Removing Nicolas Maduro from Venezuela

For years, his mustachioed face stared out from propaganda billboards that glorified the supposedly revolutionary rule of a dictator who presented himself as the "protector of the people."

The propaganda-engineered adoration was so pronounced that factories produced plastic action figures that celebrated Nicolas Maduro as an "indestructible" and "strong-armed" caped avenger, known by the nickname "Super Beard."

In a coastal city near Caracas, authorities have even marked garbage cans, garbage trucks and overpasses with ominous black silhouettes of the autocrat's mustache.

Five months after US special forces toppled Maduro, his carefully constructed cult of personality is crumbling, as the former president, now ousted from power, is being erased from Venezuelan history by erstwhile allies who seem desperate to move on.

Huge portraits of Maduro and his wife Cilia Flores, who is also in prison, still adorn the capital's main thoroughfares, some with the hashtag #WeWantThemBackNow. A clock has also been set up in the historic center to count down the days since the couple's kidnapping.

In the streets around Miraflores, the presidential palace from which the autocrat once ruled, artists sympathetic to the regime have painted messages of support on kiosks. "Que viva Maduro, carajo!" ("Long live Maduro, damn it!") reads one. Another says: "We love Maduro."

However, such affection seems to be waning. Across the country, billboards and images of Venezuela's ousted leader are being quietly removed or erased, or simply left to decay and slowly engulfed by vegetation.

In a large housing estate in downtown Caracas, an area long considered a stronghold of the regime, murals dedicated to the politician who will be remembered primarily for leading Venezuela into dictatorship and one of the worst peacetime economic collapses in history have been painted white.

"I was stunned, I thought, 'What?!'" said one local woman, describing the moment she realized that an order had been issued to paint over Maduro murals outside her local bank and pharmacy. "They painted them all over."

On the highway to Guatire, a city east of Caracas, Maduro's name on a billboard from the 2024 election campaign, which he largely believes was stolen, has faded almost to invisibility.

Further east, in a town called Caucagua, it appears that some regime opponent has smeared cement over a portrait of Maduro in a public playground, obscuring parts of the dictator's face.

A stencil artist painted Maduro's image on a nearby wall, alongside a quote from him at a recent court hearing in New York. "I am a decent man and I am still the president of my country," it read, unconvincingly.

The disappearance of pro-Maduro propaganda is also reflected in the public statements of those who took power after his kidnapping on January 3rd of this year.

An analysis by the Venezuelan website TalKual showed that interim leader Delcy Rodriguez, Maduro's former vice president and ally, mentioned his name 86 times in the immediate aftermath of the US invasion. By March, the number of monthly mentions had dropped to just seven - a drop of more than 90 percent. "What remains of a leader when his name is no longer spoken?" TalKual wondered.

Phil Ganson, a political commentator from Caracas, believes that these figures accurately reflect the extent of Maduro's fall.

"It's actually quite sad when you present yourself as a great revolutionary leader and the US kidnaps you and a few months later no one can even remember your name," Ganson said, adding sarcastically: "I mean, Maduro? Yeah, that sounds familiar."

Diplomats say Venezuelan officials now rarely mention their former boss.

Ganson believes Maduro's disappearance from official discourse shows how much he has alienated not only opponents of the regime, but also his own movement, during a disastrous period in power, when the economy shrank by 70 percent and millions of people fled abroad. "Maduro, from 2013 onwards, simply led them into a complete dead end... That's why I have the impression that most people on the Chavista side wanted Maduro to see his back," he said.

Public anger over the economic collapse was compounded by irritation with the dictator's frivolous appearances on camera, especially his constant dancing and singing on state television. "Maduro was completely out of touch with reality. All that singing and dancing by Maduro... really irritated a lot of people. I think even on the Chavista side, people were thinking... 'Get rid of this guy!'" Ganson said.

Apparently, Donald Trump was also angered by Maduro's dance moves.

Traces of support for Maduro can still be found on the streets of Venezuela. At a recent rally in support of the regime outside the botanical gardens in Caracas, one protester held up a Superman-style action figure of Maduro and a model of Flores wearing glasses, resembling Wonder Woman, although she refused to give her name or explain her affection for the former presidential couple.

Another marcher, Wendel Gouveja, wore a red T-shirt with a pop-art depiction of Maduro's face. "Nobody paid me or forced me to come here," Gouveja said, accusing "a clumsy idiot" Trump of committing a blatant injustice by kidnapping his president.

But apart from those figurines and Gouveia's T-shirt, there was almost no sign of Maduro's name or likeness. Most of the several thousand demonstrators were dressed in white, not red, the color traditionally associated with the Chavista movement.

On the highway connecting Caracas to the international airport, authorities painted a large mural in bright yellow and blue along the road, demanding the release of the former president: "Free Maduro and Siliya."

In the weeks after the mural was created, someone sabotaged it by pouring black paint over it.

Translation: NB