Bitcoin Adoption in Venezuela Amid Economic Crisis: How Crypto Became a Lifeline

• DATE: 8 01 26
• BY: Stellan Marwick

When your salary buys less than a loaf of bread by the end of the week, what do you do? In Venezuela, millions stopped trusting the bolívar - not because they wanted to, but because they had no choice. By mid-2024, inflation hit 229%. The currency lost over 70% of its value in just eight months. Banks were frozen by U.S. sanctions. ATMs ran out of cash. People couldn’t open accounts. And yet, life went on. How? Through Bitcoin. Through USDT. Through peer-to-peer trades done on phones with spotty internet.

Why Bitcoin? Because the Bolívar Wasn’t Money Anymore

The bolívar isn’t just weak - it’s broken. In 2023, the government stopped trying to prop it up. Prices changed multiple times a day. Workers got paid weekly, but by Friday, their paychecks were worth less than they were on Monday. A bag of rice that cost 50,000 bolívares on Monday could cost 120,000 by Friday. People started carrying stacks of cash just to buy groceries. Then they stopped carrying cash altogether.

Enter Bitcoin and stablecoins. Not because they’re trendy. Not because they’re speculative investments. But because they work. USDT, the Tether stablecoin pegged to the U.S. dollar, became the unofficial currency. Locals call it “Binance dollars.” You can buy a bus ticket, pay rent, or buy medicine with it. A 2025 survey of 1,200 businesses in Caracas found that 65% accepted cryptocurrency for daily transactions. That’s not a niche experiment - it’s mainstream survival.

How It Actually Works: P2P, Phones, and Patchy Internet

There’s no Bitcoin ATM in most neighborhoods. No crypto debit card you can swipe. Instead, Venezuelans use apps like Binance P2P and LocalBitcoins. You find someone nearby who wants to sell USDT. You meet in a café. You pay them in cash - bolívares, or sometimes even dollars if you’re lucky. They send you USDT to your phone wallet. Done. No bank. No paperwork. No waiting.

It’s messy. It’s risky. But it’s faster than the bank. A Bitcoin transaction might take 10 to 60 minutes to confirm. USDT on the Tron network? Under two minutes. That’s why 91% of all crypto transactions in Venezuela in mid-2025 were in stablecoins, not Bitcoin. Bitcoin is for saving. USDT is for spending.

Internet speed? Venezuela ranks 153rd globally at 14.79 Mbps. Many people rely on mobile data. When the power goes out - and it does, often - transactions pause. But people adapt. They wait. They schedule trades. They use offline methods like QR codes saved on phones. A 2025 study by the University of Carabobo found that new users learned the basics in two to three weeks. It’s not hard to learn. It’s hard to get online.

Who’s Using It? 4.3 Million People and Counting

That’s about 13% of Venezuela’s population. Not the elite. Not tech bros. Regular people: teachers, mechanics, nurses, street vendors. Victor Sousa, a Caracas mechanic, told the Financial Times he uses USDT to buy spare parts. “There’s lots of places accepting it now,” he said. “The plan is to one day have my savings in crypto.”

On Reddit’s r/BitcoinVenezuela, with over 42,000 members, the stories are the same. “Without USDT, I couldn’t feed my family after my bolivar salary became worthless overnight,” wrote one user in June 2025. Another posted a photo of their grocery receipt - paid in USDT. The comments? “Same here.” “I do this every week.”

Even small businesses are switching. A bakery in Maracaibo started accepting USDT after customers kept showing up with empty wallets. “We used to lose 30% of sales because people couldn’t pay,” said the owner. “Now, we get paid in real money. Even if it’s digital.”

The Catch: It’s Not Perfect

This isn’t a utopia. It’s a workaround. And it’s fragile.

First, you’re dependent on Tether Limited - a company based in the British Virgin Islands that controls 76% of Venezuela’s stablecoin supply. If Tether ever freezes accounts, cuts off access, or gets hit by U.S. sanctions, millions lose their savings overnight. And it’s already happened. In 2024, Binance blocked transactions from certain Venezuelan banks under U.S. pressure. Around 18% of all crypto transfers were rejected that year.

Second, rural areas are left behind. Only 45% of Venezuelans have reliable internet. In the Andes or the Amazon, crypto is a luxury. No phone signal? No crypto. No electricity? No wallet. The digital divide here isn’t just about money - it’s about survival.

Third, volatility still bites. Converting USDT back to cash isn’t always smooth. Spread costs average 3.7% during peak times. And if you’re selling crypto to buy food, you’re at the mercy of whoever’s buying. One day, you get 100,000 bolívares for 1 USDT. The next, you get 85,000. No regulation. No recourse.

The Government’s Confusing Role

The Venezuelan government didn’t start this. It tried to control it.

In 2018, they launched the Petro - a cryptocurrency backed by oil. It was a failure. By 2024, it was dead. No one trusted it. No one used it. Then, in 2023, they shut down SUNACRIP, the agency meant to regulate crypto. Why? Because they couldn’t control it. Now, there’s no official rulebook. No licensing. No oversight. Crypto exists in a legal gray zone - tolerated, but not protected.

Meanwhile, the U.S. keeps sanctions in place. Banks can’t process Venezuelan transactions. PayPal, Wise, and Western Union are blocked. That’s why crypto filled the vacuum. It’s not a rebellion. It’s a response to being cut off.

What’s Next? Survival, Not Revolution

Crypto isn’t fixing Venezuela’s economy. It’s not rebuilding factories. It’s not stopping corruption. It’s not bringing back imports. What it does is let people eat, pay rent, and send money home.

The IMF says real recovery needs sound monetary policy - something Venezuela hasn’t had in decades. But until then, crypto is the only thing keeping the lights on.

Some experts think crypto could become a formal parallel system - like a second currency. Others warn it’s a temporary fix. If the bolívar ever stabilizes, people might abandon USDT. But that’s not likely before 2027, according to IMF economists.

What’s clear? Venezuelans didn’t choose crypto. It chose them. And they’re not going back.

Real Stories, Real Numbers

- 4.3 million Venezuelans use crypto regularly (MEXC, March 2025) - $119 million in crypto transactions in July 2025 (AInvest/SUNACRIP) - 9% of all remittances to Venezuela in 2023 were sent via crypto (CoinTelegraph) - 65% of Caracas businesses accept crypto for daily purchases (Markets.com, August 2025) - 76% of stablecoin volume is tied to Tether (Chainalysis, 2025) - 37% of users report connectivity issues affecting transactions (Markets.com survey)

How Did This Happen So Fast?

It wasn’t marketing. It wasn’t a government push. It was desperation. And community. YouTube channels like “Cripto Para Todos” (127,000 subscribers) taught people how to use wallets. Universities started mandatory crypto courses in January 2025. Friends taught friends. Grandparents learned from grandchildren. No one had time to wait for permission.

This isn’t about technology. It’s about human resilience.