Regime Changes in 2026: Lessons from Venezuela and Iran, and the Cuban Question

    Probably like most people, I've spent the past 2 months looking at events from Caracas to Tehran. The ousting of Nicolás Maduro in January 2026 via U.S.-led intervention, and the assassination of Ayatollah Ali Khamenei on 28 February by a joint U.S.-Israeli strike, mark seismic shifts in authoritarian regimes. Yet, these events underscore a timeless truth: no two nations are alike, and each must carve its own path to renewal. Lumping them together ignores the cultural, historical, and social tapestries that shape public reactions—often with a cynicism born of past betrayals.

    In Venezuela, the mood post-Maduro is a cocktail of relief and fear. The diaspora, scattered across Miami, Madrid, and Bogotá, erupted in jubilation, dubbing it the "Arepazo" effect - street parties celebrating justice for economic ruin and human rights horrors. Polls among U.S. based Venezuelans show over 90% approval for the intervention, with gratitude towards the Trump administration running high. Yet, inside the country, it's subdued. Delcy Rodríguez's interim presidency keeps the Chavista machinery - colectivos and military - intact, fostering a "wait-and-see" skepticism. People whisper hopes of reunion but dread treason charges or reprisals. Sovereignty critics fume at U.S. hints of oil management, viewing it as neighbourly overreach, while the opposition feels sidelined despite their 2024 electoral win. It's not outright opposition to Maduro's exit - over 90% are relieved - but anxiety about an incomplete dismantle of the old guard.

    Contrast this with Iran, where Khamenei's death feels like a religious rupture, not a mere political reset. The "Woman, Life, Freedom" protesters see it as the fall of a god-like tyrant, sharing sweets in Tehran despite enforced mourning. Campuses mock him as "Rat-Ali," symbolising his bunker-bound decline. The diaspora hails it as justice for January's massacres, echoing Prince Reza Pahlavi's dismissal of the Islamic Republic to history's dustbin. But loyalists, including the IRGC's 15-20% base, frame it as martyrdom, igniting vengeance rather than defeat. They decry it as an assault on Shi'a Muslims, consolidating power under an interim council. The majority, however, huddles in terror, fearing "Syrianisation" - civil war or economic freeze amid IRGC-controlled banks and food chains.

    These divergences highlight why cookie-cutter interventions falter. Venezuela's crisis was economic, rooted in oil mismanagement and corruption, allowing a surgical strike to spark hope abroad but tension at home. Iran's is theological, blending state and faith, so Khamenei's martyrdom risks enflaming hardliners rather than quelling them. Historical contexts matter: Venezuela's Chavismo eroded through elections and exodus, while Iran's theocracy endured via repression and religious legitimacy. No external blueprint fits; each society must navigate its own fractures, lest interventions breed resentment.

    This brings us to Cuba, where whispers of Trump-era "liberation" grow amid 2026's domino effect - especially post-Maduro, severing Venezuelan oil lifelines. Cuba's grid failures and hunger evoke the 1990s "Special Period," so initial reactions might prioritise physiological relief over politics. Desperate citizens could welcome aid, but with a hangover of sovereignty fears indoctrinated over 60 years. The diaspora in Miami would unleash a "60-year party," flooding the island with supplies and capital, creating a fleeting honeymoon.

    Yet, there are complications too. The military's GAESA conglomerate owns hotels, ports, and stores -  they're stakeholders, not just enforcers. Unlike Maduro's fleeing generals, they'd likely resist unless bought off, potentially sparking urban insurgency. National pride, forged in independence struggles, could swiftly go from "thank you, USA" into "go home, USA" if it smells like a takeover. Regional neighbours, already jittery from Venezuela and Iran, might decry the precedent, fearing U.S. unilateralism.

    Ultimately, no external muscle - be it strikes or sanctions - replaces the people's will. Venezuelans and Iranians show that true change demands internal momentum; foreign "help" can topple figureheads but not systems without it. Still, in a world of stagnant dictatorships, a sharp kick up the arse from abroad sometimes jolts the process. As we watch Cuba, let's hope any involvement respects that delicate balance, or it'll just perpetuate the cycle of cynicism we've seen too often.