Democrats are wrong about Maduro ouster. Just ask a Venezuelan. | Opinion

Eighteen years ago, Vicky answered my ad on Match.com. We sat across from each other at a café in Miami. When Vicky told me she grew up in Venezuela, I had trouble placing the country on the map in my mind.

I knew it was in South America, but that was the end of my knowledge about Venezuela. Vicky told me another gringa she had dated thought Venezuela was next to Turkey. They never dated again.

Vicky came to the United States in 1994, five years before Hugo Chavez took power. She came to gain finance experience, but planned to go back. Then she came out and didn’t feel safe as a lesbian in Venezuela. Then Chavez won a legitimate election. A few years later, he changed the constitution to keep himself in power. That’s when Vicky knew Venezuela was in trouble. 

In 2003, Vicky became a political activist. She served as president of the Venezuelan Chamber of Commerce and, from the United States, participated in a referendum to recall Chavez.

Over the years, opposition candidates won and were ignored. Demonstrators were captured and tortured.  

Slowly, Vicky watched her country go from a Latin American powerhouse to the poorest country in South America.

Now, there are days you can’t find chicken in the supermarket. Other days, there’s no milk.

Inflation fluctuates wildly, with large increases each year. Eight million people, nearly 25% of the population, have fled.

Venezuela's decline has been sad to watch

When I was last there, 14 years ago, after Vicky’s mother died, I experienced the perfect temperature of Caracas and the beauty of the Avila – the mountain that frames one side of the Caracas skyline.

Every Venezuelan I’ve met anywhere in the world has a painting of the Avila in their home or office, sometimes both. Caracas is beautiful, but soon I started to feel the oppression.

Walls with barbed wire surround public buildings and many family homes. Vicky warned me to keep my cell phone hidden in public.

When we drove, Vicky ran every red light she could. I didn’t understand until we witnessed a guy on a motorcycle snatch something from a man through an open car window.

If you’re Venezuelan, you know someone who was kidnapped by the police or criminals supported by the government.

A very close friend of ours spent two years in jail for “treason.” During one of the student-run protests against the oppressive regime, our nephew was beaten by the cops. 

Knee-jerk response doesn't fit this situation

While Vicky was celebrating the capture of President Nicolás Maduro over the weekend, I opened Facebook and saw two posts by two liberal friends railing against President Donald Trump. One poster said: “Say NO to Trump’s Illegal War against Venezuela.”

These are friends online but also in real life ‒ their political thoughts and opinions I have followed and respected for years. I realized I was in an odd position: My team was protesting while my family was celebrating.

I texted them privately. I said, “My whole Venezuelan family is celebrating. They’ve been under the rule of the worst of the worst dictators for 25 years and no one has cared.” 

Since Maduro's capture, several other friends have texted me some version of, “What’s Vicky's take on Venezuela? What's your take?” All of these friends had the grace to know what they didn’t know.

I wouldn’t know anything about Venezuela if I weren’t married to a Venezuelan. I don’t blame myself or anyone else who knows little about this country.

We can’t know everything. But that’s our problem. My problem, too.

I often take sides without knowing all the facts, or even some of the facts. I’m on the progressive side. I trust my people and I’m quick to pass along a meme if it feels right. What I’m learning right now is that feelings aren’t enough.

I texted back and forth with my two liberal friends about the legality of the mission. About the danger of regime change from without. About the validity of anything Trump says or does.

All of it feels wrong, because of course, I don’t like Trump and I don’t trust his motives. 

Vicky said she heard it like this: “If you’re drowning and someone throws you a life jacket, you’re not going to ask who threw it. You’re just going to grab it.”

I’m in no position to predict if what happened will work out for the people of Venezuela, or if the people will gain sovereignty over their country and establish a true democracy. All I know is, someone threw them a life jacket.

Andrea Askowitz has written for The New York Times, HuffPost, The Washington Post, Slate, Newsweek, CNN and other publications. She's a coproducer of the podcast "Writing Class Radio" and creator of a storytelling series, All Sides of the Story.