Latin America continues to closely monitor how decisions by American politicians and the United States’ diplomatic moves affect the region. In some reports, the focus is on Washington’s efforts to strengthen ties with local allies and involve countries more actively in a shared agenda. In others, attention is drawn to the role of the United States as one of the key players in global conflicts, including the topic of Iran. At the same time, the news carries a broader political meaning: for many, the United States becomes a kind of reference point used to gauge possible changes in security, government policies, and the nature of regional cooperation. This material was prepared based on publications from www.facebook.com (Venezuela), www.youtube.com (Venezuela), and www.bbc.com (Venezuela).
Trump, the Strait of Hormuz, and U.S. Influence in Latin America
In several news items viewed through a Venezuelan lens, one and the same theme keeps coming up again and again: how the political and economic power of the United States affects other countries—their resources and their internal decisions. Whether it is Donald Trump’s statement about control of the strategic Strait of Hormuz, the dispute involving Panama’s company Biomateriales S.A. and the Ministry of Health, or the story of Colombian politician Abelar do de la Espriellia, in all cases the emphasis falls on distrust of official accounts, suspicions of hidden interests, and how the issue of sovereignty becomes central for a Latin American audience.
Regarding Hormuz, in a video published on YouTube, Donald Trump said the United States has “full control” over the strait. For Venezuela, the phrase does not sound like a neutral foreign-policy statement; it is seen as another confirmation that Washington seeks to determine the fate of the world’s key energy routes. In a country where the oil sector and the question of sanctions are directly tied to everyday politics, such words are perceived as part of a broader pattern of pressure and demonstrations of power. Hormuz, through which a significant share of the world’s oil and gas exports pass, in this context becomes a symbol: if the United States can claim control over it, then other states in the region have reason to fear outside interference in their own energy interests.
A somewhat different—but essentially related—story is linked to a report about an investigation involving Panama’s Ministry of Health and the company Biomateriales S.A. According to journalist Rolando Rodríguez, his investigation “contradice la versión del Minsa de que no hubo favorecimiento a Biomateriales S.A.” He claims the company allegedly offered medicines directly to the Ministry of Health “pese a que no los tenía disponibles en Panamá,” and also points to possible ties between Minister Fernando Boyd and this firm, as well as to the fact that it remains unclear what happened to the shares he held before taking office. The source of this material is listed as prensacom.
For a Venezuelan reader, such accusations look especially familiar. The story of government procurement, business, officials, and opaque connections immediately evokes associations with shortages, the allocation of resources, and a lack of trust in official explanations. Even if the plot is about Panama, it is understood as part of a wider Latin American scenario in which society is forced to keep asking: who really benefits from government decisions, and whether there is a private interest behind them.
The third item, published in BBC Mundo, focuses on Abelar do de la Espriellia and his political ties to the United States. In the Venezuelan interpretation, this story is read not only as the biography of a candidate, but also as a symptom of the dependence of part of the region’s political establishment on Washington. The report notes that he builds legitimacy through meetings with María Elvira Salazar, support for Marco Rubio, public endorsement of Donald Trump, donations to Republicans, and the idea of Plan Colombia 2.0, which is supposed to be funded by the United States and Israel.
What is especially sensitive for Venezuela is his borrowing of Trump’s rhetoric: talk of “Marxists,” “illegal migration,” and a crime corridor that he effectively includes both Colombia and Venezuela in. In a region where the theme of foreign interference has long become part of political language, such statements are seen as a continuation of an old scheme in which security, drug trafficking, and migration are used to justify strengthening U.S. influence. Additional sharpness is added by the mention of Alex Saab, a figure closely linked to the case against the Maduro government: for Caracas, it is another sign of just how intertwined politics, criminal cases, sanctions, and geopolitical pressure are.
The material also includes Pетрo’s remark that U.S. citizenship requires “loyalty to the United States above Colombia.” For a Venezuelan audience, this is not just a legal dispute, but a question of who will truly set the country’s course and whose interests will be prioritized. Equally important is the role of the Colombian diaspora in the United States: the author emphasizes that it was overseas voting that helped de la Espriellia achieve a high result. In Venezuela, this resonates especially strongly because the country itself has experienced large-scale emigration, meaning that the diaspora’s vote there is also seen as a factor capable of amplifying external priorities in domestic politics.
If you look at all three stories together, a single picture emerges: control over resources, conflicts of interest, political ties to the United States, and the question of how much Latin American states are able to preserve their independence in the face of external pressure. That is why in Venezuela such news is read not as separate episodes, but as part of a single big conversation about sovereignty, trust in authority, and the cost of political dependence.
