‘Me Considero Prisionero de Guerra’: Maduro Arraigned in Federal Court

It’s the first Monday of 2026. As I step outside of the Canal Street subway station in Lower Manhattan, I can hear the whirring of helicopters above me. But other than that my morning walk down Canal Street is eerily quiet. The street is usually quite crowded, filled with rugs and suitcases displaying thousands of counterfeit bags. But not this morning. My confusion quickly clears when I see two masked Homeland Security Investigations officers in camouflage nod at one another and get into an unmarked vehicle. 

I am on my way to see Venezuelan President Nicolás Maduro Moros, who was extricated from his country by U.S. special forces the day before, be arraigned in federal court.

It’s 8:15 a.m.—nearly four hours before the scheduled hearing—and the Southern District of New York (SDNY) courthouse at 500 Pearl Street is already a mob scene. Some outlets have had reporters on the press line since 7:00 pm the evening before. Law enforcement is out in full force: a mix of Department of Homeland Security agents, U.S. Marshals, Drug Enforcement Agency (DEA) agents, Federal Bureau of Investigation (FBI) agents, New York Police Department (NYPD) officers, and SDNY court officers. Across the barricades, the press line winds up Pearl St. It is 28 degrees outside. Fifteen minutes later, court officers usher the press inside. We forfeit our electronics in exchange for warmth. No phones, no laptops, no electronics. I forgot to wear a watch.

Inside the courthouse, the law enforcement presence seems even larger. In the nearly four hours of waiting on the press line, I count 97 DEA agents, some dressed casually, others in suits, and many shielded by bulletproof vests. Various U.S. Marshals walk by too, with a few donning camouflage uniforms and tactical gear. Their armbands say “USMS Ram01,” which I later discover stands for the Rapidly Advancing Manhunt Program, which is responsible for transporting and locating high-profile fugitives. Droves of New York State police pass by, as well as NYPD officers, including the bomb squad.

I make friends with someone wearing a watch. At 11:45, court officers lead groups of 11, a mix of press and the public, to Courtroom 24A—the overflow room. We’re watching a livestream of the proceedings happening directly two floors up in Courtroom 26A. Compared to the somewhat dreary New York State Criminal Court, from which I’ve previously reported for Lawfare, SDNY is luxurious. The room is large and comfortable. Dark wood frames the windows and the judge’s bench, and draped yellow curtains bring a bit of brightness into the room on an otherwise gloomy day. As we wait for the arraignment to begin, a woman to my left tells a slew of journalists the story of her family’s escape from Venezuela in 1993 after the 1992 coup attempt led by Hugo Chavez’s Revolutionary Bolivarian Movement-200. She explains that Maduro’s arraignment brings her pleasure, but also trepidation. She is concerned about the future of her country. 

At 12:03, Maduro and his wife and codefendant, Cilia Adela Flores de Maduro, enter the courtroom with their legal teams. They’re both in black short sleeved jumpsuits with orange shirts underneath. Maduro has bright orange shoes to match. Both put on headphones. Maduro leans back in his chair and clasps his hands over his stomach. Flores sits forward, with her arms perched atop the table in front of her.

The time is 12:05 and Judge Alvin K. Hellerstein enters the courtroom. As the 92-year-old Bill Clinton appointee approaches the bench, the court’s deputy clerk asks counsel to state their appearances for the record. I can’t see the judge on the overflow room’s screen, but last time I was in Judge Hellerstein’s courtroom for a different matter, he conducted the entire hearing with airpods in.

Representing the government is Kyle Wirshba, an assistant U.S. Attorney (AUSA) for SDNY—a position he has held for more than eight years. He is joined by AUSAs Kaylan Lasky, Nicholas Bradley, Kevin Sullivan, and Henry Ross. 

Next, Barry Pollack introduces himself as counsel on behalf of Maduro. Pollack famously represented WikiLeaks founder Julian Assange and negotiated his 2024 plea deal leading to his immediate release from law enforcement custody. Representing Flores is Mark Donnelly and co-counsel Andres Sanchez. 

After introducing himself to counsel and the defendants, Hellerstein begins the hearing by summarizing the indictment. Count 1, he says, charges Maduro with narco-terrorism conspiracy. More specifically, that from 1999–2025, Maduro knowingly conspired with Disdado Cabello Rondón and Ramón Rodriguez Chacín (the current and former interior ministers for Venezuela) to manufacture and distribute controlled substances, in violation of 21 U.S.C. § 960(a) and 18 U.S.C. § 3238. Count 2 charges Maduro and Flores with cocaine importation conspiracy. Hellerstein states that from 1999–2025, the defendants—alongside Cabello Rondón, Rodriguez Chacín, Maduro and Flores’s son Nicólas Ernesto Guerra, alleged gang leader of Tren de Aragua Hector Rusthenford Guerrero Flores, and others—knowingly engaged in an unlawful conspiracy to “import, manufacture, and distribute a controlled substance containing a detectable amount of cocaine” intending that the substance would be imported into the United States in violation of 21 U.S.C. § 963 and 18 U.S.C. § 3238. Count 3 charges Maduro and Flores with possession of machine guns and destructive devices used in relation to drug trafficking crimes in violation of 18 U.S.C. § 924(c)(1)(a), §924(c)(B)(ii), §3238, and §2. And finally, Hellerstein summarizes, Count 4 charges Maduro and Flores with conspiracy to possess machine guns and destructive devices in violation of 18 U.S.C.§ 924(c) and 924 and 3238.

Hellerstein then asks Maduro to confirm his identity. Maduro, speaking in Spanish and using an interpreter, states “I am Nicolás Maduro Moros. My name is President Nicolás Maduro Moros. I am president of the Republic of Venezuela. And I am here kidnapped since Jan. 3, Saturday. I was captured at my home in Caracas, Venezuela—”

Hellerstein quickly cuts off Maduro, explaining that there will be a “time and place” in the future to “go into all of this” and asks Maduro to once again—succinctly, judging from his tone—confirm his identity. 

During a lull in the proceedings, the Spanish-speaking reporters to my right and in front of me kindly make sure I understood what Maduro said. (The interpreter is at times difficult to hear, and my high school Spanish is not serving me as well as I had hoped). As the Spanish-speaking reporters would later write, Maduro first identified himself by stating that he was the president of Venezuela and that he had been kidnapped but also added, “me considero prisionero de guerra” which translates to “I consider myself to be a prisoner of war.” Notably, the interpreter did not relay this statement to the court, and neither the English translation nor the original Spanish phrase is included in the court’s official transcript of the proceedings.

Oops.

After Maduro waived his right to the public reading of the indictment against him, Hellerstein reminds the defendant of additional rights, including that he is not required to make statements to the authorities and that anything he says can be used against him. Maduro states that this is the first time he is hearing of these rights.

Hellerstein then asks Maduro to enter his plea to the indictment, to which he responds, “I am innocent. I am not guilty. I am a decent man. The constitutional president of my country.” Pollack, on behalf of Maduro, clarifies that his client’s not guilty plea applies to each of the four counts in the indictment.

With Maduro officially arraigned by the court’s deputy clerk, Hellerstein asks Flores to rise. She does, and identifies herself as the “first lady of the Republic of Venezuela.” Like Maduro, Flores speaks Spanish and uses an interpreter. Flores also waives her right to a public reading of the indictment, identifies her counsel standing beside her, and confirms she is aware of her rights as Hellerstein has read them to her. The judge then asks how Flores pleads to the charges against her—counts two, three, and four. “Not guilty” she says, “completely innocent.”

Hellerstein asks the government to confirm the time and date of the arrests of the defendants and their circumstances of bringing the two of them to court. Wirshba, on behalf of the government, clarifies that the defendants were brought into U.S. custody at "approximately 11:30 a.m. on Jan. 3, 2026, and were transported by plane to SDNY,” landing here at "approximately 4:31 p.m. on Jan. 3.”

Wirshba—after asking permission from Hellerstein to attend to a few other “housekeeping matters”—then notes for the record that Maduro and Flores have the right to request consular notification, which he states is not mandatory in this case. Presumably Wirshba is referring to guidance from the State Department, which says that foreign nationals who are arrested or detained in the United States “must be advised of the option to have the closest consulate or the embassy [for their country] notified.” Both Maduro and Flores confirm that they understand this right, and that they would like to exercise it. At Hellerstein’s request, Wirshba confirms that the U.S. government can arrange for this notification to happen. 

Next, Hellerstein issues an oral Rule 5(f) order to be filed by his deputy. The order directs the prosecution to comply with its obligation under Brady v. Maryland, to “disclose to the defense all information, whether admissible or not, that is favorable to the defendant, material either to guilt or to punishment, and known to the prosecution.” Hellerstein confirms that he will enter a written order at a later date that more fully describes the prosecution’s obligation and the possible consequences of failing to meet it.

Wirshba then states for the record that both defendants are using interpreters throughout the proceedings. Hellerstein, after stating the names of the interpreters, asks both Maduro and Flores whether they understood the interpretation of the proceedings. Maduro replies, “Yes, I have understood it, and I’ve been taking notes.” Flores confirms that she too has “understood everything completely.” 

Before Hellerstein has another chance to speak, Maduro announces a request: “I would like to ask that my notes be respected and that I be allowed to keep them.” To which Hellerstein responds, “I believe you are entitled to keep them.” Wirshba confirms that the government plans to work with the defense and the U.S. marshals to "ensure the notes are kept appropriately.”

Moving onto the issue of bail and pretrial release, both Pollack and Donnelly explain that neither Maduro nor Flores is seeking release at this time, without prejudice to putting in a bail application at a future date. Hellerstein confirms that his firm policy is that “whenever, and as often you think it is appropriate, [the defense] can make that application.”

Next on Hellerstein’s agenda is the issue of the production of Rule 16 documents. Rule 16 of the Federal Rules of Criminal Procedure governs the defendant’s discovery of evidence in possession of the prosecution and vice versa. Wirshba explains to the court that the government is prepared to produce these materials “expeditiously” and that once the parties have settled on a protective order, the “government will begin producing voluminous materials almost immediately.” The government and the defense then jointly submit a proposal of a filing deadline or appearance before the court in 60 days to update Hellerstein on their progress on the Rule 16 documents and a proposed schedule.

Hellerstein is amenable to the proposal, and confirms with the defense that they are in agreement. Pollack then states that he anticipates a substantial motions practice. “Mr. Maduro is the head of a sovereign state and is entitled to the privileges and immunities that go with that office,” he says. He is referring to a bedrock principle of international law, known as head of state immunity, which provides that leaders of sovereign states are immune from prosecution by other states. What complicates this matter, however, is that the U.S. government does not recognize Maduro as the legitimate leader of Venezuela, and has not since 2019.

Pollack also hints at other “issues about the legality” of Maduro’s “military abduction,” and confirms that he doesn’t think it makes sense to set a deadline for motions just yet. He adds that Maduro is willing to waive his speedy trial rights through a 60-day period, after which the court can set a motions deadline. Donnelly chimes in to note that Flores would like to similarly waive her rights to a speedy trial until the court reconvenes. The government then confirms that this timeline is satisfactory. Hellerstein grants the prosecution and defense’s proposal and sets a date to reconvene: March 17. Happy St. Patrick’s Day?

Before wrapping up, Pollack asserts that Maduro has some health issues that require medical attention while he’s in pretrial detention, and asks if there is a medical form he can fill out for his client. Hellerstein then orders the defense to “work that out with Wirshba” to make sure Maduro is attended to. Similarly, Donnelly informs the court that “during her abduction” Flores sustained "significant injuries.” Gesturing to his client, Donnelly specifies that “there’s a belief she may have a fracture or a severe bruising on her ribs” and would like to be sure she has a full x-ray and physical evaluation to “ensure her health.”

Hellerstein once again directs the defense to “work it out” with Wirshba, and explains that if the defense has any difficulties, he will do his best to make sure the defendants receive “full and adequate medical attention.” 

Judge Hellerstein states for the parties that he’ll see them again on March 17 at 11:00 a.m. And with that, we’re adjourned.

*           *           *

After reclaiming my electronics, I walk outside the courthouse to find a massive rally. Some people are there in support of Maduro. Others are celebrating his capture and arraignment. On seemingly every street corner, men and women are handing out small Venezuelan flags. Various signs appear in this sea of red, blue, and yellow flags. “U.S. OUT OF THE CARIBBEAN” one sign reads. “Stop Illegal War on Venezuela! Get in the streets! Trump Must Go NOW” says another. And directly behind it, I see a “TRUMP 2024” flag. “Make America Great Again!” yells a man next to me in the crowd. An older woman gives him the finger.

I turn the corner to find a quiet street and make my way back to the subway. As I get farther away, I can hear shouting and chanting in the distance, but the rally cries of protestors are soon overtaken by the regular sounds of New York City. A siren, the oohs and ahhs of a tourist walking too slowly, and the whispers of a woman trying to sell me a counterfeit bag.

Nature is healing. Canal street is bustling again.