Venezuelan Authorities Hinder Press Coverage Amidst Earthquake Aftermath

Outside a Caracas morgue Venezuelan police officers surrounded us, yelling and pointing towards our camera.

Within seconds, four more officers were there.

With an urgent tone that I knew to pay immediate attention to, our local producer Juan, whose name has been changed for his safety, said to me: "Call your embassy right now."

To hear that, as a reporter in a place of political instability and authoritarian rule, I knew our situation had changed.

One of the men surrounding us was dressed in plain clothes but identified himself as a member of SEBIN, the state intelligence agency.

He ordered one of the other officers to call the country's military counterintelligence agency to have us detained and interrogated.

We were able to defuse the situation and leave, but suspicions had been raised.

A week after a rupture along the Caribbean and South American tectonic plates unleashed one of the most catastrophic disasters to hit Venezuela, the underbelly of the ruling regime has come into view.

With its biggest cities covered in rubble and ruins, and an emerging humanitarian crisis for the people living among them, the government of Venezuela is under pressure to provide.

But instead of focusing all its efforts on coordinating a widescale rescue operation, the government has been accused of hindering the response, and as became apparent, our ability to cover it.

A crisis impeded by government

International press has been welcomed into Venezuela to cover this tragedy, something that is extremely rare for a country that has been under an authoritarian government for years.

And up until the police officers arrived, we had free range to move as we pleased.

Even with reports of press being banned from the worst-affected regions, we travelled to those cities with no problems or questions asked.

Instead, the people there welcomed us in. Venezuelans have been so grateful the world is paying attention, and they want people to know what's really happening on the ground.

Because, they say, life right now is very different to what the government is claiming. I have reported on the anger and frustration locals are overwhelmed with right now.

They told me there has been a slow and uncoordinated response from authorities who have hindered search efforts.

"I have seen officers in structures looking [for] what's left [in] apartments," said Marcos Sousa, a father searching for his son at the wreckage of an apartment complex.

"They have showed up here, police forces threatening that they want to put us in jail because we don't follow the protocols for rescue."

Another woman at this site approached me and gave me her phone with a message on Google Translate.

She was pleading for heavy machinery because the community has been left to fend for itself without any government assistance.

Instead, another man told me, officers came by and took some of their food supplies and search and rescue materials and then drove off.

Corruption is rife within Venezuela and it means individuals can act with impunity.

Reports have emerged of national guards demanding payment from people trying to remove the bodies of loved ones from the rubble.

Some international aid workers have been blocked from entering parts of devastated communities too.

An emergency response team from Germany was reportedly denied entry. So too was a team from Spain. And a Chilean group that made it into the country to help rescue efforts reported being interrupted by Venezuelan authorities on suspicion they were spies.

While their people use gardening tools and sometimes just their hands to recover loved ones trapped in buildings, some in government agencies have other priorities.

They are indulging the perception these aid groups are bringing security threats into a region already on its knees.

And it provides a small window into the environment Venezuelans live under every day.

Years of backsliding

In January, then-president Nicolás Maduro and his wife were abducted in a military operation from inside a presidential compound and taken to the United States to face charges, including some relating to narco-terrorism.

His presidential victories in 2018 and again in 2024 were internationally disputed with evidence of electoral manipulation and a lack of democratic process.

Maduro oversaw a country with some of the largest oil deposits in the world and yet for a decade has been in an economic depression. US sanctions, hyperinflation and corruption are all contributing factors.

But since his capture, the country has been gradually opening up under its new-found forced friendship with the US.

The day we were stopped by security officers was also the day Acting President Delcy Rodríguez invited international media to a rare press conference.

It was a strange duality and perhaps evidence of a culture that is more used to cracking down on the press than opening up to it.

Our close encounter with the DGCIM, or the General Directorate of Military Counterintelligence, is a reminder of how much scope and power this body has.

The DGCIM is colloquially known as the torture police in Venezuela, and it is the group that has enforced crackdowns on the press.

"This armed group is well known for having torture houses and torture compounds," said our local producer Juan.

"They have a long reach and they have a green light to do whatever they want to their prisoners.

"They are responsible for disappearing politicians, opposition leaders and all sorts of people causing trouble to them."

Both the SEBIN and DGCIM have extensive records of human rights violations.

United Nations investigations have uncovered the two intelligence agencies routinely engage in brutal methods of inflicting harm on detainees, forced confessions, arbitrary detainment and intimidation tactics.

A 2022 UN report found the two agencies carried out "extremely grave acts of torture amounting to crimes against humanity" to suppress opposition to the government.

When we encountered the SEBIN officer, we were filming near a morgue in Caracas. He demanded to see our visas and the others around him photographed them.

They made us go through and show them the footage we had taken and delete several clips. We had some exterior shots of the building, pictures of support tents and people waiting around.

Our Venezuelan producer calmly explained why we were there and that we were in the country legally and abiding by its laws.

With a handshake, the situation appeared to de-escalate. The DGCIM were not called while we were present, and we were allowed to leave.

We walked to the car and when the doors shut, Juan looked to me and said: "I cannot guarantee your safety; I think you should consider leaving the country as soon as possible."

This was just one very small example of the regime at work. Signs of how destructive it can really be are everywhere.

Venezuela's healthcare system was already in a state of collapse due to corruption, government mismanagement and an economy in freefall.

The earthquakes damaged or destroyed at least 38 hospitals worsening the crisis.

Critical infrastructure has been falling apart for years and doctors have told the ABC they are running dangerously low on medical supplies and operating equipment.

In the past decade, close to 8 million Venezuelans have fled the country in search of a better life including thousands of political activists and opponents who feared for their safety.

Amnesty International says there are at least 485 political prisoners across Venezuela despite the supposed implementation of an amnesty law in February.

Human Rights Watch says inside those prisons there is a lack of access to clean water, nutritious food and armed gangs effectively control detainees.

Among all of this, ordinary Venezuelans search for the tens of thousands now missing, assumed dead.

Leaving a country in turmoil

The three of us had just been through a shakedown. And it wasn't a situation where officers were pushing for money; it seemed we had angered the wrong people by accident.

I had seen reports that morning of local Venezuelans who had been translating and helping foreign press being targeted by parts of the government.

And local press have been threatened with arrest for covering the lack of heavy machinery and coordinated effort from authorities.

Again, this misses the point. It is an unnecessary distraction and a waste of resources.

More than 40,000 people are still missing more than a week on from this tragedy.

Many locals are in disbelief over government restrictions that caused delays and confusion during the most crucial hours after the disaster.

One person in La Guaira pointed towards the national guard milling around later and asked me: "Why do they carry guns instead of shovels?"

Ms Rodríguez angrily rejected criticism of her government's response and said it "activated immediately".

She accused media outlets of spreading misinformation and politicising a humanitarian tragedy.

"The Venezuelan government and its authorities have spared no effort, public, private, national or international," Ms Rodríguez said.

The UN said more than 2,200 rescuers from 27 different countries were assisting in the current search and recovery efforts, but a crisis of this scale will require years-long support and economic assistance to recover from.

It has caused a housing catastrophe. Thousands are homeless and many of the buildings that are still standing are unsafe to live in.

For us, we can leave, and we have safe homes to return to.

For those left behind, they now must endure the unfolding humanitarian crisis and devastating search for loved ones.

Endemic government corruption and decades of neglect have made these tragic circumstances devastatingly difficult.