On May 11, at the International Court of Justice in The Hague, oral arguments concluded over the fate of Essequibo—a 62,000 square mile tropical rainforest, comprising roughly two-thirds of Guyana’s territory—and its attendant maritime claims. At stake is the ownership of the most commercially viable “sweet light” oil reserves in the world, the Stabroek Block, which is located just off the coast of Essequibo.
Guyana maintains that Essequibo is its own. Foreign Affairs Minister Hugh Hilton Todd encouraged the ICJ to uphold the 1899 Arbitral Award, which granted the territory to Great Britain. “[Essequibo] has been recognised to be an integral part of the country for more than 126 years, including the past 60 years since independence,” Todd told the court. “Guyana would no longer be Guyana without it.”
The Venezuelan delegation used the hearings primarily to reject the ICJ’s jurisdiction. In her first visit to Europe since assuming power, Acting President Delcy Rodríguez said it is “inevitable and indispensable” that Venezuela and Guyana reach a negotiated solution to the Essequibo dispute under the 1966 Geneva Agreement, which established a mechanism for bilateral talks between the two countries.
While these high-minded legal arguments are useful for leaders in the two countries to gin up patriotic feelings in a moment of historic uncertainty in the Caribbean, the battle is more complicated than it would seem. Indeed, the proceedings obscure the fact that a permanent resolution to the dispute is the last thing some of the key players in Guyana and Venezuela want. The shifting agenda of the Trump administration since removing President Nicolás Maduro from power, too, has complicated the issue.
Neverending Empire
Venezuela’s claim to Essequibo rests on borders established by Spain in 1777; Guyana traces its claim to the British Empire, which acquired the Dutch colonies of Berbice, Demerara, and Essequibo in 1814.
The United States first forced its way into this fray in 1895, when it invoked the Monroe Doctrine and demanded that Great Britain submit to arbitration with Venezuela. The resulting 1899 Paris Arbitral Award—decided by a tribunal of two Americans, two Brits, and one Russian, with no Venezuelans present—granted nearly 90 percent of the territory to Britain. Venezuela has long maintained that this ruling is illegitimate, a stance supported by a posthumous 1949 memorandum by U.S. lawyer Severo Mallet-Prevost, which alleged a backroom deal between the British and Russian judges.
By the mid-20th century, U.S. strategy in Essequibo shifted from boxing out European capital to containing communism. As Guyana moved toward independence in 1966, the border with Venezuela became a way for Washington to squeeze Georgetown. “The U.S. saw the Essequibo issue through the prism of the Cold War,” said Percy Hintzen, Professor Emeritus at UC Berkeley and author of Reproducing Domination: On the Caribbean Post-Colonial State. Back then, the U.S. was wary of Guyana’s People’s Progressive Party and its “anti-colonial and Anti-Western/American position.”
Ricardo Vaz notes that during this era, Washington and London “tolerated the Betancourt-Leoni governments in Venezuela reopening the case as a source of pressure on Guyana” to prevent a revolutionary government from taking hold in Georgetown. This era of tensions waned following the 1966 Geneva Agreement, which Venezuela cites today as the only valid framework for resolving the Essequibo dispute, while Guyana maintains that this agreement ultimately reaffirmed the 1899 Award.
Since 1966, the urgency of the Essequibo dispute has fluctuated–largely dictated by the economic and political mandates of the Venezuelan president.
Since 1966, the urgency of the Essequibo dispute has fluctuated–largely dictated by the economic and political mandates of the Venezuelan president. “Hugo Chavez intended to pursue cooperation and integration among Venezuelan, Guyanese, and Trinidadian energy resources via Petrocaribe,” explained Antulio Rosales, researcher in the politics of energy capital in Latin America and assistant professor at York University. During a state visit to Guyana in 2004, Chávez promised that Venezuela would not interfere with Guyanese development projects in Essequibo if they benefited the people, correctly identifying the dispute as a holdover from the colonial era—a major foreign policy pivot.
However, the discovery of massive offshore oil reserves by ExxonMobil in 2015, coupled with Venezuela’s economic collapse, ended the era of petro-diplomacy. Nicolás Maduro revived the dispute with a nationalist fervor that led to the 2023 referendum, which established Guyana Esequiba as Venezuela’s “24th state.” The issue remains a wellspring for nationalist mobilization that cuts across domestic political ideologies.
No Resolution in Sight
“It doesn’t look like the Essequibo dispute has a solution in sight,” notes Ricardo Vaz, Lead Editor at Venezuelanalysis. “The likely outcome from this ICJ process is that the court rules in favor of Guyana,” said Vaz. “That’s a scenario that the Venezuelan government is already prepared for since it does not accept the ICJ’s jurisdiction over the matter. So even if there is a ruling in favor of Guyana, Caracas can just reiterate that it finds the ruling irrelevant, continue to assert its claim and demand direct talks with Guyana.”
The push-pull dynamic between Caracas and Georgetown, which used to be straightforward for the U.S. State Department to navigate, now rests on a high-wire act of diplomacy—balancing the economic and political mandates of a Venezuelan President leading a compromised Bolivarian state with those of a Guyanese President elected on the promise of distributing oil wealth in the midst of a historic boom.
All probable outcomes are likely to improve the bargaining position of American energy capital vis a vis the rentier jurisdictions where they operate—in particular Chevron, which has invested in both Venezuela’s Orinoco Basin and Guyana’s Stabroek Block via its highly-contested acquisition of Hess in 2025.
According to Tamanisha John, a researcher in Caribbean development and assistant professor at York University, “The U.S. is concerned about energy supply and intends to limit China’s influence in the region to the benefit of American companies. Guyana and Venezuela are central to this strategy, but the U.S. will not permanently legitimize the government of either—viewing both as politically fickle.”
The Block and the Belt
The current political and economic landscape in Guyana and Venezuela is defined by divergent bets placed by ExxonMobil and Chevron in the mid-2000s. Exxon abandoned Venezuela following Chavez’s nationalization and pivoted to exploring Guyana’s deepwater reserves in 2008. When Exxon discovered the Stabroek Block in 2015, it permanently shifted the balance of power in the Caribbean.
“Recent investments in Guyanese waters were a major concern among Venezuelan elites for nationalist and economic reasons,” noted Rosales. Indeed, the current era of tensions between the two countries can be traced to this 2015 discovery; since reaching fever pitch following the 2023 referendum, tensions have continued, including a 2025 incident in which the Venezuelan Navy entered Guyanese waters and threatened Exxon’s floating oil infrastructure.
As opposed to Exxon, which struck big in Guyana after leaving Venezuela, Chevron decided to play the long game, enduring Venezuelan nationalization and American sanctions. It is currently the only major U.S. oil company with a footprint in Venezuela’s Orinoco Belt. This belt contains the largest proven oil reserves in the world, though it produces mostly “heavy sour” crude that is cost-intensive to refine. Because of its major investments in the country, Chevron has long tried to “lower the temperature between the U.S. and Venezuela” said Alexander Main, Director of International Policy at the Center for Economic and Policy Research.
The Trump administration wants to both facilitate Chevron’s “recovery” in Venezuela and protect Exxon’s “stability” in Guyana.
The friction between Exxon and Chevron has, in recent history, typically resolved in Exxon’s favor; Guyana has often appeared a more “stable” climate for investment compared to Venezuela. Nevertheless, as Main notes, this is less the product of “Venezuela’s socialist policies” than the “result of U.S. sanctions” on the country, which began in 2019. The same year, Guyana began exporting oil from the Stabroek Block.
The removal of Maduro from power has changed the equation. Now the Trump administration wants to both facilitate Chevron’s “recovery” in Venezuela and protect Exxon’s “stability” in Guyana. But, the lack of Guyanese infrastructure—the country relies upon U.S. refineries to process its oil—creates a logistical bottleneck that could invite further meddling. According to Tamanisha John, the Trump administration may seek to “grant U.S. corporations access to both Venezuelan and Guyanese oil,” which enable the use of the Stabroek Block’s sweet light crude as a premium diluent for the sour heavy crude from the Orinoco Belt—a dream scenario for Chevron.
The Art of the Deal
In an ideal world, the abundance and variety of Caribbean energy resources would lead to collaboration. Nevertheless, according to Miguel Tinker Salas, author of The Enduring Legacy: Oil, Culture and Society in Venezuela, “manipulation by the empire” has impeded this cooperation. To Hintzen, this is a huge missed opportunity for the planet. The creation of an “OPEC-like cartel” of Caribbean energy-producing countries could be “critical for the global shift toward sustainable development and renewable energy.”
“The potential for cooperation between Venezuela, Guyana, and Trinidad and Tobago is there,” noted Tinker Salas. “But manipulation by the empire impedes that from happening.”
The United States, long an impediment to clean energy alternatives in the region, has played a key role in this dispute, backing Guyana for the last few decades. But, under the so-called “Donroe Doctrine,” Trump has traded traditional diplomacy for a transactional style of negotiation; his persona as a “dealmaker” and preference for moving quickly suggest that he may quickly tire of energy capital’s strike against Venezuela.
Trump could use the Essequibo dispute as an opportunity to force Big Oil—hesitant to invest, much to Trump’s chagrin—back into Venezuela. According to Antulio Rosales, to do so, it could bypass the ICJ entirely and promote bilateral talks that “push Guyana and Venezuela into a form of cooperation.” While this would align with Venezuela’s demands, the creation of a “privatized form of Petrocaribe where the U.S. leads the charge,” hypothesized by Rosales, may be suitable to both parties.
The Borders of the “51st State”
Moral concerns aside, there are many political roadblocks to the U.S. potentially achieving a deal that revitalizes Venezuela’s infrastructure by incorporating Guyanese diluents. First and foremost, there is the role of Exxon, whose massive investments would be undermined by such an agreement. In addition, the role of the China National Offshore Oil Corporation, which owns a 25% stake in the Stabroek Block, could be crucial. One could envision a scenario where Trump threatens Chevron and Exxon with secondary sanctions until CNOOC is boxed out and forced to sell its stake to a Western-allied producer, a playbook that his administration has already deployed in the region.
Looming larger than everything, however, is Trump’s mercurial character; his erratic behavior makes it difficult to adequately predict how the conflict will play out. Though signs pointed to an increasing U.S. support for the Rodríguez government, Trump’s claim that he is “seriously considering” making Venezuela the 51st U.S. state due to its estimated $40 trillion USD in oil resources, made on May 11, cast doubt over the proceedings.
The following day, he doubled down, sharing a map of Venezuela labeled as the “51st State” on his Truth Social account. Rodríguez was forced to respond from The Hague, asserting that Venezuela is “not a colony, but a free country.” Notably, Trump’s map of Venezuela did not include the “24th State” of Guyana Esequiba; however, a map shared by Rodriguez later that same day did include it.
The Trump administration’s interventions are destined to inflame a conflict that was itself created by “colonial powers inserting themselves,” according to Tinker Salas. Given the imperial machinations of the past, the conflict “should be resolved amicably between both countries, where they can recognize what Essequibo has been historically, and agree to protect the environment and indigenous peoples.”
Logan McMillen writes foreign policy analysis through the lens of critical political economy and geography, focusing on Latin America. His work has recently appeared in The New Republic, Responsible Statecraft, NACLA, and Asia Times.