As the deposed Venezuelan autocrat Nicolás Maduro lingers in a Brooklyn prison, the mild-mannered former ambassador who overwhelmingly beat him in the country’s 2024 presidential election is struggling to steer his homeland’s future from a modest apartment in Madrid.
In a simple headquarters kept spotless by his wife and sparsely decorated with a Virgin Mary statuette, the politician, Edmundo González, 76, is addressed as “presidente” as he works on prisoner releases, speaks with dignitaries and drafts a platform for what seems likely to be a long shadow government, according to fellow exiles who have met with him.
Mr. González, who went into exile after Mr. Maduro and his oppressive military apparatus refused to accept defeat, is perhaps the leading figure of Spain’s Venezuelan diaspora. With roughly 700,000 members, it is the largest Venezuelan community outside the Americas, wielding outsize influence and standing to gain big from Mr. Maduro’s capture.
In addition to a president-elect and a first lady in waiting, it includes a dashing opposition leader; a former mayor of Caracas; and myriad politicians, generals and mysterious businessmen — some enriched with oil, others corruption — who have bought up so much of Madrid’s exclusive Salamanca neighborhood that some parts have become known as Little Caracas.
“Madrid is the center where the leaders with the highest political responsibilities are based,” said Ismael García, a prominent member of the Venezuelan opposition who works with Mr. González in Spain. It is where, he said, “the most important issues are discussed.”
The overarching issue for Spain’s Venezuelan exiles is the whiplash induced by the United States’ removal of Mr. Maduro, only to stick with his deputy.
Many in the Madrid diaspora — especially conservatives who took up the Trumpian “Make Venezuela Great Again” motto — had campaigned for American military intervention. They fantasized about a swift return home to see their families, run for office or replenish their fortunes in vast petroleum fields. They celebrated the Jan. 3 abduction of Mr. Maduro by American special forces and expected it to prompt the installation of Mr. González or María Corina Machado, the opposition leader and Nobel Peace Prize winner who propped up his candidacy.
But despite Mr. González’s staking his claim to the presidency and saying in a video that Mr. Maduro’s removal was “not enough,” the president-elect remains in Madrid. President Trump has, some exiles complain, pulled the rug out from under the long-suffering opposition by sticking with Mr. Maduro’s hard-line vice president, Delcy Rodríguez, as the regime figure better positioned to deliver the oil and change that Mr. Trump has demanded.
“Their champagne might grow stale,” said Boris Izaguirre, a Venezuelan writer and showman who hosted Miss Venezuela competitions and who has become one of Spain’s leading television personalities. He spoke in the tearoom of the Wellington Hotel, which he called the “town hall” of the diaspora’s power players who he said had dollar signs in their eyes when they talked of returning “to help Venezuela.”
“I don’t think these are happy days for them,” he said.
Mr. Izaguirre then left for a dinner, where, he said later, some of the city’s leading right-wing Venezuelans debated the need to adapt to the new, less ideologically pure, reality in which Mr. Maduro’s allies remained in charge despite his capture. It reminded Mr. Izaguirre of a quote attributed to a saint by Truman Capote: “More tears are shed over answered prayers than unanswered ones.”
An analysis, passed around the diaspora’s group chats, argued that there needed to be a gradual transition in the regime, which still had control of the military and intelligence services, before Ms. Machado or Mr. González could safely return.
Carlos Tablante, a Venezuelan former minister now based in Madrid, said it was unrealistic for the exiled opposition to rush back to a country still run by officials who could fling them in jail. “It’s more useful to have an elected president in Madrid than in prison in Caracas,” said Mr. Tablante, who last saw Mr. González in a New Year’s Eve video phone greeting from across town. Still, others worry about losing momentum and that Mr. González and his ilk may be forced to become permanent Madrid residents.
Venezuela and Spain have long and tight ties. Many Spaniards fled to Venezuela during the dictatorship of Francisco Franco. When Hugo Chávez took power in Caracas, establishing a socialist-influenced ruling model, nationalizing major industries and pushing out Spanish oil and banking interests, many wealthy Venezuelans began seeking sanctuary in Spain. That exodus only increased under Mr. Maduro, who succeeded Mr. Chávez in 2013, and included Chávez associates looking to park their cash.
In the meantime, Venezuela became an ideological dividing line in Spain’s domestic politics, with Spanish conservatives aligning with exiles to try to paint their left-leaning prime minister, Pedro Sánchez, as Maduro-lite.
Many Venezuelans around Madrid found the comparison far-fetched, especially because Mr. Sánchez, who has tried to position himself as a bridge between Mr. González and Ms. Rodríguez, has provided sanctuary to many of the exiles.
In November, Mr. González was especially concerned that a rising anti-migrant sentiment among his allies in Spanish conservative parties could hurt the country’s large Venezuelan diaspora, according to Mr. Tablante, the former minister, who has met with the president-elect.
Mr. González declined to speak to The New York Times. He has been told by Ms. Machado to lie low, exiles say, as she desperately seeks to get on the good side of Mr. Trump — including by giving him her Nobel Peace Prize on Thursday at a meeting at the White House.
In these strange weeks, Madrid has become a mix of “parties and fear,” said Johanna von Müller-Klingspor, a restaurateur who is active in Madrid society and a foundation supporting Venezuelan exiles. Her Salamanca neighborhood restaurant is, she said, “the embassy” where the well-heeled and politically powerful exiles — including, she said, Mr. González — come to eat tequeños, fried dough stuffed with cheese, under taxidermic ibex heads.
Ms. von Müller-Klingspor, 50, said she has admired Ms. Machado since they got to know each other in her 20s in Caracas. But she said that a transition to democracy needed to take place before Ms. Machado or Mr. González could take their rightful place.
Madrid is not short on options for potential Venezuelan leaders. Its handsome Salamanca streets are also home to Leopoldo López, the wealthy and Harvard-trained pro-democracy activist who led opposition protests to Mr. Maduro in 2014. Mr. López suffered years of imprisonment and house arrest and fled to Spain in 2020. Mr. López’s father, another prominent exile, has become a member of the European Parliament with Spain’s conservative People’s Party.
Madrid’s Venezuelan diaspora extends well beyond the leading political and business figures. In the busy Maravillas Market, lined with Venezuelan food stalls, Alessandro Di Stasio, a Venezuelan investigative journalist, said he had welcomed the news of Mr. Maduro’s removal, but remained careful about what he published under his name. “I will return when democracy is guaranteed,” he said.
All of these exiled voices, said María Costanza Cipriani, whose imprisoned husband was Ms. Machado’s lawyer, helped call for a Venezuela that would eventually respect the 2024 election results.
“They are the voice of Venezuela outside Venezuela,” she said. “They amplify our voice.”
Jason Horowitz is the Madrid bureau chief for The Times, covering Spain, Portugal and the way people live throughout Europe.
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