This story by Estefanía Salazar originally appeared on Global Voices on January 16, 2026.
While the world is engaged in heated debates — both on and offline — about the legality of Donald Trump’s January 3 military airstrikes in Venezuela, relatives and friends are fighting for the full release of loved ones from unjust imprisonment in the South American country.
On January 8, Jorge Rodríguez, head of the Venezuelan National Assembly (Asamblea Nacional), announced the release of a “significant number of imprisoned individuals,” as a “unilateral gesture” in the beleaguered country. However, the congressman did not provide an official release list.
Those detained are considered to be “victims of politically motivated persecution” by the government formerly led by Nicolás Maduro. This is part of a “long-standing and appalling human rights record” by the leadership, according to the United Nations-commissioned Fact-Finding Mission on the Bolivarian Republic of Venezuela, which has been active since 2019.
At least 863 people fell under the aforementioned criteria, according to an ongoing, long-term vetted tally by the Foro Penal, a Venezuelan human rights NGO. They are women and men from all backgrounds, including older adults, journalists, and foreigners.
However, as of 7.00 a.m. on January 16 (Venezuelan local time), the figures diverged on the number of released prisoners. Only 84 — out of more than their original vetted estimate of more than 800 — had been freed, according to Alfredo Romero, of Foro Penal. Half an hour later, Acting President Delcy Rodríguez set the release number to 406 during a press conference at Miraflores Palace in Caracas, the official seat of the Venezuelan presidency.
No names were provided by the acting president, who is the sister of the head of the Venezuelan National Assembly, Jorge Rodríguez.
Several independent advocacy groups are the protagonists of the local push for the release of Venezuelan political prisoners: the Committee for the Freedom of Political Prisoners in Venezuela (Comité por la Liberación de los Presos Políticos, CLIPPVE) and the Committee of Mothers for the Defense of the Truth (Comité de las Madres en Defensa de la Verdad), among others.
Relatives (especially women), supporters from the general public, and even former political prisoners participate in these activities. They have also brought food and medicines to their loved ones over the years, whenever visits were allowed inside prison facilities.
Their actions are not confined to a particular political affiliation. Last year, the then-active Committee for the Defense of the Venezuelan Migrants (Comité por la Defensa de los Migrantes Venezolanos) pushed for the return of the 252 Venezuelan migrants unjustly imprisoned by the Donald Trump and Nayib Bukele administrations at El Salvador’s infamous CECOT mega prison. Followers of Nicolás Maduro are also allegedly included among the people currently considered political prisoners in Venezuela.
“Organization is key for the defense of human rights,” said Marino Alvarado, attorney and activist, during an open meeting held in August 1, 2024 between families, human rights non-profits and press members at the Universidad Central de Venezuela in Caracas, held in the midst of the 2024 post-electoral repression.
“Let’s find each other, let’s get organized, and you will be better able to support your loved ones,” Alvarado then recommended. He spoke from lived experience, as the Demanding Coordinator for the Venezuelan Program for Education and Action in Human Rights (Provea), another renowned Venezuelan human rights NGO, founded in 1988.
By the end of the meeting, those words seemed to come alive. As the press was leaving the meeting that day, a group of relatives was observed around the table, carefully speaking with Alvarado and drafting ideas on paper. Some of those faces could be found later in activities of their own as the CLIPPVE, always carrying black fabric with a constant appeal in white lettering: Liberen A Los Presos Políticos (Free the Political Prisoners).
Nonviolence and immense courage shape the current actions of Venezuelan advocacy groups: candlelight vigils, prayers, pages of names of their loved ones, and camaraderie. In the past, some have even seen unprovoked attacks from unidentified groups, including the Committee of Mothers near the Venezuelan Supreme Court on August 5, 2025.
Families who are waiting near Venezuelan detention centers — confirmed releases have so far come without previous notice — now face spells of colder weather, lack of public transportation and scarce (open) support from outsiders. The fear of repressive practices by the current Delcy Rodríguez administration has not subsided.
They are soldiering on together, focusing on social media as their primary medium of communication, using hashtags such as #QueSeanTodos.
Caring for loved ones persecuted for political reasons is not a new endeavor in Venezuela and other Latin American countries.
The long-term impact — both local and international — of a human rights activist group should not be overstated. The Grandmothers of Plaza de Mayo (Abuelas de Plaza de Mayo), first founded in 1977 during Argentina’s last military dictatorship, organized themselves around the need to find the missing babies and small children of disappeared activists in the South American country.
They did not just become a fully-formed NGO within Argentina, but went beyond Argentine borders. For over 30 years, the grandmothers have collaborated with scientific non-profit teams such as the Argentine Forensic Anthropology Team (EAAF in Spanish), in order to identify formerly abducted children through genetics. To date, 140 adults have found their original identity, thanks to the Grandmothers.
The EAAF has helped solve other international cases, including Ayotzinapa/Iguala (Mexico) and El Mozote (El Salvador) massacres.
Back in Venezuela, the future aims of movements like CLIPPVE and the Committee of Mothers for the Defense of the Truth remain to be seen. However, their testimony will be a crucial step into a Venezuela that is in dire need of further work on human rights, especially on Memory, Justice and Democracy (Memoria, Justice and Democracy), as stated by Provea’s general coordinator, Oscar Murillo, on January 11.
We’ve had an overwhelming week in every sense… History suggests letting things cool down a bit to conduct a more accurate analysis, but without a doubt, January 3, 2026, marks the beginning of a period no less unstable and fraught with tension, one that demands the best from each of us. The political project that thrived on resentment could never erase the true humanity of Venezuelans. The country is not broken. On the contrary, the yearning for freedom and justice, for genuine change through democracy and human dignity, defines the sentiment of a nation with high expectations. Today more than ever, from @_Provea we renew our commitment to the urgent reconstruction of democracy through support for victims in the process of Memory, Truth, and Justice. We will prioritize supporting social struggles for the defense of economic, social, and cultural rights and the construction of a common agenda for the human rights movement. Sooner rather than later, we will leave behind the darkness of authoritarianism. We Venezuelans have the right to live in a democracy, as we have demanded throughout our republican history.
[VP]
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