Amid an unprecedented U.S. naval blockade against Venezuela, described by one member of Congress as “unquestionably an act of war,” a single American corporation continues to operate with undisturbed privilege.
While other ships are turned away or seized, only tankers chartered by Chevron have been able to leave Venezuelan ports carrying crude oil despite the escalation of military tensions.
This exclusive arrangement, protected by a U.S. government license, underscores a stark reality of modern geopolitics: warfare and sanctions can coexist with corporate carve-outs that create islands of immunity for the powerful.
Chevron’s position of privilege follows a decadeslong pattern of legal aggression, refined during its campaign to evade accountability for environmental devastation in Ecuador, a campaign that ultimately targeted the lawyer who challenged the company.
For more than 25 years in Ecuador’s Amazon region, Texaco, which Chevron acquired in 2001, dumped billions of gallons of toxic waste into the environment.
Indigenous communities have linked the contamination to elevated cancer rates and widespread health problems. In 2011, after years of litigation, an Ecuadorian court ordered Chevron to pay $9.5 billion in damages. Chevron refused to comply and instead launched a global counteroffensive.
The company concentrated its resources on dismantling the judgment and discrediting Steven Donziger, the lead American lawyer for the plaintiffs. In a case brought by Chevron, a U.S. judge ruled that the Ecuadorian judgment had been obtained through fraud and racketeering.
Chevron’s narrative of systemic fraud, promoted aggressively in U.S. courts and on its corporate platforms, became the prevailing framework in subsequent proceedings.
The consequences for Donziger were severe and widely described as unprecedented.
He was disbarred from practicing law in New York. He spent 993 days in pretrial home confinement, followed by time in prison, on a contempt charge, a duration longer than sentences typically imposed for similar offenses.
After federal prosecutors declined to pursue the case, the judge appointed private lawyers to prosecute him, a move criticized by human rights advocates and legal observers.
In a recent twist, an international arbitration tribunal ordered Ecuador to pay Chevron $220 million, agreeing with the company’s claim that Ecuador violated investment treaties by allowing the judgment to stand.
For the communities afflicted by pollution, the ruling represents a profound injustice.
The Union of Peoples Affected by Chevron-Texaco said any debt is owed not to Chevron but to Amazonian families still waiting for truth, justice and full environmental remediation.
Legal experts have criticized the investor-state dispute settlement system that enabled the award, calling it outdated and structurally biased toward corporate interests.
A United Nations special rapporteur said the system lacks legitimacy when used to override decisions of a country’s own highest courts.
The Ecuador case reveals a consistent template: confront legal and environmental accountability with overwhelming counterlitigation, target individual advocates and then use international arbitration to recast corporate liability as corporate victimhood.
Similar accusations of environmental harm and human rights abuses exist in other countries, including Argentina and Nigeria.
Organizations like Amazon Watch and Friends of the Earth International have highlighted Chevron as an example of corporate impunity within the global legal system, which they argue prioritizes corporate profit and investment protection over human rights and environmental accountability.
The oil giant has not always prevailed.
Chevron’s oil refinery in Richmond is the second largest greenhouse gas emitter in California and a major chemical polluter.
In a historic company town where Chevron is the largest employer, the corporation attempted to reclaim political influence by spending $3 million to support a sympathetic slate of candidates in 2014.
This effort was overwhelmingly rejected by voters, who instead elected a progressive slate that spent a mere $58,000 through a grassroots, door-to-door campaign.
The decisive election result served as a direct local referendum against Chevron’s political and environmental record, which progressive Mayor Tom Butt hailed as a “David versus Goliath” victory.
Chevron’s operations also sit at the center of the global climate crisis.
Fossil fuels remain the largest contributor to climate change, responsible for the vast majority of carbon dioxide emissions.
Internal research and historical records show that scientists at major oil companies understood the connection between fossil fuels and global warming decades ago, even as corporate leaders publicly downplayed or distorted the risks.
New research is increasingly linking specific companies to measurable climate damage.
One study estimates that emissions from five major oil companies, including Chevron, contributed to $9 trillion in global economic losses from extreme heat between 1991 and 2020.
Similar methodologies are now being applied to hurricanes, floods and wildfires, opening new avenues for climate-related litigation.
Despite this, the industry continues to promote itself as an economic necessity while lobbying against meaningful climate policy.
Against this backdrop, Chevron’s exclusive license to operate in sanctioned Venezuela stands out as a case study in political influence.
Chevron has said it is a commercial actor, not a political one, but its operations carry unmistakable political consequences.
Analysts estimate that Chevron’s joint ventures with Venezuela’s state oil company generate close to one-third of the government’s oil revenue.
That income provides a critical lifeline to the government of President Nicolás Maduro, which has been accused of human rights abuses and of conducting undemocratic elections.
The U.S. license allowing Chevron to operate was justified as a measure to encourage democratic progress, yet it remained in effect after Maduro’s widely disputed 2024 reelection.
Chevron’s return to Venezuela followed years of lobbying after U.S. sanctions had largely forced the company out.
The breakthrough came after Russia’s invasion of Ukraine, when the United States sought alternative oil supplies.
Critics said Washington effectively traded one sanctioned autocrat for another, tightening restrictions on Russian oil while granting Chevron a special license to resume operations in Venezuela.
The current naval blockade has further exposed the contradiction. As the United States seizes Venezuelan tankers and threatens an expanded military presence, Chevron’s shipments continue.
Analysts note the blockade appears to target only a portion of Venezuela’s exports, roughly one-third, leaving other channels open while Chevron’s business remains protected.
The thread connecting the persecution of Steven Donziger, the polluted lands of Ecuador, the warming planet and the geopolitical deal in Venezuela is one of power and impunity.
Chevron operates within a system it has helped shape, one in which legal and arbitration frameworks can be weaponized against individuals and states, scientific reality can be obscured by sustained disinformation, and geopolitical conflict can be leveraged for corporate gain.
The communities in Ecuador’s Amazon, the global public confronting climate breakdown and the Venezuelan people caught between an authoritarian government and an increasingly militarized blockade all bear the cost.
As environmental and political crises deepen, many unresolved questions remain, but one corporation has such powerful influence it may never be held to account.
With Nicholas Maduro in a New York jail cell awaiting trial, the US government may be able to bully his successor but ExxonMobil decided not to invest because Venezuela is too unstable. The situation may still explode into violence.
If President Donald Trump successfully provokes a war with Venezuela, will Chevron be able to stay on both sides?