The LAW Way

A feasible path forward and the role each of us must play, inside and outside the country

Why to write about “the day after”

For a long time, I avoided writing about Venezuela’s reconstruction. Not because I lacked hope, but because the level of destruction was so deep that any reflection felt incomplete, even naïve. Yet there comes a point when silence stops being prudent and becomes irresponsible.

All dictatorships eventually fall. That is not an opinion; it is a historical pattern. What is neither automatic nor simple is what comes next. I decided to write this piece not to announce change, but to think seriously about what kind of country will remain when that change arrives, and what role each of us must play in shaping what follows.

Venezuela was not only impoverished. It was institutionally dismantled. The relationship between law and justice was broken, impunity became normalized, and society was taught—systematically—that survival required bending or violating rules. That collective learning does not disappear by decree. If we fail to understand that, we risk repeating the same cycle.

Venezuela’s problem is not only economic: it is a crisis of the State

I want to be very clear about this, even if it is uncomfortable. If Venezuela were facing only an economic crisis, investment, macroeconomic stabilization, and time might be enough. But Venezuela faces something far more profound: a crisis of the State itself.

For years, the State stopped fulfilling its most basic function: organizing social coexistence. Justice ceased to protect and became a tool of persecution. Authority lost legitimacy. Law stopped being a shared reference point and turned into something arbitrary and selective.

When this happens, society adapts. People learn to “get by,” to distrust, to negotiate with illegality. I do not judge that adaptation; I understand it. But I also know that this learned behavior is one of the greatest obstacles to reconstruction. Changing a government is difficult. Unlearning a culture of survival is even harder.

Why reconstruction requires a plan, not just good intentions

One of the greatest temptations after authoritarian collapse is believing that good intentions are enough. They are not. Comparative evidence from post-authoritarian transitions shows that countries fail when they improvise.

Not everything can be done at once. Trust cannot be demanded without visible results. A justice system cannot be reformed in the midst of chaos. Reconciliation cannot occur while impunity remains intact.

This is why I insist on something that may sound technical but is deeply human: sequence matters. First stabilization, then legitimacy, and only afterward transformation. Not because the rest is unimportant, but because doing things out of order often leads to frustration, violence, or new forms of authoritarianism.

Stabilization is not reform: it is preventing further collapse

The days immediately following the fall of an authoritarian regime are the most fragile. Not because people do not want change, but because power vacuums attract armed actors, criminal networks, and opportunists.

At that stage, the goal is not to “fix” Venezuela. It is to prevent total collapse. Ensuring administrative continuity, protecting hospitals, water systems, and electricity, preventing retaliatory violence, and maintaining basic public order are not minor measures. They are preconditions for everything that follows.

There is one point I want to make unequivocally clear: justice without rules is not justice. It is revenge. And revenge destroys legitimacy. From day one, it must be clear that accountability will come—but through due process. Not out of leniency, but because without legality, there can be no legitimate authority.

Restoring the rule of law when no one believes in it

Once the immediate emergency is contained, the hardest work begins: rebuilding trust in the law. In Venezuela, for years, the law stopped producing predictable outcomes. And when the law is unpredictable, it ceases to function as law.

Restoring the rule of law does not mean everything works perfectly overnight. It means the system begins to operate coherently. Prosecutors investigate major corruption. Courts issue decisions and publish them. Public contracts become transparent. Procedures are followed, even when slow.

Citizens do not need perfection. They need clear signals that arbitrariness is being replaced by rules. I have seen, in different contexts, how small but consistent signals can shift deeply rooted perceptions.

Transitional justice: neither forgetting nor revenge

One of the most misunderstood concepts in Venezuela is transitional justice. It is not about “turning the page,” nor about indiscriminate punishment. It is about managing a legacy of abuse without destroying the future.

Transitional justice combines truth, reparations for victims, guarantees of non-repetition, and, where appropriate, prosecution of those most responsible. It does not aim to fill prisons, but to dismantle abusive power structures and formally acknowledge harm.

This must be said plainly: without a serious transitional justice process, wounds remain open. And countries with open wounds tend to relapse.

Transforming institutional culture to avoid repeating history

Even when institutions are formally rebuilt, a silent risk remains: capture. That is why true reconstruction must include civic education, public ethics, and professionalization of the civil service.

This is not moral rhetoric. It is about internalizing limits. Countries do not collapse because they lack laws, but because laws are ignored when they become inconvenient.

Rebuilding Venezuela requires redefining the relationship between citizens and authority. Legitimate authority is not imposed through fear; it is earned through legality, consistency, and service.

The role of those who live in Venezuela

For those living inside the country, reconstruction begins long before large-scale reforms. It begins in daily life. Respecting basic rules, rejecting bribes, demanding clear procedures, honoring contracts, and understanding that law protects even when it constrains.

These behaviors are not apolitical. They are deeply political. They sustain—or undermine—the rule of law every single day.

I firmly believe that without citizen participation, social oversight, and intergenerational civic education, any reconstruction effort will remain fragile.

The Venezuelan diaspora: a reserve we cannot afford to waste

More than eight million Venezuelans now live outside the country. This is not a demographic footnote. It is a structural reality—and a historic opportunity.

The diaspora does not carry a moral debt for leaving. It left because the State failed. Its contribution should not be measured in sacrifice, but in impact.

From abroad, Venezuelans can transfer institutional knowledge, build networks, facilitate cooperation, monitor processes, and help rebuild Venezuela’s international reputation. In a world defined by distrust, people become bridges of legitimacy.

Contributing does not require immediate return. Temporary returns, technical advisory roles, academic exchanges, and ethical investment are all valid forms of engagement.

Returning, when one returns, with humility

Some Venezuelans will choose to return permanently. Their role may be transformative, but it also carries ethical responsibility. Return must not reproduce authoritarianism, arrogance, or imposition.

Reconstruction does not need saviors. It needs public servants, ethical professionals, and conscious citizens.

Rebuilding values: what cannot be decreed

Infrastructure can be rebuilt with resources. Institutions with laws. But values are rebuilt through repeated example, day after day.

Each Venezuelan contributes when they follow a rule even when no one is watching, reject violence even in moments of frustration, demand accountability, and accept limits.

That is where real change happens—not in grand speeches.

Venezuela’s reconstruction will not be quick or perfect. There will be mistakes, tensions, and setbacks. But there is something unprecedented: millions of Venezuelans who are educated, connected, and deeply aware, both inside and outside the country.

Venezuela will not be rebuilt solely from power, nor solely from exile. It will be rebuilt when each of us understands that our conduct, our knowledge, and our commitment matter.

I write this because thinking seriously about the day after is, in itself, an act of resistance.

Key Takeaways: What I Want You to Remember

• Venezuela is not facing only an economic crisis, but a profound crisis of the State.
  Impunity and institutional collapse are at the core of the problem.
• The day after a dictatorship is far more complex than its fall.
  Without planning, political change can lead to chaos or new forms of authoritarianism.
• Reconstruction requires order and sequence.
  First stabilize, then restore the rule of law, and only then transform institutions and civic culture.
• Justice without rules is not justice.
  Due process is the foundation of a legitimate and sustainable transition.
• Rebuilding is not only the State’s responsibility.
  Everyday citizen behavior sustains—or undermines—the rule of law.
• The Venezuelan diaspora is a strategic asset.
  Contribution does not always require returning; impact matters more than location.
• Without rebuilding values, there is no lasting reconstruction.
  Laws and infrastructure fail without civic responsibility.
• Real change begins with each of us.
  Venezuela will not rebuild without citizens who understand their role in shaping the future.

A question that is not rhetorical

I want to end with a question that is neither comfortable nor rhetorical:

When the day after arrives, what are you willing to change in your own relationship with law, authority, and civic coexistence so that Venezuela does not fall again?

I am not asking about heroic gestures or grand sacrifices, but about everyday decisions and accepted limits.

If this piece made you think, I invite you to share your reflection in the comments. Not to argue, but to begin an honest conversation about the country we want—and the country we are willing to sustain through our actions.

Resources

Banco Mundial. World Development Report: Governance and the Law. https://www.worldbank.org/en/publication/wdr2017
Banco Mundial. Pathways for Peace: Inclusive Approaches to Preventing Violent Conflict. https://www.worldbank.org/en/topic/fragilityconflictviolence/publication/pathways-for-peace-inclusive-approaches-to-preventing-violent-conflict
Naciones Unidas. Guidance Note of the Secretary-General: United Nations Approach to Transitional Justice. https://www.ohchr.org/en/documents/tools-and-resources/guidance-note-secretary-general-transitional-justice-strategic-tool
OECD. States of Fragility. https://www.oecd.org/en/publications/2025/02/states-of-fragility-2025_c9080496.html
United Nations Development Programme (UNDP). Rule of Law and Access to Justice in Fragile and Conflict-Affected Settings. https://www.undp.org/publications/strengthening-rule-law-crisis-affected-and-fragile-situations
Teitel, R. Transitional Justice. Oxford University Press.
North, D., Wallis, J., & Weingast, B. Violence and Social Orders. Cambridge University Press.