Venezuela: The Absence of the “Present State”
A state that promised to do everything failed at its most essential task.
June 30, 2026
News Article
A state that promised to do everything failed at its most essential task.
There are images that express reality far better than any speech. After the June 24 earthquake in Venezuela, we saw neighbors removing rubble with their bare hands, doctors working with minimal resources, families desperately searching for their loved ones, and volunteers doing what the state could not do. Within hours, a reality Venezuelans had known for years was laid bare: the so-called “present state” failed when it was needed most.
That made me think that Venezuela has, in fact, suffered two earthquakes. The most recent was caused by nature. The older one began in 1999, when Chavismo came to power, promising to build a strong, protective state capable of solving all of society’s problems.
The seismic event lasted only a few seconds, while the ideological shock has lasted for more than a quarter of a century. While one brought down buildings, the other has slowly weakened the economy, institutions, public trust, and, above all, freedom.
For years, the regime insisted that the state had to be everywhere. It expropriated businesses, nationalized industries, controlled prices, regulated markets, managed production, distributed food, built housing, and concentrated ever greater power in the hands of the government.
But while the state was growing, the country was shrinking.
Thousands of private businesses disappeared, productive capacity was destroyed, investment was driven away, and infrastructure deteriorated severely. Hospitals began operating with enormous shortages, and public services ceased to function properly. Corruption, meanwhile, ended up consuming resources that should have been used to prepare the country for situations like the one it is facing today.
Last Wednesday’s earthquake not only shook the earth’s tectonic plates; it also exposed everything Chavismo had spent years trying to hide, though without much success. The best proof of this is the more than eight million Venezuelans who have been forced to leave their country in search of freedom and better opportunities.
When, after the disaster, it was time to act, Venezuela lacked sufficient rescue teams, heavy machinery, properly equipped hospitals, medical supplies, and logistical capacity to handle a tragedy of such magnitude. Once again, the country had to rely on international assistance to do what a state should have been able to guarantee on its own.
That is the real failure of the Venezuelan socialist model. It does not matter how many companies it controls or how many regulations it imposes. A state demonstrates its strength when it is capable of protecting the lives of its citizens in their most difficult moments. And when that moment arrived, it simply was not up to the task.
There is another coincidence that is impossible to ignore. In December 1999, only a few months after Hugo Chávez came to power, Venezuela suffered the Vargas tragedy, one of the worst natural disasters in its history. But unlike that disaster, this time Venezuela is much poorer, with deteriorating hospitals, abandoned infrastructure, destroyed businesses, and millions of young people who have emigrated. Today, the state is infinitely larger on paper, yet much weaker in reality. That is, perhaps, the greatest contradiction of Venezuelan socialism.
It promised a state capable of solving everything, but it ended up creating a state incapable of fulfilling even its most basic functions.
There is another aspect that cannot be overlooked. For years, Chavismo showcased the Gran Misión Vivienda Venezuela housing program as one of its greatest political achievements. After the earthquake, images and reports began to circulate of housing built under that program suffering severe damage and even collapsing. Technical investigations will determine responsibility in each case, but if it is confirmed that many of those buildings failed because of poor construction quality, we will be facing a painfully revealing metaphor for what happened in Venezuela: when the state replaces competition, eliminates independent oversight, and turns public works into political propaganda, quality ceases to be a priority.
And in the end, as so often happens, cheap ends up being very expensive. In this case, far too expensive, because it is not about money, but about lives.
It is often said that markets fail and that is why more government is needed. But much less is said about the costs of government failure.
When a private builder performs poorly, he is held accountable under the law, loses customers, or goes out of business. When it is the state that performs poorly, rarely is anyone held accountable. The bill is always paid by the people.
That is why I believe the June 24 earthquake leaves a lesson that goes far beyond Venezuela. Natural disasters cannot be prevented, but human tragedies can be made worse—or less severe—depending on the quality of a country’s institutions.
The difference between a catastrophe and a prolonged tragedy often lies not in the magnitude of the earthquake, but in a society’s ability to respond. And that ability does not appear overnight. It is built over many years through strong institutions, respect for private property, investment, infrastructure, economic growth, and a state focused on fulfilling its essential functions rather than controlling every aspect of people’s lives.
Venezuela’s greatest tragedy was not only the June 24 earthquake. It was discovering that, after twenty-seven years of building a state that wanted to do everything, that very same state was no longer capable of doing what mattered most: protecting, rescuing, and caring for its own people.
Once again, reality proved otherwise.


























