In May 2026, and again today, I have prepared a Commentary concerning the United States role in Venezuela after the removal and arrest of Nicolas Maduro during a short-duration military invasion of Venezuela by the United States. This is a subject of interest to the arbitration community for many reasons. So many of you have been involved as advocates or arbitrators in cases linked to Venezuela’s nationalizations of energy and mining interests. Some of us (not this Commentator) now have involvement as counsel in advising clients about dispute resolution aspects of new investment prospects for Venezuela. For many, the unique circumstances of the political and economic transition in Venezuela ensuing from the US military action directed by our President to remove Mr. Maduro, provide an opportunity to observe, on an ongoing basis, whether a failed State, as Venezuela evidently is, may be stabilized and revived by US diplomatic and military support for a democratically-illegitimate authoritarian regime — and whether this may be effectively done without an articulated plan for restoring democracy and rule of law, and indeed possibly with an unarticulated plan to support the post-Maduro “interim” successor regime indefinitely.
Lack of transparency is one obstacle to drawing any conclusions or making any informed predictions. But this is a subject that should interest us, and one to which our attention is drawn on an ongoing basis, because what America’s President has threatened with regard to other parts of the world — notably Cuba, Greenland, and less seriously Canada — has been implemented to a significant degree in Venezuela. As it is said on a sign outside a theater in New York’s Theatre District: Attention Must Be Paid.
It may be too soon to assess the impact on Venezuela’s trajectory of the tragedy of the recent earthquakes. Some news media reports suggest that the relatively moderate US Government crisis response is more consistent with an underlying policy of resource exploitation than with a commitment to Venezuela’s revival. Other reports suggest that the human losses and devastation, bearing most heavily on Venezuelans with the least economic means, could galvanize public opposition to the post-Maduro US-supported regime, even though the Maduro regime’s mechanisms for suppression of dissent have not been dismantled.
It appears hat licenses granted by the US Treasury Department’s Office of Foreign Asset Control (OFAC) beginning within days after the apprehension of Mr. Maduro, have enabled Venezuela to achieve modest gains in oil production and revenue — relative to the stagnant situation of 2025 — with the main driver of such gains being a US-imposed system that channels sales to US-approved customers and sales proceeds to US Treasury accounts (initially, Foreign Government Deposit Funds, (“FGDFs”)) through US-approved oil traders acting as brokers. Effectively, an OFAC sanctions program that began in 2015 with an objective to restore democracy and civil society in Venezuela, to eliminate corruption and eradicate poverty, presently operates mainly to channel sales of Venezuelan crude oil inventories to customers in countries aligned with policies of the US Administration, and to filter sales proceeds through the FGDFs or other US Treasury accounts. The FGDFs – which early on consisted mainly of an account or accounts in Qatar, but going forward may be in US Treasury accounts within the US – lack transparency because they are not systematically audited.
The FGDFs have one evidently constructive consequence: to prevent a disorderly race to attempt judicial execution upon Venezuelan cash assets by holders of Venezuela’s sovereign debt (recently estimated in the Financial Times to exceed $240 billion USD). But the lack of transparency leaves open questions about uses of the proceeds. How much goes to the traders as commission? How much goes to favored persons of the US President? Are any of the traders such persons? How much reaches favored persons in the post-Maduro regime of “interim” Venezuelan President Dulcy Rodriguez, as a means of maintaining US control? (This assessment is based on a variety of online sources, but one stands out deserving citation, a June 2026 article on the website of the Council on Foreign Relations presented by a former OFAC official: https://www.cfr.org/articles/the-u-s-took-over-venezuelas-oil-industry-where-has-all-the-money-gone).
But whether or not Venezuela in 2026 turns out, in retrospect, to have been a Kleptocracy dominated by the American President, Venezuela’s future — at least while its prospects for economic growth lie mainly in its natural resources — depends on new foreign investment for infrastructure to support a return to productivity levels not seen since the 1990s. Those decisions need to be made, substantially but not exclusively, by US investors, some of whom are holders of large components of Venezuela’s sovereign debt and also bear the battle scars of more than a decade of arbitrations, award enforcement cases, and litigations related to execution upon Venezuelan assets. The outlook for dispute resolution with regard to new disputes arising from execution and performance under new contracts, at some future date if and when disputes might arise, is presumably assessed to be above the level of “normal” project risk given the dispute resolution history, the pro-Maduro legacy of the “interim” regime, the longer-term transition in US policy when a new American President takes office, and the nature and timing of any transition in Venezuela’s government with attendant risks that a new government, installed after new elections in Venezuela, may not willingly adhere to terms of new State contracts that might be made in 2026.
Into this complex equation OFAC in June 206 inserted a new series of General Licenses. In terms of business opportunity, the new GLs generally track Licenses to conduct business in and with Venezuela that were described in the May 2026 Commentary on this site. But the June round of GLs provides a refinement of the dispute resolution options for such transactions. The new array of GLs, dated June 10, 2026, provides specific constraints on dispute resolution options, i.e. that “(i) the terms of the contract be construed and interpreted in accordance with the laws of a state or other jurisdiction within the United States and (ii) dispute resolution proceedings relating to the contract occur in the United States, the United Kingdom, France, or Singapore.” This represents a minor refinement of the governing law language in the January round of General Licenses, and a significant expansion of the options for selection of a judicial forum or arbitral seat.
This prescription is accompanied by a new “FAQ”, posed and answered by OFAC:
“Does the requirement in certain Venezuela General Licenses (e.g., 46C, 47A, 48B, 50B, 51B, 52A, and 54A) that the terms of contracts be construed and interpreted in accordance with the laws of a state or other jurisdiction within the United States mean that U.S. law must govern all aspects of the underlying activity?”
“No. Certain Venezuela general licenses (GLs) require that any contract for transactions authorized by the GL with the Government of Venezuela or certain other covered entities (e.g., Petróleos de Venezuela, S.A. in GL 52A or CVG Compañía General de Minería de Venezuela CA in GL 51B) specify that the terms of the contract be construed and interpreted in accordance with the laws of a state or other jurisdiction within the United States. The GLs also require dispute resolution proceedings relating to the contract or its breach to occur in the United States, the United Kingdom, France, or Singapore. If the parties agree to submit their dispute to arbitration, the procedural rules applicable are those rules agreed by the parties, or the rules of internationally recognized institutions or the rules of the seat of arbitration.
“This requirement means that the laws of a state or other jurisdiction within the United States must govern questions of contract law between the parties relating to the contract, including interpretation, contractual performance obligations, breach, contractual remedies, payment obligations, termination, validity, assignment or novation, and enforceability of the contract.”
“The requirement permits the inclusion of contract terms that recognize that certain aspects of the underlying activity in Venezuela may be subject to applicable Venezuelan law and regulations, including laws and regulations governing the exercise of Venezuela’s sovereign regulatory authority, administrative permits and licenses, concessions, labor, environmental, health and safety, and other mandatory regulatory requirements.”
The comments below seek to identify some of the challenging dispute resolution issues that may be confronting decision-makers at energy and mining companies as they consider whether to embrace the opportunity OFAC’s new General Licenses offer to resume activity in Venezuela (putting aside questions that arise in the setting of any international contract about choices of arbitral seat, rules of arbitration, and the litigation v. arbitration decision itself).
As we think about what contractual terms US and foreign energy and mining firms might consider satisfactory for arbitration seated (logically but not necessarily) in the United States with regard to a contract that must be governed by the contract law of a US jurisdiction, several potential issues come to mind. Mainly these issues arise from the possibility that (1) for an indefinite period, US policy toward Venezuela will prevent rather than facilitate elections that could result in a leadership change, and (2) the US executive branch will take aggressive steps, through sanctions policies and military threats or actions, to configure Venezuelan domestic law in regard to the energy and mining sectors – especially as it impacts contract terms for new foreign investment.
1) Civil unrest resulting from perpetuation of the “interim” post-Maduro regime is a foreseeable contract risk. Future arbitral tribunals might be called upon to adjudicate disputes over impacts of such unrest on contract performance. That prospect in turn presumably affects how potential US and other foreign energy and mining sector investors frame new contracts. And that prospect may test the US approach that assumes rejuvenation of the energy and mining sectors can be meaningfully launched while the “interim” post-Maduro regime remains in power.
2) The US role in the drafting and implementation of Venezuela’s 2026 Hydrocarbons Law and its implementing regulations is an open question of potentially disputed fact. A successor government in Venezuela might in (perhaps) the most extreme challenge raise a claim that the 2026 Hydrocarbons Law is a product of economic duress related to military threat and that contract terms agreed to based on that law may be repudiated. That claim might include a challenge to the validity of the arbitration (or judicial forum selection) clause. A less exorbitant challenge by a successor government could potentially be based on a post-transition modification of the 2026 Hydrocarbons Law in a way that requires invalidation or reformation of economic terms agreed by Venezuela and its relevant State-owned enterprises under the current post-Maduro regime. As these are concrete foreseeable risks, investors will seek to address them via contract terms that would survive a post-transition invalidation. Or perhaps some form of political risk insurance may be discussed (what role if any for the US International Development Finance Corporation?). Or some investors may ultimately conclude that political transition in Venezuela should precede significant new investment.
3) US actions in and in the vicinity of Venezuela in the run-up to the Maduro removal mission, and since that time, have hovered on the borderline of what international law might consider to be a belligerent occupation. Whether there was such an occupation for a brief period on the date of the Maduro mission now seems less important, from the perspective of new investment in Venezuela, that what may happen in the near-to-medium term. Assuming the presence of US troops during earthquake relief efforts is temporary and that those troops in due course return to bases outside Venezuela’s land borders, there remains a risk that the US executive branch will direct another invasion and establish a more enduring presence. That might be seen as the beginning of a new period of armed conflict or possibly as a continuation of a state of armed conflict that began with US naval assaults in Venezuela’s offshore waters in 2025.
Such a belligerent occupation would potentially align with a legal position of a post-transition Venezuelan government, if and when one emerges, taken for purposes of a dispute over contract validity or performance, that foreign investment contracts made under the current regime were a product of unlawful coercion by the US acting as agent for contractors of US (or US-aligned) nationality.
4) Under New York law – probably indicative of the law in other US jurisdictions whose law might permissibly be chosen under the OFAC licenses — a contract may be voided on the grounds of economic duress where the complaining party was compelled to agree to its terms by means of a wrongful threat which precluded the exercise of its free will. However, the mere existence of financial pressure and an unequal bargaining position are insufficient to constitute economic duress. (Southern Israel Bridging Fund Two, L.P. v. Orgenesis, Inc., 245 A.D.3d 578 (1st Dep’t Jan. 22, 2026). Could it be that a “wrongful” threat to Mr. Maduro’s incumbent successor has been or will be made at some relevant point in time? Surely there is at least a material risk that such a contention might be raised by a post-transition Venezuelan sovereign if that sovereign is unsatisfied with the terms of new contracts made under the current post-Maduro regime.
5) A complexity that is perhaps being pondered is whether US energy and mining companies that have operated or may operate in Venezuela through entities outside the US, that are domiciled in countries that have entered into bilateral investment treaties with Venezuela, are bound by the dispute resolution provisions in the June 2026 OFAC licenses. Exxon-Mobil and Conoco Phillips, for example, contracted with the State-owned Venezuelan oil and gas entity Petroleos de Venezuela, S.A. (“PDVSA”) through Dutch holding companies, and arbitrated under the now-defunct Netherlands-Venezuela BIT (Venezuela “denounced” the treaty in January 2008, and a 15 year extension under a survival clause has expired). Presumably consideration is being given to use of similar investment vehicles domiciled in countries that have BITs still in force with Venezuela, such as Canada and Switzerland. And presumably thought is being given to whether dispute resolution under a potential new contract with PDVSA, if contracted in the name of (say) a Swiss holding company, should be compliant with the dispute resolution requirements of the latest round of sanctions. One possible view of things is that the scope of US entities whose interactions with Venezuela are impacted is traceable to the initial 2015 Executive Order (No. 13692) that spawned the entire Venezuela Sanctions regime (31 CFR part 591). That Order prohibited any transactions regarding Venezuelan “property or interests in property” that would “come within the … control of any United States person….” It is at least plausible that OFAC would consider that, from a sanctions perspective, PDVSA property that might pass through accounts of a new Swiss holding company — formed by a US investor having in mind potential future recourse to dispute resolution under the Switzerland-Venezuela BIT — would come “within the control of” the US investor.
6) A further dispute resolution issue to be sorted out, one would suppose, is who shall be the Venezuelan contracting parties for purposes of any new contractual arrangements to be made with (directly or otherwise) US investors. From a future investment treaty arbitration vantage point, perhaps the Venezuelan State’s responsibility for the actions of PDVSA may be assumed. But not every potential contract dispute with PDVSA as a joint venture partner would necessarily be suitable for framing as a violation of a treaty right (protection against uncompensated expropriation, rights to fair and equitable treatment and full protection and security, etc.). Will the Venezuelan State accept to be a contracting party or a guarantor of PDVSA’s contractual performance and obligations? Even if the current post-Maduro government would make such undertakings, how would they be treated under US law if a dispute arises after the election of new Venezuelan leaders in an election whose outcomes are recognized as valid the United States? In this context, it is useful to have in mind that prior US court adjudications of alter ego relationships among the Venezuelan State and its State-owned enterprises in the energy and mining sectors would not be res judicata in an action between different parties and might not even be controlling precedent because they are to be decided on the particular facts and circumstances underlying the new dispute. In Crystallex International Corp. v. Bolivarian Republic of Venezuela, 333 F.Supp.2d 380, aff’d, 932 F.3d 126 (3d Cir. 2019), the District Court held that PDVSA was the alter ego of the Venezuelan State for purposes of execution upon a judgment obtained against the State (upon confirmation of an ICSID arbitration award), against assets nominally owned by PDVSA (shares in Delaware-domiciled CITGO). The same District Court reached the same conclusion in OI European Group B.V. v. Bolivarian Republic of Venezuela, 663 F. Supp. 3d 406 (D. Del.), aff’d, 73 F.4th 157 (2023), cert. denied, 144 S.Ct. 549 (2024). But in the latter case, the factual findings pertained to the period after Venezuela’s 2018 national elections, when the United States recognized the apparent winner of that election, Mr. Guaidó, as the duly-elected leader of the Venezuelan government even though Mr. Maduro did not accept those election results and remained in power. (Notably, for purposes of any future change in the array of Venezuelan leaders recognized as the Venezuelan Government by the United States, the Court held that “[t]he Guaidó Government’s acts are the pertinent acts for the alter ego analysis because the Guaidó Government is recognized by the United States as the legitimate government of Venezuela,” but added that the interactions of the Maduro Regime with PDVSA in Venezuela nevertheless could have “some relevance.” 663. F.Supp.3d at 432.). And in G&A Strategic Investments I LLC v. Petroleos de Venezuela, S.A., 788 F.Supp.3d 616 (S.D.N.Y. 2025), appeal filed sub nom. Amber Energy, Inc. v. Petroleos de Venezuela, S.A., No. 25-1789 (2d Cir. July 23, 2025), a District Court in New York City — giving emphasis to the principles that whether the presumption of separateness of a foreign sovereign and its affiliates has been rebutted should be addressed (i) “‘on a case by case basis'”), and (ii) “consider[ing] all relevant facts and historical events up to the present litigation” — held that CITGO had not been shown to be the alter ego of PDVSA.
The foregoing observations are meant only to give an indication of the complexity potentially involved in a US investor’s approach to the issue of dispute resolution strategy as a dimension of risk management in considering substantial new investment in and business collaboration with the Venezuelan State. This scenario suggests that the issue raised in the earlier May 2026 post on this site — whether the US vision of revival of Venezuela’s natural resources industries can effectively proceed while the existing post-Maduro Regime remain in control – continues to be a matter of considerable sensitivity and uncertainty.
