海角大神

Rosa Albina Garc铆a still remembers the first time she saw Venezuela鈥檚 former President Hugo Ch谩vez. It was in her low-income neighborhood high in the hills of Caracas, where as a presidential candidate he was greeting store owners and neighbors on the street.

鈥淣o other president had ever come this high,鈥� she says of the man whose work she credits with changing the course of her life.

Ms. Garc铆a learned to read and write through Ch谩vez-era social programs known as misiones, aimed at bringing education, food, and housing to Venezuelans long excluded from the oil-rich nation鈥檚 wealth. She later secured her first formal job.

For her daughter, Neudin Barreto, those programs created the kinds of opportunities her mother never had. Growing up in the same hillside neighborhood, she attended a public university and became an active participant in the civic life promoted by Chavismo, as Mr. Ch谩vez鈥檚 political movement came to be known.

But alongside offering social services, Chavismo聽chipped away at democratic institutions, and today, the mother-daughter duo have starkly different views on the future of the political movement. While Ms. Barreto believes post-Ch谩vez leaders 鈥渄istorted鈥澛燙havismo, her mother is still devoted. 鈥淚 will be loyal ... until the day I die,鈥� Ms. Garc铆a says.

Venezuela is entering a new phase following the U.S.鈥檚 removal of President Nicol谩s Maduro and the appointment of interim President Delcy Rodr铆guez in January. And it is forcing a reckoning within the socialist movement that has dominated the country for almost three decades. Once defined by promises of inclusion,聽Chavismo聽is now riven by internal divisions and a growing disconnect between its anti-imperialist rhetoric and its actions, including close cooperation with former adversaries like the United States.

This moment 鈥渕ay well mark the end of聽Chavismo聽as a political project,鈥� says Edgardo Lander, a sociologist and professor emeritus of the Central University of Venezuela. 鈥淭he gap between what it says and what it does has become impossible to sustain.鈥�

Rodolfo Benitez/AP/File

On Feb. 2, 1999, newly sworn-in President Hugo Ch谩vez greeted supporters during a parade through the streets of downtown Caracas, Venezuela.

鈥淏uying time鈥� 鈥� not surrendering

Projects like the misiones and selling oil to like-minded regional neighbors on preferential terms became increasingly unsustainable over the course of Mr. Ch谩vez鈥檚 14 years in office. His government also became more anti-democratic, eroding checks and balances by consolidating control over the Supreme Court, reshaping electoral institutions, and pressuring independent media outlets.

The democratic erosion that began under Mr. Ch谩vez was followed by a drop in the global price of oil after he died and Mr. Maduro took office. That contributed to the collapse of Venezuela鈥檚 economy. And close to one-third of the population fled the country starting in 2015, as Venezuela faced simultaneous economic, humanitarian, and human-rights crises.

Then, on Jan. 3 this year, U.S. forces captured Mr. Maduro in a military operation in Caracas, bringing him to New York to face drug trafficking charges in U.S. federal court. The U.S. tapped Ms. Rodr铆guez, a longtime chavista, to serve as acting president. Donald Trump has called her 鈥渢errific鈥� and said she鈥檚 鈥渄oing a great job.鈥� Under pressure from the U.S., her government has changed laws to lure American investors, and initiated direct talks with U.S. officials 鈥� policies that would have been politically unthinkable even six months ago.

Dr. Lander, the sociologist, says these overt changes signal it may be too late to salvage Chavismo. Behind closed doors, party leaders had in many ways already abandoned the movement.

Chavismo 鈥渨as dismantled long before the Americans arrived,鈥� he says, referring to elected officials鈥� focus on self-preservation and enriching themselves during the Maduro years.

Some of the movement鈥檚 most ideologically-committed supporters struggle to explain these shifts.

In a downtown Caracas office, brimming with leftist paraphernalia referencing Ch谩vez, Marx, and Lenin, sits Jorge Navas. He鈥檚 a member of the Resistance and Rebellion collective, one of many militant community networks that closely aligned with Mr. Ch谩vez and his political movement. For years, colectivos have been accused of operating as armed, pro-government enforcers, functioning with varying degrees of state support and protection.

Mr. Navas rejects the idea that recent changes under Ms. Rodr铆guez 鈥� including talks with the U.S. and sidelining chavista allies 鈥� signal the end of Chavismo. He calls Mr. Maduro the legitimate president and her moves 鈥渢actical efforts.鈥�

Tibisay Zea

Jorge Navas sits in his office at the colectivo Resistencia y Rebeli贸n headquarters in Caracas, Venezuela, where walls are lined with images of Hugo Ch谩vez, Sim贸n Bol铆var, Che Guevara, and Vladimir Lenin, alongside shelves of revolutionary literature.

鈥淲e are not surrendering,鈥� he says. 鈥淲e are being intelligent. We are buying time.鈥�

His collective runs workshops in Caracas, he says, teaching history, and promoting what he calls 鈥渃onsciousness.鈥�

鈥淲e are trying to explain to people what is really happening,鈥� Mr. Navas says. 鈥淗ow the Americans are coercing our country.鈥�

Can the revolution 鈥渆ndure鈥�?

Even some of the most recognizable symbols of the Ch谩vez era are changing. The famous 鈥渆yes of Ch谩vez,鈥� painted on walls and buildings across the country after his death, have in some places faded or been removed, as if to imply he鈥檚 no longer overseeing this revolution. The color red, long associated with Chavismo, is giving away to a more varied palette on public murals and propaganda. Ms. Rodr铆guez is wearing mostly blue.

Ms. Rodr铆guez has reshuffled her cabinet, sidelining figures tied to Mr. Maduro鈥檚 inner circle. She has consolidated power by elevating people from within her own network, Some of those who have been pushed aside are publicly sharing their doubts about the movement.

Mario Silva, an influential host of a television program that was recently removed from state TV, has accused Ms. Rodr铆guez of 鈥渂owing to U.S. tutelage鈥� and abandoning Ch谩vez鈥檚 anti-imperialist principles.

The contradictions are not lost on Ms. Barreto, either.

鈥淚 don鈥檛 go to communal assemblies anymore,鈥� she says of Ch谩vez-era community meetings that once gave residents a voice in neighborhood decision-making. They鈥檝e become mired in favoritism and power struggles for the past few years, she says, and now those who show up are looking 鈥渢o receive a bag of food,鈥� not build a more equitable future.

She once held a public sector job, but inflation rendered her salary nearly worthless. Now Ms. Barreto sells beauty products through a catalog, trying to make ends meet.

In her living room, a large framed image of a U.S. dollar hangs on the wall 鈥� an object that would have once clashed with the revolution鈥檚 anti-capitalist narrative. Today it represents her aspirations.

鈥淚 want this home to become prosperous,鈥� she says.

Tibisay Zea

Neudin Barreto in her living room in Caracas, Venezuela next to a framed image of a U.S. dollar, which she says represents prosperity.

Her mother, Ms. Garc铆a, can鈥檛 make that same break. 鈥淚 feel nostalgia for someone who truly cared,鈥� she says of supporting Chavismo.

At a communal assembly meeting in a low-income Caracas neighborhood on a recent afternoon, a small group of residents gather to talk about what comes next for the revolution.

Participation has been weakening. 鈥淭hese assemblies are not the same,鈥� says one attendee who asked not to be named for fear of political retribution. 鈥淧eople stopped coming a while ago.鈥�

He says he doesn鈥檛 want to share anything that might 鈥渉urt our movement.鈥� Still, he and others in attendance have questions.

鈥淚 would like to know if Maduro will come back,鈥� one resident says. 鈥淲hat the chances really are. Because if not 鈥� what are we going to do?鈥�

鈥淐alma, calma,鈥� another man replies. 鈥淭rump will pass. The revolution will endure.鈥�