By Fauzan Luthsa, Analyst at the Indonesia Democracy Bridge Research Institute (Ind-BRI)

LENTERAMERAH — Beyond the announcement of a tentative ceasefire between Hamas and Israel in Gaza, no international development this week has drawn more intrigue and speculation than the unveiling of this year’s Nobel Peace Prize laureate.

In the months leading up to it, a wave of support had built around former U.S. President Donald Trump, credited by his followers for brokering “peace” in Gaza. Trump himself made no secret of his belief that he deserved the world’s most prestigious peace accolade, citing his success in halting six separate conflicts over the past year.

But when the Nobel Committee named María Corina Machado, the Venezuelan opposition figure, the speculation—and the controversy—quietly evaporated. The announcement of Machado’s Nobel Prize appeared to silence that campaign, redirecting global attention from Trump’s peace narrative to Venezuela’s opposition struggle.

Whether one likes it or not, it is difficult to imagine Israel halting its campaign in Gaza without Trump’s heavy-handed diplomacy. Yet the Committee’s decision to award the prize to Machado rather than Trump invites deeper reflection—especially given the curious political synchronicity between the award and the recent U.S. naval deployment of 4,000 Marines off Venezuela’s coast.

The move seems far from coincidental.

Machado and Washington’s Shadow

The Nobel Committee praised Machado for her tireless struggle for democratic rights and her commitment to a peaceful transition from dictatorship to democracy in Venezuela. Behind that moral image, however, lies a political trajectory long aligned with Washington’s orbit.

To many observers, Machado’s Nobel Prize seemed less a moral recognition than a continuation of Trump’s unfinished geopolitical story — a victory achieved through substitution.

Machado began her public life as a civic activist and co-founded the NGO Súmate in 2001 to monitor elections and promote citizen participation. To Hugo Chávez, Súmate was little more than an American front seeking to destabilize his socialist project, which had nationalized oil, steel, and agriculture at the expense of U.S. corporations.

She later served in the National Assembly, representing Miranda state with one of the largest vote totals in the country. A staunch liberal democrat, Machado has long enjoyed backing from the National Endowment for Democracy (NED)—a U.S.-funded organization often accused of bankrolling “color revolutions” abroad. Ironically, NED was once condemned by Trump himself as part of the deep state.

Her ideological stance placed her in direct confrontation with the Chavista establishment of Hugo Chávez and Nicolás Maduro. In June 2023, Venezuela’s electoral authority disqualified her from running for president and banned her from holding public office for fifteen years due to her role in anti-government protests.

At the same time, Washington tightened its grip: imposing over a thousand sanctions under the banner of a “war on drugs,” and conducting at least four reported military operations in the Caribbean targeting vessels near Venezuelan waters.

The Maduro government dismissed the claims as cover for aggression, saying the victims were fishermen, not traffickers.

The coincidence of Machado’s Nobel Peace Prize and a simultaneous U.S. maritime buildup around Venezuela is difficult to ignore. Both serve a single strategic end—to weaken and eventually unseat Nicolás Maduro.
For Washington, regime change in one of the world’s largest oil producers remains a high geopolitical priority.

Placare Potentem per Substitutionem: The Logic Behind Machado’s Nobel Prize

Placare Potentem per Substitutionem — “to appease the powerful through substitution” — captures the essence of Machado’s Nobel Prize, a gesture that fulfilled Trump’s ambitions in a different theater of global influence. It is the art of diplomacy practiced by weaker actors seeking to satisfy dominant powers without open confrontation.

In the summer of 1938, Adolf Hitler demanded the annexation of Czechoslovakia’s Sudetenland. To avert war, the leaders of Britain, France, and Italy conceded the territory in what became the Munich Pact, trading justice for temporary peace. The same logic endures: sometimes, peace is less about principle than about appeasement.

The phrase echoes Machiavelli’s realism, where weaker states must navigate stronger ones with prudence to survive—and aligns with Sun Tzu’s dictum of winning political battles without open confrontation.

By that logic, the Nobel Committee’s choice of Machado becomes a masterstroke of symbolic politics. Awarding the prize to Trump would have polarized the world and tarnished the Committee’s reputation; ignoring his diplomatic achievements entirely would have seemed equally political.

Machado, then, became the perfect substitute—a symbolic gift that placated Washington while preserving Oslo’s moral distance.

For Trump, the absence of a medal was offset by something subtler: the consolidation of U.S. leverage in Venezuela. For the Nobel Committee, it was an elegant way to serve power without appearing to do so—a mutua commoda, a mutually convenient arrangement in the theater of global politics.

Conclusion

Granting the Nobel Peace Prize to an opposition leader is a non-military means of exerting pressure on a sitting regime. It arms Venezuela’s opposition with new legitimacy, strengthens Washington’s hand, and deepens the isolation of Maduro’s government.

The award reminds us that appeasing power is often more important than upholding truth. The Nobel Committee may wish to appear above politics, yet its decision remains the most sophisticated symbolic gesture in service of Washington’s strategic ambitions over Caracas.

And behind the language of peace, we are reminded once again—ideals, too, have their masters. ***