Trump’s brand of populism is less about patriotism and more
about personal vengeance. His contempt for institutions, judiciary, and even
allies is legendary. He has converted grievance into a political doctrine and
chaos into an electoral strategy. To his followers, this looks like courage; to
the rest of the world, it looks like narcissism on steroids.
Machado, meanwhile, is being hailed by the Western media as
the “face of freedom.” But her freedom narrative is selective. She belongs to
the same Venezuelan elite that squandered the nation’s oil wealth long before
Hugo Chávez arrived. Her sudden rediscovery of democracy sounds less like
conviction and more like nostalgia for lost privilege.
In a country battered by sanctions, corruption, and poverty,
her promise to “rebuild Venezuela” rings hollow without a plan beyond regime
change.
Washington, as usual, has learned nothing. It once sold
dictators as “pro-West reformers”; now it packages every anti-Maduro voice as a
democrat. In reality, Machado’s politics is no less polarizing than Maduro’s —
only more polished in presentation.
Populism, whether draped in Trump’s flag or Machado’s
rhetoric, remains a dangerous narcotic. It feeds on resentment, not reason. It
dismantles institutions in the name of saving them.
Democracy cannot be rescued by those who believe they alone
embody the will of the people. Both Trump and Machado thrive on division and
deliver little more than slogans. Their rise exposes not their genius but our
collective fatigue with genuine leadership.
Neither deserves praise — because both are reflections of
societies that have mistaken noise for change.
