How Venezuelans Stay Connected in Crisis

The ongoing crisis in Venezuela has fundamentally reshaped how citizens access and share information, creating a resilient network built on digital tools and community vigilance. When traditional media fails, people turn to encrypted messaging and satellite technology to piece together reality, navigating a landscape where connectivity is both a lifeline and a potential risk.

On a Saturday morning in early January, the sudden roar of explosions jolted residents of the La Carlota neighborhood in Caracas awake. For Marina G., the violent shaking of her apartment initially felt like an earthquake. The frantic scrambling of her cat and the relentless barking of neighborhood dogs added to the chaos. The truth became clearer with the persistent hum of low-flying military aircraft and the sight of cadets fleeing a nearby army headquarters in their casual attire. This was no natural disaster.

Seeking answers, Marina bypassed television and radio entirely. The state-run channel was airing a cultural minister’s visit abroad, oblivious to the attacks unfolding across the capital and several states. Instead, her cell phone buzzed relentlessly with WhatsApp messages from contacts, their warnings cutting through the confusion: “They’re bombing Caracas!” This instant, peer-to-peer communication became the primary news source.

The absence of traditional journalism during such critical moments is stark. Years of government pressure, censorship, and imprisonment have left newsrooms hollow and reporters fearing for their safety. This void means major events often unfold without professional documentation, forcing citizens to become their own correspondents. The fear of arbitrary detention and extortion is pervasive, leading many to adopt stringent digital security practices just to navigate daily life.

Venezuelans have learned to restrict chats, hide sensitive files, and automatically delete messages that could be deemed compromising. A common precaution involves leaving phones at home. If carrying one is necessary, people meticulously scrub their devices of photos, stickers, or memes that might be interpreted as subversive. This collective paranoia, while born of necessity, has also fostered a powerful, decentralized information network.

It is ordinary people who sustain this network. Shortly after the January explosions, the first videos emerged not from news crews, but from individuals filming from balconies, windows, and even beaches where New Year celebrations were winding down. Hikers camping on a nearby mountain peak captured panoramic shots of the blasts over the Caracas Valley. These citizen-recorded clips often circulate globally before official confirmations are made.

Connectivity challenges grow more severe outside the capital. In remote Andean villages, intermittent service and high altitudes create information deserts. Travelers in one such town relied on sporadic phone calls through national operators, as WhatsApp was inaccessible. They bridged this gap using a portable Starlink satellite internet antenna, a device that provided a crucial link to the outside world. During the crisis, this SpaceX service was offered free to Venezuelans, demonstrating how satellite technology can become an essential tool for communication when terrestrial networks are unreliable or controlled.

This adaptive ecosystem shows how communities can forge pathways to truth under extreme constraints. By blending encrypted apps, satellite access, and shared vigilance, Venezuelans manage to stay informed and connected, resisting isolation despite the formidable obstacles they face.

(Source: Wired)