By Luis Manuel Aguana
I will begin by apologizing in advance for “self-citing.” And it is not as if I haven’t done so before. I have accustomed my readers to concatenations of reflections or arguments previously made on my blog—citing passages from earlier articles. But on this occasion, the “self-citation” is special because it relates to one of the foundational pillars of my doctoral thesis: data protection and the privacy of personal information.
“Historically—prior to the advent of automated systems for handling big data—national statistical authorities served as the custodians of individuals' data, for the obvious purposes of planning. However, this was not always the sole application of such data. Statistical information regarding citizens of the Netherlands was so highly detailed prior to the German occupation that it enabled the Nazis to register the Jewish and Roma populations for deportation to extermination camps ((1) Seltzer & Anderson, 2001, p. 486). The highest rates of extermination among "vulnerable groups" were recorded in those places where citizen data had been most meticulously cataloged.”.
“In light of the grave history of brutal human rights violations and abuses outlined above, the importance of preserving and regulating citizens' data becomes expressly evident; for, as global history itself demonstrates—regardless of whether or not automated data-processing systems were employed—the misuse of such data can lead to mass human rights violations. A case in point is Rwanda, where statistical reports, monthly lists of births, deaths, and marriages, and annual population rosters—all classified by ethnicity—were processed, thereby facilitating extermination operations ((2) Seltzer and Anderson, 2001, p. 493). This potential for misuse significantly exacerbates the problem, having a direct impact on the development of nations.” (see in Spanish, Luis Manuel Aguana, Doctoral Thesis: The Use of Information and Communication Technologies (ICT) for Political Control and the Limitation of the Right to Privacy: Development of Indicators for Its Measurement and Its Application in Latin America, p. 166, in https://tinyurl.com/mkwvan4m)
Why do I refer back to the bloody past of extermination in Europe? Because people forget the reason why the concept of personal data protection emerged globally—and especially in those countries that experienced the horror of persecution firsthand. That is why stringent data protection regulations came into being—particularly on the Old Continent—regulations that are still not fully understood in our own countries, including the United States, despite our having lived through traumatic episodes in Venezuela such as the Tascón and Maisanta lists.
When I heard the explanations regarding the population registry—covering citizens both within and outside the country—that is currently being carried out by the Vente party and its electoral coordinator, Architect Humberto Villalobos, on behalf of María Corina Machado (MCM), they struck me as well-intentioned and technically viable, even if, in my judgment, they are misguided (see in Spanish, Programa Venezuela Late – Entrevista a Humberto Villalobos, in https://youtu.be/vVCIn0Nkgr4).
And why do I assert the foregoing? Let us examine a few key passages from Architect Villalobos’s conversation on the aforementioned program, commenting on each section as we go:
“…our legislation incorporates the concept of ‘groups of voters,’ yet the reality is that practically no political party is currently validated. Consequently, it is almost like starting over; however, as it turns out, we are in the process of establishing an identity verification system for all Venezuelans—one that will require many of us to either go in person or proceed digitally to register our signatures, facial images, and fingerprints.”” (emphasis ours).
The responsibility for citizen identification does not fall to a private individual or entity. Given that the State body responsible for this task is the National Electoral Council (CNE)—a branch of government currently suffering from a crisis of legitimacy and held in the hands of electoral criminals—the solution cannot be for a private party to undertake or "spearhead" this work, no matter how noble the cause or sincere the intentions they may demonstrate. It is simply not their prerogative.
Vente Venezuela—led by Architect Villalobos—has taken upon itself a task—that of national and international citizen identification—that can only be carried out by the Venezuelan State, utilizing the full scope of resources that such an undertaking demands. Admittedly, the process of identifying Venezuelan citizens carried out within Venezuela to date has been completely perverted, featuring distorted data records manipulated to serve the political interests of the regime. Nevertheless, no private individual or entity may unilaterally assume this task in place of the State. Doing so would be akin to taking up arms—as Colombia’s "self-defense" groups did—simply because the State proved incapable of protecting landowners from guerrilla forces.
The proper course of action is to first liberate the State from the clutches of its captors (whose identities are known to all), thereby enabling a legitimate government—vested with full constitutional authority—to accurately locate and identify Venezuelan citizens wherever they may reside. This is essential not only for holding elections based on a clean Electoral Registry, but also for every other application in which the State requires access to citizen data—specifically, through a National Registry of Documented Venezuelans that has been completely purged of all the detritus injected into it by the regime during its nearly 30 years in power. In other words, this entails securing the data necessary for fundamental sectors such as healthcare, housing, public safety, elections, and so forth. For this reason, once Venezuela has been liberated from these barbarians, it will be imperative to conduct a new National Census of Population and Housing—backed by full procedural guarantees—to place the SAIME under administrative intervention, and to completely reconstruct the Electoral Registry.
The technical plan presented by Architect Villalobos appears perfectly valid to the Electoral Registry; however, what would be expected of a group aspiring to power—such as Vente Venezuela—is that, upon subsequently assuming office, they proceed to draft the technical specifications for a Request for Proposal (RFP) to rebuild the Electoral Registry—precisely as is required to conduct fair, free, and verifiable elections—and then subject that RFP to an International Public Tender (IPT). Alternatively, they might opt not to do so if they decide that the necessary changes can be implemented using their own technical resources, while still adhering to those same requirements.
“On the day we collect that data, we will take the opportunity to allow every Venezuelan—across all our organizational levels: municipal, state, and national—to additionally declare which political party or group of voters they wish to support. However, only those entities that meet the minimum conditions established in the regulations governing this election will be accepted. So, we will get that resolved. What are we doing to ensure that the remaining issues can also be resolved? We are attempting to expedite various processes. We are making the most of these four months—not only to advance the voter registration process but also to provide technological solutions that will facilitate the work of the new National Electoral Council (CNE). We are not claiming that we ourselves will be the ones to carry out that specific task—for it would be utterly absurd for a single political party to be the one to do so.”.
It is important that Architect Villalobos acknowledge that this work toward a “new CNE” is not the task of a political party. The problem is that, even now, work is being undertaken that does not fall within the purview of a private entity. In this regard, I refer specifically to the collection of data by an entity that does not yet hold governmental power—and the risks citizens face should that data fall into criminal hands.
Regardless of whether we believe—and I, for one, seriously do—that the individuals engaged in this work are honorable, there is absolutely no guarantee that this data will not be compromised by external forces, or that the regime—given the limitless financial resources at its disposal—might not obtain it by corrupting key individuals. All this is without even considering that anyone could cast doubt upon the process; indeed, the very accusation leveled against the regime—that it distorts data—could now be leveled against those currently collecting it, given their status as interested parties. There is no neutral third party or guarantor standing between them to provide credible assurance that such a scenario is not unfolding. This is precisely why, globally, there exist strict limitations regarding the extent to which private and public entities may store personal information—particularly data concerning individuals' political preferences or other sensitive matters.
The European Union's General Data Protection Regulation (GDPR) is categorical in this regard in its Article 9: “Processing of special categories of personal data”: “1. Processing of personal data revealing racial or ethnic origin, political opinions, religious or philosophical beliefs, or trade union membership, and the processing of genetic data, biometric data for the purpose of uniquely identifying a natural person, data concerning health or data concerning a natural person’s sex life or sexual orientation shall be prohibited.” (see EU’s GDPR, in https://tinyurl.com/v26kxjvw).
The failed state in which we currently find ourselves suggests that the warning history has offered us—drawing upon the examples of the Netherlands or Rwanda, as noted at the outset—cannot be dismissed in these times. We have yet to emerge from the barbarism of the Castro-Chavista-Madurista regime that has misgoverned us for nearly thirty years. A loss of data—such as the information currently being collected through this census—would carry grave implications, which I do not even wish to address in this piece. In Venezuela, data protection laws do not exist—and respect for the Constitution is even scarcer.
“Okay, point number one: there is no way this could be a "Tascón List," because it is directed at all Venezuelans. In other words, it isn't aimed solely at the "blues"—it is aimed at the blues, the reds, and every single Venezuelan. It targets 31.6 million national ID numbers, all of which have already been identified. The advantage of this registration drive is that it launched using an existing database as its starting point. So, the way it works is this: if you are not already in that database, we do not take your information into account for this process. Okay? The second piece of information we are requesting is location—specifically, more precise location data. Furthermore, if an individual is deceased, we are providing their family members with the opportunity to inform us of that fact. And the final data point consists of your biographic details, which allow us to assign a score to each individual record we create. We might receive as many as ten separate records for the same person; this scoring system enables us to determine which record contains the most accurate and complete information, and that is the one we ultimately use. Fundamentally, the data we are currently collecting will serve to generate a study that will allow us to update the official registry. While this data does not, in itself, constitute the actual modification of the registry, it will certainly enable us to prepare for everything that process entails.”.
What Architect Villalobos is indicating to us is that they are already in possession of an Electoral Registry comprising 31.6 million people, which they are currently scrubbing. They are attempting to establish previously unknown data—such as a person's current location and genealogical details—while asserting that this operation is broad in scope and devoid of any political bias. However, the potential uses to which this information might be put depend entirely on who holds it. And if the entity in possession of this data decides to target a specific individual and their family, they would then be able to trace their entire family lineage.
Currently, there are 9 million Venezuelan exiles whose whereabouts remain unknown because the national registry of citizens is in shambles. Paradoxically, however, this situation serves as a form of protection for the people within the context of an authoritarian regime—one that has demonstrated a far-reaching capacity to apprehend individuals even beyond its own borders. Even within Venezuelan territory itself, it is impossible to ascertain people's locations, as there have been undetected internal migrations; no national census has been conducted in just over 15 years. At this moment, no one can determine whether a survey sample is truly representative of the population, given that the population has shifted its location significantly over that entire period. No one knows with any precision the exact number of people residing in any given locality within the country. This is a nation that has lacked any form of statistical data for over a decade. Imagine the gravity of this situation.
Any dataset containing citizens' updated addresses, political affiliations, and genealogical connections would constitute a weapon of incalculable value for a regime that routinely persecutes, imprisons, tortures, and forcibly disappears individuals. A regime of the nature currently in power would undoubtedly wait for the scrubbing of this registry to reach an advanced stage, at which point it would seek to seize control of it—for it possesses the resources to do so. And, unwittingly, we are doing them the favor of advancing this very task—aided by the efforts of Venezuelans who are, ironically, full of good intentions.
“So, all those questions are precisely what will be resolved through this registration process. It is a study. It is a massive survey—gigantic—because it is conducted one-on-one. And I have learned over time that one-on-one surveys are like counting sticks. When you count sticks, there is no room for dispute. That is to say: I have this many red ones, this many blue ones, this many green ones. It is not a statistical poll. And that is one of the key mechanisms that will empower us to make demands. When we engage in discussions with the United States government—or with the current Venezuelan regime—regarding how the necessary reforms should be implemented, or how the election should be conducted, we will possess a definitive tally—a "stick count"—that will allow us to assert, with absolute conviction, exactly what must be done to ensure peace of mind for the people.”.
It is clear that a voter registration drive is not a statistical survey; yet, it appears to be utilized as such, for—as Architect Villalobos points out—it would facilitate discussions with the U.S. government and the Venezuelan regime regarding the modalities of the election. However, there is one detail that they seem not to have grasped, even after more than a dozen rounds of past negotiations with those currently holding power: the regime does not negotiate terms with the opposition—it imposes them. It did precisely this in the lead-up to July 28, 2024, when it compelled MCM to appear before its Supreme Tribunal of Justice to seek the lifting of her political ban—an act of mockery directed at both her and the Venezuelan people—and subsequently refused to even register the candidacy of the individual she had personally selected to run in those elections.
If their true objective at this juncture is to gather information for the purpose of negotiating with any party whatsoever, they should transform this registration drive into an anonymous survey designed to locate Venezuelans across the globe. This would enable them to determine, with a reasonable degree of certainty, the necessary placement of polling stations in those countries hosting the largest Venezuelan populations. However, persisting down the path of updating the voter registry—without acting as an official organ of the Venezuelan State—places in jeopardy both those who have fled Venezuela and those who still remain within the country.
Aside from the points already discussed, the remainder of Architect Villalobos’s interview—in which he advocates for manual elections and voting transparency—aligns with the ruling issued by the Legitimate Supreme Court of Justice in Exile on June 13, 2018; a ruling which, regrettably, I have not heard Architect Villalobos cite in his public statements. Regardless of whether political organizations and their leaderships acknowledge the work of civil society, I commend MCM—as the country’s leading opposition figure—and her party for recognizing the need for a change in the electoral system and for currently working to comply with that ruling. That decision, summarized in six points, outlines precisely what has needed to be done regarding the Venezuelan electoral system for nearly eight years now:
FIRST: It declared the
automated voting and vote-counting system null and void—and therefore
inapplicable—for all elections involving offices of popular representation.
SECOND: It declared the
Electoral Registry to be inconsistent and ordered the CNE to purge and update
it—with the mandatory participation of universities, political parties, and the
academic community—prior to the commencement of any new electoral process.
THIRD: It ordered the CNE
to design and implement a voting system that is fundamentally manual in nature,
wherein technology serves an auxiliary—rather than a central—role, thereby
fostering transparency and public trust.
FOURTH: It urged the
National Assembly to appoint new CNE Rectors who are independent, impartial,
and unaffiliated with any political organizations.
FIFTH: It ordered the
Public Prosecutor’s Office to initiate criminal investigations against CNE
Rectors and officials, as well as into the crimes committed in connection with
the contracts awarded to Smartmatic and Bitza.
SIXTH: It referred a copy
of the ruling to the Constitutional Chamber for a constitutional review of
those articles within the Organic Law on Electoral Processes that mandated the
use of automated systems.
(see in Spanish, Electoral Judgment, File No. SE-2018-001, of the Electoral Chamber of the Legitimate Supreme Tribunal of Justice in Exile, dated June 13, 2018, in http://ticsddhh.blogspot.com/2018/06/tribunal-supremo-de-justicia-declara.html).
My apologies in advance for the length of this note, but I felt it necessary to warn those who, unwittingly, may be falling into a trap. Unexpectedly—or so I hope—may the political protagonists of this new electoral phase in the country take this long history into account for the benefit and protection of Venezuelans, and never again agree, for political reasons, to participate in elections utilizing the regime’s automated electoral system. I truly hope I am not mistaken in that aspiration…
Caracas, May 11, 2026
Blog: TIC’s & Derechos Humanos, https://ticsddhh.blogspot.com/
Email: luismanuel.aguana@gmail.com
Twitter:@laguana
(1)(2)
Seltzer, William y Anderson, Margo (2001). The Dark Side of Numbers: The Role
of Population Data Systems in Human Rights Abuse. Social Research, Vol. 68, No.2 (Summer 2001).
Ver referencia en https://tinyurl.com/y9fzdpcr
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