The decision by Venezuela’s de facto government to promote a reform of the so-called “Constitutional Law Against Hate, for Peaceful Coexistence and Tolerance” opens a discussion that goes far beyond modifying a few articles. The fundamental question is what to do with legislation that, for nearly nine years, has been associated with criminal proceedings, extortion, restrictions on freedom of expression, and the persecution of citizens for their opinions or statements.
On September 29, acting President Delcy Rodríguez asked the National Assembly to urgently undertake a partial reform of the law, with the stated purpose of “advancing the decriminalization” of the conduct covered by it and transforming the criminal justice system. That same day, Jorge Rodríguez announced the creation of a special commission of eleven lawmakers tasked with drafting the bill.
The acting president herself acknowledged that the legislation had been “misapplied” and that it had been subject to “abusive use.” That acknowledgment would constitute an important starting point were it not for the fact that a law such as this one cannot really be “properly applied.” And that raises an inevitable question: does it make sense to reform legislation that for years was used as an instrument of repression, or should its very existence, its consequences, and the responsibilities arising from its application be comprehensively reviewed?
The law, moreover, has a history. It was approved in November 2017 by the National Constituent Assembly, an illegitimate body by virtue of its origins. Delcy Rodríguez presided over that body at the time and was the leading figure behind the law’s promotion. Today, nine years later, she herself is calling for its reform.
If the de facto government itself acknowledges that the law was used abusively, the discussion should not be limited to determining which articles will be amended. It should also examine how the law was used, against whom it was used, which rights were affected, what consequences those actions had for people subjected to criminal proceedings or deprived of their liberty, who requested and authorized its application, and what responsibilities those actors bear for human rights violations.
The Law Against Hate was not merely a declarative provision. Article 20 established prison sentences of between ten and twenty years for certain conduct related to the promotion or incitement of hatred, while other provisions granted the State powers with direct consequences for media outlets and publicly disseminated content. Inciting hatred, obviously, can mean anything that the executive branch orders a court subordinate to its dictates to consider as such. Thus, the lack of precision in some of its provisions and the subjective and vague nature of the law are not an accident; they are a matter of design, intended to provide a framework for repression of the broadest possible scope and discretion.
The Inter-American Commission on Human Rights, through its Office of the Special Rapporteur for Freedom of Expression, expressed concern about the law and its potential effects on freedom of expression. More recently, the UN Committee on the Elimination of Racial Discrimination pointed to the lack of precision in the definitions used and expressed concern about criminal proceedings related to statements against authorities and the defense of human rights.
The data on its application help put the problem into perspective. Espacio Público has documented more than 120 cases of violations of freedom of expression linked to the law between 2017 and 2024. Its analysis indicates that the cases affected, among others, private citizens, public-sector workers, journalists, and people associated with nongovernmental organizations.
A legislative reform, insufficient in itself, can change the future of a law, but it does not automatically change what happened during the years in which that law was in force.
What happens to those who were detained? What happens to those who were prosecuted? What happens to people who served sentences, faced restrictions on their liberty, or had to endure judicial proceedings because of statements that the State itself now considers necessary to decriminalize? What happens to those who are still imprisoned today under this unconstitutional law? A genuine review must incorporate this dimension.
The acknowledgment that there was “abusive use” of the law must be accompanied by a public and documented review of the cases in which the legislation was invoked. It should establish how many people were prosecuted, how many were convicted, how many remain subject to restrictive measures, and what mechanisms exist to review the consequences of those actions.
Otherwise, there is a risk that legislative reform will produce a kind of institutional amnesia: the text is changed and the page is turned without examining the consequences of the preceding years.
The official proposal calls for a partial reform and the decriminalization of certain conduct. However, organizations defending freedom of expression and sectors of the democratic opposition have called for the legislation to be repealed in its entirety. Espacio Público argues that, based on its legal analysis and years of documenting cases, there are clear reasons to consider the continued existence of the law incompatible with Venezuela’s international human rights obligations.
Ultimately, the debate over the Law Against Hate should form part of a much broader review of the Venezuelan legal system constructed over the past 27 years.
A comprehensive review of the legal framework established during the authoritarian period is necessary, as is the identification of provisions incompatible with human rights standards and the establishment of mechanisms to remedy the consequences of their application.
Democratic coexistence is not built solely by amending the laws that enabled repression. It also requires recognizing those who were harmed by them.
The Law Against Hate was introduced in 2017 in the name of tolerance, coexistence, and peace. Its application, however, generated a broad debate over the limits of state power to define and punish certain forms of expression. Today, when those who hold power acknowledge that the law was abused—albeit perhaps motivated by a keen sense of political expediency—the international community should stand alongside Venezuelan civil society organizations in the effort to eliminate the authoritarian laws left behind by the unrestrained exercise of power by those who continue to resist democratic values.