Venezuela Demands Airline Flights Resume Amid U.S. Safety Warnings and European Cancellations

When Venezuela’s aviation authority ordered international airlines to resume flights to Caracas or face suspension of operating rights, it wasn’t just a bureaucratic ultimatum—it was a desperate gamble in a sky growing increasingly dangerous. On November 25, 2025, the National Institute of Civil Aviation (INAC) gave carriers 48 hours to return to Simón Bolívar International Airport in Caracas, threatening to revoke their licenses if they didn’t comply. The move came just days after the U.S. Federal Aviation Administration (FAA) issued a rare, sweeping warning—KICZ A0012/25—declaring Venezuela’s entire SVZM/Maiquetía Flight Information Region a potential hazard zone. The FAA cited "worsening security situation and heightened military activity" as grounds for the alert, advising U.S. carriers to give 72 hours’ notice before entering Venezuelan airspace. And now, dozens of flights are grounded, travelers are stranded, and the world’s airlines are caught in the middle.

Why the Sky Is No Longer Safe

The FAA’s warning, issued on November 21, 2025, wasn’t an isolated concern. It echoed warnings from Spain and Portugal, which issued near-identical advisories on November 24, 2025. Both countries cited "increased military activity, air-defence systems active at all levels, and poor coordination between parties in the area" as reasons to avoid Venezuelan airspace. Pilots aren’t just being told to steer clear—they’re being told the risk is real. The FAA specifically warned that threats could affect aircraft at any altitude, including during takeoff, landing, and even while parked on the ground.

What’s behind the spike in tension? U.S. military assets have surged into the southern Caribbean. The USS Gerald R. Ford (CVN-78) carrier strike group, F-35 fighter jets, stealth aircraft, and Marine Corps units have been deployed under the official rationale of combating drug trafficking. But Venezuelan officials see it differently. Multiple U.S. officials told media that the Trump administration had considered dropping psychological warfare leaflets over Caracas to pressure President Nicolás Maduro. Meanwhile, the U.S. designated the Cartel de los Soles—a network allegedly linked to top Venezuelan military brass—as a foreign terrorist organization. The message was clear: the sky isn’t just busy. It’s militarized.

Airlines Pull the Plug

The fallout was swift. On November 22, 2025, Spain’s Iberia Líneas Aéreas de España, S.A. Operadora suspended its Madrid-Caracas route "until further notice." Its last flight operated on the 23rd; all subsequent trips were canceled through December 1. Air Europa followed, halting five weekly flights "until conditions are adequate." Portugal’s TAP Air Portugal, Chile’s LATAM Airlines Group S.A., Colombia’s Avianca Holdings S.A., and Brazil’s Gol Linhas Aéreas Inteligentes S.A. all grounded their Venezuela routes by Saturday the 22nd. Turkish Airlines pulled out from Istanbul to Caracas between November 24–28. Even Trinidad’s Caribbean Airlines Limited suspended operations.

Smaller carriers weren’t spared. Estelar canceled flights on November 24, 26, and 28, blaming its Spanish partner Iberojet. LASER Aérea rescheduled flights without explanation. The cancellations weren’t just corporate decisions—they were survival moves. As Marisela de Loaiza, president of Venezuela’s Asociación de Líneas Aéreas de Venezuela (ALAV), put it: "Airlines aren’t ignoring safety. They’re responding to it. No company wants to be the one whose plane disappears over the Andes because someone misfired a missile."

Stranded Passengers and the Human Cost

Hundreds of travelers were left stranded on November 24, 2025, the day the Madrid-Caracas corridor effectively shut down. Thousands more faced disrupted plans for holidays, family visits, and business trips. Many were Venezuelan expats in Spain returning home for Christmas—or Spaniards visiting relatives in Caracas. One woman from Valencia, traveling with her two children, told local media she spent 14 hours in the Madrid airport trying to rebook: "They told me to wait for a refund. But what if I need to get to my mother before she has surgery?"

The emotional toll is real. But so is the economic one. Venezuela’s air connectivity has already been among the weakest in Latin America. With Iberia, TAP, and LATAM gone, the country’s isolation deepens. ALAV estimates that over 10,000 passengers were directly impacted in the first week alone. For a nation already struggling with imports and medical supplies, losing reliable air links could mean longer delays for life-saving drugs, spare parts, and humanitarian aid.

What Airlines Are Doing Instead

While Venezuela demands flights return, airlines are finding workarounds. Many now route flights around Venezuelan airspace entirely—diverting through Colombia’s FIR or over the Caribbean Sea. Copa Airlines, Panama’s state-backed carrier, continues flying to Caracas, but with reduced frequency. Conviasa, Venezuela’s state-owned airline, still operates, but with fewer planes and older fleets. The result? Longer flight times, higher fuel costs, and increased ticket prices. Passengers flying from Madrid to Caracas now often stop in Bogotá or Lima, adding 4–6 hours to their journey.

IATA, representing 350 airlines, called Venezuela’s 48-hour ultimatum "reckless and counterproductive." The organization urged Caracas to withdraw the deadline, warning that forcing airlines into unsafe conditions would only deepen Venezuela’s global isolation. "Safety isn’t negotiable," said an IATA spokesperson. "No government can override the judgment of pilots and safety officers on the ground."

What Happens Next?

There’s no sign Venezuela will back down. The INAC has not extended the deadline, and no new FAA advisory has been issued. But the U.S. military presence shows no signs of withdrawal. The FAA’s warning remains active, and European nations are unlikely to lift their advisories until the situation stabilizes. For now, the skies above Venezuela remain a no-man’s-land.

The real question isn’t whether airlines will return—it’s whether the political climate will change enough to make it safe. Until then, the runway in Caracas will sit quiet, and the people who depend on it will keep waiting.