‘Why Don’t You Give Me Likes?’: Maduro Wants to Ditch Despot Image

Eliud Baudin, a 36-year-old rapper in Caracas, actually appeared in one of Maduro’s viral posts. The president was driving by when Baudin had a flat tire and offered to help. He said he used the opportunity to pitch Maduro on the idea for a bike park outside of the capital called La Fuga. The government funded it, and the 160-hectare park opened May 11.

“Maduro is killing it. He’s becoming more human, he’s being a normal person,” Baudin said. “He’s not acting like a young person but like an adult trying to understand young people.”

Of course, social media is a logical place for him to find Venezuela’s youth. And the country’s demographics show why Maduro is targeting them: The 7.7 million Venezuelans who fled the country’s economic collapse were largely of working age. That left behind the middle-aged and elderly population, who watched their wages and pensions collapse, and the nation’s youngest, who are now coming into voting age.

“The new generations have no reference to what democracy was. They do not know it, they have no comparison,” said Jesús Castellanos, a political scientist and former Venezuela electoral authority official now based in Chile. “They are not as worn out, they are potential clients or followers.”

Even still, Maduro cannot erase the everyday reality his country faces.

Nearly 8 out of 10 Venezuelans live in poverty and don’t have the means to buy food and essentials, UN envoy Michael Fakhri said in February after visiting the country, emphasizing the hunger and malnutrition he’d witnessed among children, women and the elderly.

While the presidential campaign doesn’t officially begin until July 4, Maduro had already increased public spending by 80% from January through May, to $1.5 billion monthly, compared with the same period in 2023, according to economist Tamara Herrera, managing director at Síntesis Financiera.

In May, Maduro increased the monthly income for public workers to $130, the first significant increase since 2022. Monthly food costs for a family of four, meanwhile, are roughly $550, according to Caracas research group Cendas.

He’s also trying to convince young people that they can enjoy a normal life by building at least 100 spaces dedicated to them. The first opened in early March, in the western state of Falcón, boasting 36 hectares of padel tennis courts, skate parks, playgrounds and walkways.

Only Venezuelans who reside in countries with diplomatic relations with Maduro’s government can cast absentee ballots. Those in places like the US or Canada can fly back to vote, but most can’t afford to.

Venezuelans who fled harsh economic conditions faced the greatest hurdles in registering to participate in the election. During the recent window to enroll and update their data, there was little staff and few machines amid other irregularities at embassies, according to advocacy group My Vote Counts. While roughly 500 Venezuelans abroad were able to register and another 6,000 were able to update their personal information in the electoral authority’s system, the nonprofit estimates that around 4.5 million have been prevented from participating.

Meanwhile, Maduro is focusing efforts on people who are directly benefiting from his government—those who are more likely to vote for him. Sources actively participating in non-government efforts to enable voter registration say Maduro’s administration has made enrollment a requirement for those seeking entry into Chamba Juvenil, a youth program that provides access to subsidies and job opportunities.

They also said enrollment has been a requirement for those seeking a spot to study at Bolivarian University in Caracas, to open an account at a state-owned bank to be able to receive handouts, and to serve in the military.

The other issue Maduro has to contend with is political apathy.

In efforts to boost voting participation, Youth Vote recently held a soccer cup with cash prizes. The only requirement was that participants show proof they were enrolled in the electoral registry. That wasn’t quite enough.

“I registered to be able to play, I’m not very interested in voting,” said Alejandro Puente, a 23-year-old musician and social work student. “Everything is arranged, rigged,” he said of Venezuela’s elections.

José Yépez, a 21-year-old communications student at Catholic University in Caracas, knows he is a rarity within his generation. While most of his friends aren’t enrolled in the electoral registry, he registered as soon as he turned 18 and has already voted once, he said.

“I don’t follow Maduro but I do look him up sometimes,” Yépez said. “What he’s doing on TikTok and the podcast is interesting. Sure it can be silly, but he’s at least doing something, and no one here has that level of production.”

The opposition, meanwhile, faces extreme limits on its ability to campaign. Machado has been barred from appearing on local TV stations or national radio stations, where hosts are warned against mentioning her or other opposition leaders by name. Doing so is punishable by sanctions or even expulsion from airwaves. Access to her party’s website is blocked within the country. At times, the venues where Machado holds meetings or speeches are later closed or audited by government authorities, she’s said. Signal blockers and power outages often interrupt her planned appearances.

Venezuelan audiences have been bombarded with—and limited to—government-sponsored content for nearly two decades now. That’s allowed Maduro to achieve at least the appearance of public approval, whether real or not.

On the April 29 episode of his TV show, Maduro said that while more surprises were to come on social media “because we are innovating all the time,” it wasn’t enough.

“We work for real. We are not satisfied with appearing on TikTok, on Instagram, on YouTube,” Maduro said. “That’s why I talk about being in the social media, in the streets, in the media and on the walls.”