Venezuelans Dig Through Ruins Bare-Handed as Idle Government Excavators Sit Without Fuel
LA GUAIRA, Venezuela — The smell of decay hangs thick in the humid air along this battered coastline, where piles of concrete and twisted rebar mark the graves of collapsed apartment buildings. Among the debris, residents dig with pickaxes, shovels, and their bare hands, hoping to find loved ones still alive.
But a few feet away, a government excavator sits motionless. When asked why, the operator gave a simple answer: no fuel. For a country that sits atop the world's largest proven oil reserves, the irony is as painful as the tragedy itself.
Two major earthquakes struck last week, leveling much of La Guaira and leaving thousands dead. The official death toll climbed to at least 2,295 on Wednesday, according to National Assembly President Jorge Rodríguez, but the U.S. Geological Survey warns the true number could be in the tens of thousands. The United Nations is procuring 10,000 body bags in anticipation.
The crisis has laid bare the deep rot in Venezuela's state institutions. Political analyst Carmen Beatriz Fernández told CNN that the government's failure to provide basic rescue resources reflects a broader systemic collapse: “You dismantled a state's capacity to provide basic needs.”
Further stoking public anger, four officials from the Scientific, Penal and Criminal Investigations Corps were arrested for allegedly looting valuables from the rubble. “The institution reaffirms to the nation that it will not tolerate, under any circumstances, police misconduct,” the agency said in a statement.
Opposition leader María Corina Machado, who has been living in exile in the United States, said the disaster has spurred her to return. “Venezuelans need to be together,” she told Fox News.
The government has defended its response despite the “initial chaos.” Interior Minister Diosdado Cabello called on citizens to organize in communes and report the missing. But on the ground in La Guaira, those words ring hollow. Volunteers have no drills, no sensors, no heavy machinery.
Hassel Mendoza, an engineer who flew from Tampa to search for her mother, sister, brother-in-law, and nephew, described the ordeal: “We lost a lot of time trying to figure out new tools to use.” She sleeps on the ground near the ruins of their nine-story building. A civil defense team from neighboring Aragua arrived without any equipment.
Yet amid the despair, there have been stories of survival beyond the typical three-day “golden window.” Jack Thorpe, an American volunteer with Resource Rescue International, said his team is still finding people alive. “I’m not ready to give up yet.”
About 2,000 U.S. service members are assisting with search-and-rescue operations, according to Gen. Francis Donovan of U.S. Southern Command. U.S. Charge d’affaires John Barrett said efforts remain “100% focused on the search-and-rescue mission.”
For Deivis Ramos, whose two daughters—Darling Antonella, 7, and Dulce María, 2—were trapped with their grandparents in a collapsed building, the grief is raw but controlled. “I can’t think about crying, because tears won’t move a single stone,” he said, still digging 24 hours a day. “We just ask for the strength to reach them and give them a proper rest.”
In a country rich with oil but poor in fuel, where the government once boasted of its capacity to respond, the sight of idle excavators next to grieving families digging with their hands may become the defining image of this disaster.