Venezuelan outlets portray Trump’s stance as aggressive, unilateral and destabilizing: they regularly emphasize threats to close the Strait of Hormuz, to ignite a US–Israel war against Iran and to derail peaceful negotiations. Analytical and opinion pieces question Washington’s motives, note Iranian resistance, and stress economic consequences — rising oil prices and risks to global trade. Opinionated headlines and responses portray the US as an irresponsible or deceitful actor (even using labels like “asesino y mentiroso”), and the tone of the reports is more critical and alarmed than neutral. This piece was prepared based on publications on www.facebook.com and www.instagram.com (Venezuela).
Trump, Hormuz and the “besieged world”: how Venezuela reads the Middle East crisis
The Venezuelan media space does not treat US–Iran conflicts as a distant Middle Eastern episode but as part of a single story about sanctions, oil and the decline of American influence. Disparate publications — from posts by Al Mayadeen TV en español to emotional Instagram clips and headlines such as a Noticias Caracol story about a possible blockade of the Strait of Hormuz — form in Venezuela a coherent worldview in which Donald Trump appears as the symbol of an aggressive but already “losing” US policy.
One key element of this picture was a post by Al Mayadeen TV en español, widely circulated in Venezuelan pro-government circles. It quoted the head of the National Security and Foreign Policy Committee of the Iranian parliament, who, commenting on Washington’s threats in the area of the Gulf of Oman and the Indian Ocean, called Trump’s behavior “the natural behavior of a defeated president.” In the Iranian interpretation, Trump’s threats “to do one thing or another in the Gulf of Oman and the Indian Ocean” are not a show of strength but the convulsions of a departing administration that has lost real control over the situation. The full text of the speech is available via the Al Mayadeen Facebook link: https://www.facebook.com/almayadeenenespanol/posts/-el-presidente-del-comit%C3%A9-de-seguridad-nacional-y-pol%C3%ADtica-exterior-del-parlamen/1810425000189159/.
In Caracas that characterization — “presidente derrotado” — immediately gains a second meaning. For an audience close to Nicolás Maduro’s government, such formulations are ideal: they echo the official line that Trump embodies the failed “maximum pressure” strategy against Venezuela — from sanctions to attempts to impose Juan Guaidó as an “alternative president.” In Venezuelan discourse, an Iranian politician’s description of Trump as “defeated” automatically expands to signify the failure of Washington’s entire pressure architecture against both Iran and Caracas.
The broader political and informational context plays a special role here. Al Mayadeen en español, cited in the post (link), is popular among supporters of an “anti-imperialist” course in Latin America. When that channel publishes a quote calling Trump “a president who behaves like a defeated man,” for the Venezuelan audience it is not merely a foreign policy comment about the Strait of Hormuz or the Gulf of Oman. It is a convenient frame for reinterpreting US policy as a whole: the same hand that signs sanctions against PDVSA and Venezuelan officials, in this narrative, is seen as having lost real power and authority.
The oil and geopolitical dimensions give these words special weight. Mention of the Gulf of Oman and the Indian Ocean immediately links in the Venezuelan reader’s mind not only to the Strait of Hormuz and a potential cutoff of global oil flows, but also to Venezuela’s own vulnerability. Caracas belongs to the same “club of sanctioned producers” as Tehran; both countries are trying to survive and maneuver under US restrictions. When an Iranian parliamentarian describes Trump’s threats on maritime routes as gestures of a “defeated” man, in Venezuela this is taken as confirmation: the policy of blockades and oil-export strangulation can be survived and perhaps overturned.
This view is reinforced by a more emotional, almost apocalyptic discourse expressed, in particular, on social media. Indicative is an Instagram clip circulated in Venezuela where the user, against the backdrop of US escalation (with an obvious hint at Trump), launches into a diatribe against a “militarized” world. In the post under the video, available at https://www.instagram.com/reel/DXDQ2H1gkuV/, the author writes:
“Invierten tanto dinero en guerras y armas... Mientras el mundo muere de hambre, el planeta sufre todos los ataques y por esa razón el clima está cada vez más loco, definitivamente el humano será el causante de nuestra propia extinción... En vez de gastar tanto dinero en eso deberían velar por mejorar la calidad de vida de las personas y del planeta.... Noc quien le dio la autoridad a ese sr. De hacer lo que le de la gana...”
This tirade, at first glance universal, is read in the Venezuelan environment through local everyday experience. Criticism of massive military spending sounds especially loud in a country where years of economic crisis, hyperinflation and sanctions have materialized into empty store shelves, shortages of medicines and widespread poverty. The phrase “mientras el mundo muere de hambre” for a Venezuelan is not a rhetorical device; behind it are undernourishment, queues for basic goods, and the humanitarian consequences of migration.
The mention of “clima… cada vez más loco” also resonates with real disasters — from floods and landslides to destructive rains that regularly make national news. In local pro-government rhetoric this is tied to global capitalism, consumerism and the “ecological debt” of the North to the South. Adding military spending and wars to this cements the image of a “system” in which the US and its allies not only stoke conflicts but steer humanity toward climate suicide.
The phrase “definitivamente el humano será el causante de nuestra propia extinción” fits into a tone of apocalypse beloved in Venezuela — from parliamentary speeches to talk shows. The specific escalation around Iran and the Strait of Hormuz, whether real or hypothetical blockade measures, becomes here merely an occasion for a broader verdict: humanity, led by military and financial elites, is heading toward the abyss, and the US stands as the primary symbol of that course.
Particularly telling is the reference to the unnamed “ese sr.” — “I don’t know who gave that gentleman the authority to do whatever he wants.” In Venezuelan political language “ese señor” in the context of discussing wars and sanctions almost automatically points to the US president, in this case Trump. This expresses a deep refusal to recognize Washington’s moral and legal legitimacy as the “world policeman.” For a country that itself has been the object of sanctions, threats of intervention and the recognition of a parallel “president,” the question “who gave this man the right?” is not philosophical but directly political and legal.
Against this background, dry reports in international media about Trump’s actions in the Strait of Hormuz are read in Venezuela very differently than in Europe or, say, Colombia. An illustrative example is a post on the Noticias Caracol page where under the headline that “US President Donald Trump will block passage in the Strait of Hormuz,” the XML fragment actually continues with text about medical issues in Bogotá. The headline, however, reflects the point to which Venezuelan perception clings: Trump and Hormuz, the US and a strategic oil route. The link leads to the Facebook post: https://www.facebook.com/NoticiasCaracol/posts/mundo-el-presidente-de-estados-unidos-donald-trump-bloquear%C3%A1-el-paso-en-el-estre/1458950819606023/.
Even in the absence of details, the headline alone triggers a complex chain of associations in Venezuela. The Strait of Hormuz is the artery for Middle Eastern oil exports; Venezuela is a traditional oil exporter now paralyzed by sanctions and the collapse of its own infrastructure. A possible blockade would be a potential spike in oil prices that Caracas could theoretically benefit from, if it were not itself constrained. But at the same time it is another illustration of the “armed control” of strategic resources by the US. In the eyes of a pro-government Venezuelan audience, Trump’s initiative in Hormuz becomes a mirror of the same methods Washington applies against Venezuela itself: sanctions on PDVSA, tanker blockades, restrictions on transactions and payments.
Thus three seemingly unrelated sources — the Iranian statement, the emotional Instagram comment and the Colombian news headline — merge in Venezuelan perception into a single narrative. In that narrative Trump is not merely the person of a particular US president but a composite image of a “weakening hegemon” who, by resorting to threats in the Gulf of Oman, to blockades in the Strait of Hormuz and to sanctions against “disobedient” countries, demonstrates not strength but desperation. Iran, Venezuela and other states under pressure, by contrast, appear as resilient victims and at the same time partners in resistance.
Through the prism of this narrative international events are reinterpreted as confirmation of one’s own correctness. The Iranian parliamentarian calling US threats “the behavior of a defeated president” becomes a voice that the Venezuelan audience readily adopts. The Instagram critique of military spending and the question “who gave that gentleman the right?” turns into a moral comment on sanctions against Venezuela and the ongoing militarization of Washington’s foreign policy. And headlines about a blockade of the Strait of Hormuz complete the worldview in which the US controls oil and sea lanes not only in the Middle East but globally, undermining the sovereignty and economic development of countries in the Global South.
In this logic every new US escalation with Iran or any mention of the Strait of Hormuz is automatically read in Caracas as further proof of a system that simultaneously strangles Venezuela with sanctions, threatens Iran, foments wars, aggravates the climate crisis and ultimately leads humanity to “self-destruction.” That is why for the Venezuelan reader such news is not merely a chronicle of foreign policy but part of their own political and existential experience, where Trump is no longer just the figure of a distant president but a symbol of everything the country believes it is resisting.
