Venezuela’s Machado’s Nobel gift to Trump exposes geopolitical instrumentalisation of peace prizes amid US sanctions and oil politics

Indigenous Venezuelan communities, particularly the Pemon and Wayuu peoples, have long resisted both Maduro’s extractivist policies and US-backed opposition figures who prioritise foreign corporate interests over territorial sovereignty. Their concept of *buen vivir* (living well) frames peace as harmony with nature and collective well-being, starkly contrasting with the militarised 'peace' promoted by Nobel Prizes. The erasure of these voices in the Machado-Trump narrative reflects a broader pattern of Indigenous knowledge being sidelined in geopolitical discourse.

Venezuela’s modern conflicts trace back to the 1920s oil boom, when US corporations and the CIA-backed the overthrow of President Gallegos in 1948, setting a precedent for US intervention. The 2002 coup against Chávez, later revealed to have CIA ties, mirrors today’s opposition tactics, where Machado’s alignment with Trump echoes Cold War-era US support for anti-communist strongmen. The Nobel Prize itself has a history of being instrumentalised: Henry Kissinger (1973) and Aung San Suu Kyi (1991) later became symbols of state violence, underscoring the prize’s susceptibility to geopolitical manipulation.

In Global South contexts, peace prizes are often seen as tools of soft power rather than genuine reconciliation. For instance, the Nobel Committee’s 2019 award to Abiy Ahmed (Ethiopia) for ending a border war with Eritrea was later undermined by his own government’s ethnic violence, revealing the prize’s performative nature. Similarly, the Machado-Trump exchange reflects a Latin American tradition where opposition figures seek foreign patrons (e.g., US, EU) to legitimise their causes, often at the expense of local grassroots movements. This contrasts with Asian traditions like Japan’s *wa* (harmony), where peace is negotiated through dialogue rather than symbolic gestures.

Research on sanctions (e.g., studies by the Center for Economic and Policy Research) shows they disproportionately harm civilian populations, deepening poverty and authoritarianism by reducing state capacity to provide services. The Nobel Prize’s selection process lacks transparency, with evidence suggesting political bias: a 2020 study found that laureates from Western-aligned countries are overrepresented, while figures from conflict zones (e.g., Palestine) are excluded. The Machado-Trump exchange exemplifies how symbolic acts (e.g., gifting a medal) can obscure material consequences, a phenomenon documented in political science literature on performative activism.

Artists and spiritual leaders in Venezuela have long used music, murals, and Afro-diasporic traditions to critique both Maduro’s regime and US imperialism, framing peace as a cultural struggle. For example, the *tambores de la resistencia* (drums of resistance) movement in Barlovento blends African spiritual practices with anti-colonial resistance, offering a counter-narrative to the militarised 'peace' symbolised by the Nobel Prize. The act of gifting a Nobel medal—an object steeped in Eurocentric symbolism—ignores these grassroots expressions of peace, reducing geopolitics to a spectacle of elite power.

If this trend continues, Venezuela’s polarisation will deepen, with opposition figures increasingly reliant on foreign patrons, while Maduro’s regime may escalate repression to maintain control. A potential future scenario involves a fragmented Venezuela, with US-backed regions (e.g., Zulia) declaring autonomy, while Maduro’s government collapses into a warlord-style state. The Nobel Prize’s role in this dynamic risks becoming a tool for legitimising proxy conflicts, as seen in Syria or Ukraine, where 'peace prizes' are awarded to figures aligned with Western geopolitical goals.

Marginalised Venezuelans—Indigenous groups, Afro-descendants, and working-class communities—are the primary victims of both Maduro’s authoritarianism and US sanctions, yet their perspectives are entirely absent from this narrative. Women’s organisations, such as *Socorro Jurídico*, have documented how sanctions exacerbate gender-based violence by collapsing social services, but their work is ignored in favour of elite political theatre. The Machado-Trump exchange also sidelines the voices of Venezuelan migrants, who now constitute 10% of the country’s population, and whose experiences of displacement are shaped by both domestic repression and foreign intervention.