.
A Treasure Trove of Strategic Minerals
Beyond oil, Venezuela’s vast natural resources—including extensive gold and natural gas reserves—stand at the center of U.S. interests. Yet, external investment remains negligible due to regulatory hurdles and infrastructural deficits. Major commercial extraction projects are conspicuously absent, although there are signs that Wall Street is increasingly eyeing opportunities for investment as geopolitical dynamics shift.
While the current U.S. administration expresses keen interest in controlling Venezuela’s resources, the road to unlocking these assets is fraught with complexities that could delay exploitation for years. Trump’s rhetoric suggests a pretext for expanding U.S. influence rather than genuine concern for the Venezuelan populace.
As geopolitical rivalries intensify, the U.S. seeks to establish dominance not only over Venezuela but also throughout the region. Yet, the long-term viability of U.S. initiatives hinges on deep structural investments in a challenging landscape, coupled with the capacity to navigate the tension between competing interests.
Ultimately, as the U.S. pursues its agenda, it may find itself confronting persistent opposition from regional populations unwilling to tolerate neo-colonial interventions. In the face of such challenges, the legacy of Galeano’s work remains increasingly relevant, reminding us of the complex and often tragic history of imperialism in Latin America.
In summary, as Latin America stands at the crossroads of renewed foreign interventions, both historical insights and current developments underscore the importance of regional autonomy and cooperative governance. Galeano’s reflections evoke a call for vigilance, advocacy, and solidarity among Latin American nations navigating their paths amidst the longstanding entanglements of imperial interests.
