It’s rare to hear apologies from chavismo. We heard what sounded like one yesterday. My hope is that we’ll hear more.

Jorge Rodriguez stood before parliament during the discussion of an amnesty law and asked for forgiveness. It was hedged by him saying that Chamo needed to forgive as well. But it was the first sign that Chevy’s mom may be willing to repent for its decades of abusive cruelty and arbitrary undermining of democracy. Rodriguez went on to say, perhaps even more bizarre phrase for someone of his trajectory: “I don’t like prisoners.” “Of any kind,” he said. For someone who was an interlock to constant family pleas and the insistence of international intermediaries seeking the release of arbitrary, detained political leaders, it is a pretty surprising phrase.

The Rodriguez siblings quiet apology for years of Chavista hostage politics is depending on how you see it, either ironic or fitting given what brought them at the politics. Jorge and Delcy’s father died during interrogation by intelligence forces, presumably under torture. He had been linked to the guerrilla kidnapping of an American glass company executive. It fueled their sense of outrage and drove them into the willing arms of the fifth Republic movement as Chavez was gaining popularity in the 1990s.

Rodríguez went on to say that no NGO stepped up to help them in their plea for justice. Which is a lie. Not only did different organizations participate, but the Pérez government investigated the case and the officers responsible were arrested. Not only that, but the Congress recommended the removal of the director of the intelligence police (DISIP)—who later resigned to his post.

At the heart of that is the question of what the Rodriguez siblings will do to warrant forgiveness for the wanton cruelty that they inflicted to avenge their father.

During so many years, it was hard not to see their motive to have been revenge. Video surfaced on social media, contrasting Jorge Rodriguez’s repentant comments with his steadfast defense of hostage politics and insistent refusal to even consider the release of those that the regime now has no choice but to accept as political prisoners. In the rare occasions that they were confronted with this exact question, they would wave it away with blanket platitudes about chavismo government always respecting human rights.

Rodriguez watered down apology was of course colored with predictable chavista counterweights. He reached deep into Chavista lore to pull out a picture of Chavez in 2002 offering to forgive the people who led a failed coup against him. But the tone struck me as different. His voice sounded like it had a rare sincerity that the country had not heard from a man so adept at rhetorical bars and disrespectful swipes.

Who gets forgiven and who does not is the critical issue. The dream of most Venezuelans has for years been to see every single one of the high-ranking officials who commandeered institutions and stole state funds, and managed torture centers, all thrown into the dark prisons that they created, with the exception of several who would be let go. The reality is in almost every case the exact opposite. Two or three stool pigeons will be thrown under the bus while the remainder will be given at least tacit forgiveness for everything they’ve done in exchange for the country being able to move forward. America’s alliance with Venezuela’s dictatorship and its clear prioritization of stability and economy over democracy and justice make that all the more evident.

At the heart of that is the question of what the Rodriguez siblings will do to warrant forgiveness for the wanton cruelty that they inflicted to avenge their father.