BOGOTA, Colombia – In a surprising turn amid spiraling diplomatic frictions, Venezuela's government announced Tuesday the resumption of migrant repatriation flights from the United States, just days after suspending them due to President Donald Trump's declaration that Venezuelan airspace should be considered "closed in its entirety." The move, prompted by direct requests from the Trump administration, underscores the fragile backchannels of communication between Washington and Caracas even as U.S. military operations intensify in the region, including lethal strikes on suspected drug-smuggling vessels that have claimed at least 83 lives since September.
Venezuela's Transportation Ministry issued a statement confirming that flights operated by Eastern Airlines, departing from Phoenix, Arizona, and landing at Maiquetía International Airport near Caracas, would recommence on a regular schedule of Wednesdays and Fridays. "The Aeronautic Authority of Venezuela has received a request from the government of the United States to restart migrant repatriation flights from that country to Venezuela," the ministry said, emphasizing that the program aligns with the "Return to the Homeland Plan" aimed at reuniting Venezuelan families. This reversal comes after Venezuelan officials accused Trump's weekend remarks of unilaterally halting the flights, creating widespread confusion among deportees and aviation authorities.
The repatriation initiative, which began in February 2025 under agreements brokered by Trump's envoy Richard Grenell, has facilitated the return of nearly 14,000 Venezuelans to their homeland amid the administration's aggressive immigration crackdown. Human rights advocates have raised alarms over the program's conditions, noting that deportees often face inadequate support upon arrival in a nation grappling with hyperinflation, food shortages, and political repression under President Nicolás Maduro. Yet, Maduro has portrayed the flights as a humanitarian success, framing them as voluntary returns from "harsh conditions" in the U.S., including detention centers criticized for overcrowding and limited medical care.
Trump's provocative statement, posted on his Truth Social platform Saturday morning, read: "To all Airlines, Pilots, Drug Dealers, and Human Traffickers, please consider THE AIRSPACE ABOVE AND SURROUNDING VENEZUELA TO BE CLOSED IN ITS ENTIRETY." The post, which lacked legal authority under international law to enforce such a closure, was interpreted by Venezuelan officials as a "colonialist threat" to national sovereignty. Caracas responded defiantly, asserting that "no authority outside the Venezuelan institutional framework has the power to interfere with, block, or condition the use of international airspace." Despite the rhetoric, flight-tracking data from services like Flightradar24 indicated that commercial and repatriation flights continued to traverse the region, with several hundred scheduled arrivals into Venezuela for December alone.
This episode marks the latest flashpoint in a broader escalation of U.S.-Venezuela tensions that have defined Trump's second term. Since January 2025, the administration has designated Maduro and key allies, including Interior Minister Diosdado Cabello and Defense Minister Vladimir Padrino López, as leaders of the "Cartel de los Soles," a purported state-sponsored narcotics network. The label empowers the U.S. military to target associated assets without traditional due process, blurring the lines between law enforcement and warfare.
Compounding the strain, the U.S. has dramatically expanded its military footprint across Latin America. In August, the amphibious assault ship USS Iwo Jima and its ready group were redeployed to the Caribbean, followed in November by the nuclear-powered aircraft carrier USS Gerald R. Ford and its strike group, bringing the total U.S. troop presence to approximately 15,000—the largest non-disaster-related deployment in the region since the 1994 Haiti intervention. Defense Secretary Pete Hegseth has overseen the rollout of "Operation Southern Spear," a Joint Task Force initiative incorporating drones, submarines, fighter jets, and autonomous robotics to interdict smuggling routes.
Central to this campaign are the airstrikes on suspected drug vessels, which began on September 2 with a double-tap attack on a speedboat allegedly operated by the Venezuelan gang Tren de Aragua, killing 11 people. The U.S. military has since conducted 21 such operations across the Caribbean Sea and Eastern Pacific Ocean, targeting 22 vessels—including semi-submersibles linked to Colombia's National Liberation Army (ELN)—resulting in at least 83 deaths, with one survivor repatriated to Colombia. Hegseth has publicly justified the strikes as actions against "narco-terrorists," claiming they prevent fentanyl and cocaine from reaching American streets and estimating each destroyed vessel saves "25,000 lives."
However, experts and international observers have challenged the administration's narrative. Narcotics analysts note that Caribbean routes primarily facilitate cocaine shipments to Europe, not fentanyl, which is overwhelmingly smuggled overland from Mexico. The U.S. State Department's 2025 International Narcotics Control Strategy Report identifies Mexico as the sole significant source of fentanyl affecting the U.S., with Venezuelan and Colombian boats more commonly transporting cocaine to global markets via indirect paths. Critics, including former military lawyers, argue the strikes constitute extrajudicial killings, violating international humanitarian law by targeting civilians without imminent threat or verifiable evidence of narcotics aboard. No seized drugs have been publicly displayed, and the operations have drawn bipartisan congressional scrutiny.
Latin American reactions have been fragmented along ideological lines. Left-leaning leaders in Colombia, Mexico, and Brazil—such as Presidents Gustavo Petro and Claudia Sheinbaum—have condemned the strikes as aggressive overreach, with Petro accusing the U.S. of murdering innocent fishermen, including Colombian citizens. Mexico secured a November protocol shifting interdictions to its navy to avoid further bombings near its coasts. Right-leaning governments in Paraguay, Argentina, and Ecuador have tacitly supported the efforts, viewing them as aligned with anti-cartel priorities. Globally, China has decried the actions as destabilizing, urging judicial cooperation over unilateral force, while Iran's UN ambassador labeled them illegal. Even Pope Leo XIV has called for dialogue, warning that the strikes are "increasing tension" near Venezuela's shores.
The airspace declaration has already rippled through global aviation. Last week's Federal Aviation Administration (FAA) advisory warned of a "potentially hazardous situation" due to "heightened military activity," prompting airlines like Iberia, Air Europa, Turkish Airlines, and Avianca to suspend or reroute flights, canceling up to 36 weekly services and stranding thousands during Venezuela's peak holiday season. Venezuela retaliated by revoking operating licenses for six major carriers, though it has since hinted at reversals for cooperative airlines. GPS disruptions in Venezuelan airspace, attributed to U.S. electronic warfare testing, have further complicated navigation.
Beneath the bluster, pragmatic ties persist. Last month, Trump and Maduro held a rare phone call discussing a potential summit, and U.S. oil major Chevron continues exporting Venezuelan crude under a sanctions waiver. October saw 10 deportation flights land in Caracas uninterrupted, suggesting the airspace rhetoric serves more as leverage than literal policy. Analysts argue the U.S. buildup has paradoxically unified Maduro's regime, quelling internal opposition by rallying nationalists against perceived imperialism. Others warn of a "Libya-style" fragmentation if strikes extend inland, potentially spawning warlordism and refugee surges.
As the first post-resumption flight prepares for takeoff from Phoenix—carrying around 200 deportees—the incident highlights the contradictions in U.S. strategy: aggressive posturing to pressure Maduro's ouster, yet selective cooperation on migration and energy. With Trump hinting at land-based operations "very soon," the region braces for what could be the most volatile chapter in decades of U.S.-Latin American relations. Whether this leads to de-escalation through quiet diplomacy or outright confrontation remains uncertain, but the human cost—already mounting in lost lives at sea and shattered families—demands urgent international mediation.
