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Inflation, currency woes worsen Venezuela's complex crisis as Maduro declares ‘economic emergency'

Inflation, currency woes worsen Venezuela's complex crisis as Maduro declares ‘economic emergency'

The Hill15-04-2025
MARACAIBO, Venezuela (AP) — Erick Ojeda has no money. He returned to land almost empty-handed from an overnight trip fishing for shrimp. His sister and her newborn are waiting for him to pick them up from a hospital. He has had no luck finding a ride there, so he is still helping fishermen get boats out of the water and weigh what little they caught.
The fishermen are all struggling, like most everyone in Venezuela, whose protracted crisis continues to evolve, entering a critical phase in recent weeks by further gutting people's purchasing power and laying the groundwork for a recession. This latest chapter in the 12-year crisis even prompted President Nicolás Maduro to declare an 'economic emergency' last week.
Tired, hungry and worried, the fishermen don't complain and keep to their tasks, or nap, under a hut with a view of an oil tanker on Lake Maracaibo. They know they are lucky to have a source of income, unreliable as it is, in 2025.
'I have to keep toiling away even if work is bad,' Ojeda, 24, said. ' We keep going trusting God. Let's see if God works miracles to fix all of Venezuela.'
The country's economy is unraveling yet again as key oil revenue dries up due to renewed economic sanctions punishing Maduro for electoral fraud and as his government finds itself with little wiggle room to respond despite some post-pandemic stability.
Economic renaissance
Venezuelans emerged from the pandemic to fully stocked grocery stores and the U.S. dollar as the dominant currency for everyday transactions. They left behind years of bartering, lining up for hours outside supermarkets or even fighting on the streets for flour, rice, bread or other food items. They also stopped carrying bricks of worthless bolivar bills to pay for necessities.
Those changes were the result of government decisions that eased price controls on basic goods and allowed consumers and businesses to use greenbacks without restrictions. They also occurred because the government used the Venezuelan Central Bank to inject millions of dollars into the foreign currency exchange market every week and prop up the bolivar.
Those government measures helped end a yearslong cycle of hyperinflation, which had reached 130,000% in 2018. Gross domestic product grew 8% in 2022, according to the International Monetary Fund, after the economy shrank about 80% between 2014 and 2020.
Maduro and his government began touting an economic renaissance of sorts. In the capital, Caracas, imported goods stores, restaurants, department stores and other businesses began to pop-up seemingly overnight. The use of ride-hailing and food-delivery apps proliferated. Some families in poor neighborhoods ventured into business ownership operating hot dog carts and other food stands.
But the growth mostly concentrated in Caracas, and communities across the country, including Maracaibo, which prides itself in being the heart of the oil industry, did not see major gains.
'If you pay more attention to those main avenues… you'll see that most of the businesses are closed,' Luis Medina, 21, said pointing to an avenue in downtown Maracaibo. 'There's a Subway that's closed, for example, and next to it is a Movistar (cellphone store), which is also closed. Next to it is an international restaurant, El Gaucho, originally from Argentina, which is closed, too.'
US dollar as safe haven
Like people in other Latin American countries – and long before their nation came undone in 2013 – Venezuelans have used the U.S. dollar as a safe haven asset and see the exchange rate as a measure of the economy's health.
Maduro's government began using cash reserves in 2021 to artificially lower the exchange rate, making people at one point pay 3.50 bolivars for $1. That led to roughly 67% of retail transactions being made in foreign currency.
The rate grew slowly, and by 2023, Maduro's efforts to inject dollars into the economy were aided by energy giant Chevron, which started regularly selling millions to banks to get bolivars to pay bills after the U.S. government let it to restart operations in Venezuela. The infusion of dollars allowed the government to maintain the rate around 35 bolivars to $1 through mid-2024, when the warnings of economists materialized.
'So many of us said that … sooner or later, it was going to be unsustainable,' economics professor Leonardo Vera said. 'It was already evident in July that there were shortages of foreign currency in the official market in the face of growing demand, and those who couldn't get foreign currency began to move to the black market, a very small market where when a surge in demand arrives… the price goes up.'
This month, the official rate reached 70 bolivars to $1, but the black market hit 100 bolivars to $1 last month.
Vera explained that factors influencing the price include Maduro's reelection claim, the results of the U.S. election and the decision of the Trump administration to revoke Chevron's permit to pump and export Venezuelan oil.
The Biden administration granted Chevron's permit in late 2022 after Maduro agreed to work with Venezuela's political opposition toward a democratic election. But the election, which took place in July 2024, was neither fair nor free, and Maduro was sworn in in January for a third six-year term despite credible evidence that his opponent got more votes.
'Economic emergency'
Before the official and black market rates grew apart considerably, formal and informal businesses applied the government's rate for transactions. These days, however, informal businesses, such as the food markets where the majority of Venezuelans buy groceries, favor the black market's rate, making some goods unaffordable.
Prices have also increased at formal businesses, including grocery and hardware stores, because companies are setting them based on the expected higher cost to replenish their inventories.
Economist Pedro Palma said Venezuela's inflation rate could be between 180% and 200%. He warned that people will cut spending because salaries will not keep up with inflation and some could even lose their jobs.
'We have a truly dramatic outlook: on the one hand, skyrocketing inflation; on the other, the prospect of a very significant recession,' Palma said.
Maduro last week sent a decree to the ruling-party controlled National Assembly seeking powers to enact emergency measures to 'defend the national economy,' including suspending tax collections and establishing 'mechanisms and percentages for mandatory purchases of national production to promote import substitution.'
He attributed the decision mostly to the impact of the U.S. tariffs on the global economy, but Venezuela's latest economic troubles predated Trump's announcement. Weeks earlier, he also announced the shortening of state employees' workweek, effectively giving them ample time to pick up second jobs to complement their approximately $1.65 monthly minimum wage and $100 monthly stipends.
But companies generally are not hiring, and some businesses are now paying employees in bolivars instead of dollars, which has increased the demand for greenbacks in the black market as exchange houses limit the sums available to the public.
The latest economic developments were the greatest fears of many Venezuelans ahead of last year's presidential election. So much so that a nationwide poll conducted before the election showed that roughly a fourth of people were thinking about migrating, primarily for economic reasons.
Nowadays, though, people largely appear to have abandoned that idea partly because of Trump's crackdown on illegal immigration.
Taxi driver Jonatan Urdaneta has transported migrants from the bus station in Maracaibo to the nearest border crossing with Colombia for two years. For about 18 months, he made two roundtrips a day and so did dozens of other drivers. He can now go a day without a single trip.
'Honestly, it's looking very bleak,' Urdaneta, 27, said of his income prospects, standing next to his 1984 Ford sedan. 'Let's hope this improves when God allows.'
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SANTIAGO, Chile (AP) — Sebastián Solorza is already a familiar face to many Chileans, having starred in a popular Netflix series and won national acting awards. Now, the 43-year-old actor with Down syndrome wants to enter the race for president in Chile's national election this year. Solorza is racing against the clock to gather 35,000 signatures by Aug. 18, a requirement for him to run as an independent candidate. He positions himself as a 'point of balance' between the far right and the far left — a fierce ideological battle that dominates Chile's political scene. 'I listen with my heart,' Solorza told The Associated Press, adding that his condition allows him to offer a softer communication style. Should he enter the electoral race, his platform will focus on greater inclusion, improved healthcare and education, and enhanced security — a main concern of citizens who have been grappling with an unprecedented crisis of violence in recent years. Chile will choose its new president on Nov. 16, with the campaign so far defined by the mutual attacks between the two main contestants: The far-right José Antonio Kast, who lost to current leftist president Gabriel Boric in 2021, and Jeannette Jara, the ruling coalition's communist nominee. With three months remaining until the election, polls show Kast and Jara vying for the top two spots. This scenario suggests they would face each other in a second-round runoff on Dec. 14. Solorza argues that his candidacy offers a middle ground between political extremes, while working toward a 'more inclusive country.' 'I've spent my entire life breaking down prejudices, as an actor, as a worker and as a citizen,' he said last month when announcing his plans to run as an independent candidate. 'We all deserve the same opportunities.' The actor hopes his candidacy will give greater visibility to people with Down syndrome and other disabilities. While it's unlikely he will secure the necessary support to run for president — he has collected a little over 600 of the 35,000 signatures required — he sees his political foray as a success. Demystifying myths and prejudices Solorza keeps a tight schedule, balancing an acting career with a day job at a construction company. In his limited free time, he spends time visiting Congress, talking with members of the Parliament and meeting with constituents to promote his campaign. On the streets of Huechuraba, a quiet and green neighborhood in the northern part of Chile's capital, Solorza is often greeted by supporters, fans, and workers from restaurants and cafés where he is a regular. Always smiling, he walks slowly, making time for anyone who wants a photo or a brief chat. In Valparaíso — a coastal town about 100 kilometers (62 miles) from Santiago, where the Congress is based — Chileans show up to the Parliament to express their support. 'Good luck with the signatures,' one supporter said last week. 'Let it be the people who ultimately decide our future.' Solorza's political aspirations open the door to 'raise the voices of people with Down syndrome' and help to 'demystify myths and prejudices still present in society,' said Carolina Gallardo, director of the Chilean nonprofit Down Up Foundation, which offers support and community for families raising children with Down syndrome. Fueled by the arts The attempt at a political debut is just the latest in a long line of barriers Solorza has overcome. He was born and raised in the 1980s, a time with far less knowledge about Down syndrome than today. His mother, Jenny Solorza, recalls his early years as 'very dark,' because doctors never provided a clear diagnosis for their son, leading them to search for information on their own. 'We wanted to do our best and always encouraged him with music,' she said. As a result, 'Sebastián has a very broad musical culture, and that's what he grew up with.' Solorza attended special schools where he developed his passion for the arts, fueled by music, rather than focusing on traditional academics. At 18, he received a scholarship to join a theater school and began performing regularly on stage and appearing in popular TV talk shows. He later rose to national fame for his leading role as Tomy in the Chilean thriller 'Chromosome 21.' The series, which follows a detective trying to determine if a young man found at a murder scene is a witness or a suspect, ranked second on Netflix in Chile just two days after its release in 2022. The part earned Solorza the Best New Actor award at the 2023 Caleuche Awards, one of the most important ceremonies in the Chilean film industry. Despite social media criticism that he lacks preparedness and political experience to run for office, he insists he will not be deterred. 'I know my candidacy would be uncomfortable for many,' he said. 'But I am here to support minorities.' ____ Follow AP's coverage of Latin America and the Caribbean at

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