CARACAS, Venezuela — The security landscape in Caracas has changed dramatically in recent years, with crime rates—once among the highest in the world—dropping sharply. The city, formerly known for rampant kidnappings and a homicide rate that earned it a notorious reputation, now presents a strikingly safer environment, confounding both residents and visitors.

Miguel Dao, a seasoned kidnapping negotiator who once worked on multiple cases within a single day, has not been called upon to negotiate a hostage situation in over three years. The decline in violent crime has been accompanied by a decrease in street robberies and “express” kidnappings, previously common criminal tactics in the capital.

“This is an accomplishment by any measure,” said Dao, who is a former director of Venezuela’s equivalent of the FBI. Nevertheless, he expressed uncertainty about the durability of the security gains.

The transformation stands out across Latin America, especially given the continued economic and social challenges facing Venezuela. Streets and public spaces in Caracas now see renewed activity well into the night, with walking tours and nightlife returning to areas once dominated by fear.

However, experts caution that the apparent reduction in crime comes at a significant human cost and through controversial means. Beginning around 2014, the government under Nicolás Maduro and now Delcy Rodríguez launched heavily militarized police operations, known as “Operations for the Liberation of the People,” targeting low-income neighborhoods that were strongholds for criminal gangs.

According to investigations by the United Nations, these operations involved thousands of extrajudicial killings, predominantly of young men, under the pretext of “resistance to authority.” At least 6,856 deaths were recorded between 2018 and 2019 during these raids, with security forces often manipulating crime scenes to justify their actions. Venezuela’s recent decision to withdraw from the International Criminal Court has raised concerns about accountability for these alleged abuses.

The government’s approach has not been publicized widely within Venezuela; officials rarely acknowledge the scale of violence behind the security improvements. Criminologist Luiz Izquiel linked the muted discussion to public unease over the state’s brutal methods, contrasting Venezuela’s silence with the more openly promoted tough-on-crime strategies of other regional leaders.

Other factors contributing to the decline in criminal activity include mass migration out of Venezuela amid its economic crisis, which reduced the pool of gang-affiliated individuals. Additionally, the informal use of the U.S. dollar and expanded electronic payment systems have reduced cash circulation, limiting the incentive for street-level crimes.

In the notorious Cota 905 district, long controlled by gangs, intensive raids culminated in the killing of gang leader Carlos Luis Revette, known as El Koki. While the area is now considered safer, many residents remember the heavy toll of the police operations, including the deaths of numerous innocent young men. Local vendors and tour guides speak of an uneasy peace, shaped by loss and ongoing concerns about state authority.

Human rights advocates and survivors’ families remain critical. Millanyela Fernández recounted witnessing the fatal shooting of her 23-year-old son during a police raid in 2021, underscoring the stark human cost behind Caracas’s transformation.

As Venezuela’s government claimed this year that the national homicide rate dropped to a low of three per 100,000 people by 2025, independent verification remains absent. The authorities have not released comprehensive crime data in years, and critics warn that ongoing repression stifles open discussion of the security policies and their consequences.

Looking ahead, some observers worry that reforms announced by the government, including plans to remove police checkpoints, could weaken the fragile control maintaining the current relative calm. For residents of Caracas, the hard-fought peace remains precarious, tempered by memories of violence and uncertainty about what the future holds.