The Nobel Peace Prize, one of the world’s most prestigious honors, has once again become a lightning rod for controversy following the announcement that Venezuelan opposition leader María Corina Machado is the 2025 laureate. The decision, revealed by the Norwegian Nobel Committee on October 11, 2025, has sparked fierce debate both within Venezuela and around the globe, exposing deep rifts over what the award should represent and who is worthy of its legacy.
The Nobel Committee described Machado as “a voice of courage seeking a peaceful transition from dictatorship to democracy,” praising her “tireless work promoting democratic rights for the people of Venezuela and for her struggle to achieve a just and peaceful transition from dictatorship to democracy,” according to France 24. At 58, Machado has spent years defying President Nicolás Maduro’s authoritarian rule, often at great personal risk. Barred from running in Venezuela’s 2024 presidential election, she unified a fractured opposition and backed Edmundo González, whom observers said won by a wide margin before the government declared Maduro victorious.
Yet the committee’s decision has been anything but universally celebrated. In Spain, former deputy prime minister Pablo Iglesias called the award “absurd,” likening it to “giving the Nobel to Hitler.” Left-wing parties such as Podemos labeled Machado a golpista, or coup supporter, arguing that honoring her undermines the Nobel’s original intent. Cuba’s President Miguel Díaz-Canel condemned the move as “shameful,” accusing the committee of “rewarding those who call for foreign interference.” Russian President Vladimir Putin joined the chorus, suggesting the prize has drifted from its purpose and become politicized, elevating figures who, in his view, do little to advance global peace or stability.
Critics have seized on Machado’s controversial political alliances and statements. They point to a 2018 letter she wrote to Israeli and Argentine leaders asking for help to “dismantle” Maduro’s government, her 2020 cooperation agreement with Israel’s Likud Party, and social media posts declaring, “those who defend Western values stand with Israel.” These gestures, to many, seem at odds with the impartiality and universality traditionally associated with the Peace Prize. The U.S.-based Council on American-Islamic Relations (CAIR) condemned the award, accusing Machado of supporting “anti-Muslim and pro-occupation politics.”
Further criticism has come from the World Socialist Web Site, which described the choice as “rewarding imperialist war and regime change,” citing her support for U.S. economic sanctions that, according to humanitarian reports, have worsened Venezuela’s social crisis. The outlet portrayed Machado as a representative of Venezuela’s economic elite, highlighting her calls to privatize the state oil company PDVSA and align more closely with U.S. policy. Historian Greg Grandin and other left-leaning commentators have argued that her advocacy of sanctions and external pressure amounts to “coercive diplomacy” that harms civilians and contradicts conflict-resolution principles.
Even in Norway, the prize’s home country, there has been discomfort. Lawmaker Bjørnar Moxnes described Machado’s links with Israel’s Likud Party as “deeply troubling for an award meant to represent global reconciliation.” Media outlets have echoed these concerns, with TRT World publishing a commentary titled “Machado’s Nobel win not so noble,” arguing that her political alliances and views on Israel erode the moral weight of the prize. The Hindustan Times and Economic Times also highlighted her connections to U.S. and European conservative blocs, noting that her support for sanctions contradicts the principle of peaceful resolution.
Adding fuel to the fire, the Nobel Institute confirmed it is investigating a suspected espionage leak after reports of abnormal betting surges in favor of Machado before the announcement. This has prompted questions about the transparency and integrity of the selection process, further complicating the public’s perception of the prize.
Machado, for her part, has responded to the honor with a mix of gratitude and defiance. In an interview with BBC Mundo, she dedicated the prize to U.S. President Donald Trump for his global efforts for peace, saying, “I was very glad to personally convey that appreciation, describing the conversation as deeply meaningful.” She also spoke by phone with Trump shortly after the announcement, expressing “how grateful the Venezuelan people are for what he’s doing, not only in the Americas, but around the world for peace, for freedom, for democracy.”
This public dedication marked a rare moment of convergence between a Latin American dissident and a U.S. leader often at odds with the international establishment. Machado praised Trump’s 20-point Gaza peace plan, which includes a ceasefire, humanitarian aid access, and the release of Israeli hostages alongside Palestinian prisoners. The plan has been hailed internationally as a significant diplomatic breakthrough since the collapse of earlier ceasefire efforts in March. During an appearance on Fox News, Machado stated that Trump “deserves” the award, “because not only has he been involved in resolving eight wars in just a few months, but his actions have been decisive in bringing Venezuela to the threshold of freedom.”
Her comments, however, have only deepened the controversy. Many argue that her strong endorsement of Israel’s military campaign in Gaza and close alignment with right-wing movements undermine her credibility as a peace figure. As the Eurasia Review put it in an editorial titled “The Nobel’s Moral Collapse,” “A laureate cannot preach peace while celebrating bombardments elsewhere.”
Inside Venezuela, the reaction has been predictably polarized. President Maduro, speaking at an event commemorating “Indigenous Resistance Day,” lashed out at Machado, calling her a “demonic witch” and claiming, “Ninety percent of the population rejects the demonic witch.” The government often refers to her as “la sayona,” a spirit from Venezuelan folklore, drawing a pointed parallel to her public image. Maduro has accused Machado of calling for a foreign invasion and supporting U.S. military maneuvers in Caribbean waters—long a sore point for the regime.
Despite the threats and a looming arrest order, Machado has continued to rally her supporters from underground. The Nobel Committee described her as maintaining “a spirit that has inspired millions.” She herself called the Nobel honor “like an injection of hope and strength” for Venezuelans, proof that “we are not alone—the democrats around the world share our struggle.”
Some analysts, like Ronald Krebs, have warned that the Nobel Prize “may embolden activists but also provoke harsher crackdowns from authoritarian regimes.” Venezuela specialist David Smilde noted that while Machado has shown courage, parts of her strategy “rely on non-democratic means,” including appeals for international pressure. Christopher Sabatini of Chatham House remarked that the prize puts Maduro “in a difficult position,” limiting his ability to repress opponents but questioning whether the honor will yield real political change. The Guardian observed that while the award could boost visibility for Venezuela’s democratic opposition, “symbolism alone does not produce peace.”
For Machado, the Nobel Peace Prize is both a recognition and a burden—a symbol of global legitimacy that may strengthen her platform at home, yet one that arrives amid fierce debate over what “peace” truly means in today’s fractured world. The backlash underscores broader concerns about the Nobel’s direction and the challenge of finding laureates who embody the moral universality the prize once claimed.
