1978-82: Exporting Ideology

WHEN HERRERA CAMPINS WAS INAU-
gurated in March 1979 he pledged to concen-
trate on the domestic shambles inherited from Demo-
cratic Action and lower Venezuela’s international
profile. It soon became apparent that foreign policy
would be taking a conservative turn. Both internal
and external circumstances came prominently into
play.
In the first place, the new president had entered
office with the image of a progressive politician. Like
his Christian Democratic colleague Jos6 Napole6n
Duarte in El Salvador, he was taunted by conserva-
tive opponents as a “watermelon’ ‘-green, the color
of COPEI, on the outside, but pink on the inside.
Herrera had ruffled the feathers of the business com-
munity with his rhetoric of social justice; now he
would need to soothe their fears. His advisers reasoned
that a conservative foreign policy would be a cheap
trade-off for retaining his populist image at home.
In the second place, Herrera used his conservatism
in foreign policy to distance himself, in time-honored
fashion, from his predecessor. This helped neutralize
the still active Caldera faction of COPEI, which held
the most progressive views in the party on interna-
tional affairs. The 1978 election was only the second
occasion since 1958 that Caldera had not stood as the
COPEI candidate.
International political winds, too, favored Herrera’s
conservatism. The downfall of Michael Manley in
Jamaica was only the spearhead of a rightward trend
in the Eastern Caribbean. Further afield, the North-
South dialogue was at a stalemate; disillusionment
with the prospects for South American and Caribbean
regional integration had set in. President Carter il-
luminated the benefits of closer cooperation with
Washington when he ended the exclusion of Vene-
zuela-as an OPEC member-from the Generalized
System of [Tariff] Preferences (GSP) in 1980. As if
this were not enough, at the end of that year the
United States elected a right-wing president who
clearly announced his intention of making anti-com-
munism the major issue in the region.
“HERRERA CAMPINS SAW NO CONTRADIC- titn in hitchino hi wa onn tn RnnIrl Rp r n’
star. At the core of his foreign policy was the historic
opposition to Marxism of COPEI and the Christian
Democratic movement. The guiding rationale behind
the emergence of Christian Democracy was the need
to offer a political alternative to godless socialism.
Charting a course between the extreme emphasis on
the individual under capitalism and Marxism’s sub-
mergence of the individual in the social mass, the
movement posited a political system based on a kind
of corporate social responsibility. In the final analy-
sis, though, its most conservative ideologues believed
that communism-not capitalism, even in its authori-
tarian variants-posed the greatest threat to Christian
Democratic values. 1
This assumption was shared by the new Adminis-
tration in Washington, and a close friendship devel-
oped between the Reagan team’s chief intellectual
mentor on foreign affairs, U.N. Ambassador Jeane
Kirkpatrick, and COPEI’s principal ideologue, the
conservative Jos6 Rodriguez Iturbe. Rodriguez Iturbe
was also linked to Opus Dei, the Roman Catholic lay
order formed today by professional and business
elites and dedicated to promoting traditional conser-
vative values in the political and religious spheres. 2
If Caldera’s foreign minister Calvani had on occa-
REPORT ON THE AMERICAS
Ui
30sion taken conservative positions for tactical reasons,
Rodriguez Iturbe did so out of conviction. 3 With the
elevation of Rodriguez to head of the Advisory Com-
mission on Foreign Relations (CARE)-the govern-
ment’s chief consultative body on foreign affairs-the
way was paved for the dominant influence of con-
servatives and the reactionary Opus Dei in decision-
making.
FROM NOW ON, OIL WOULD MORE THAN
ever be mixed with ideology. Herrera used the
strength of the oil economy for the export of partisan
interests, most notably in Central America. His ad-
ministration’s scarcely concealed aid to fellow Chris-
tian Democrats in the region could be explained in
part by the strength of kindred feeling among Chris-
tian Democratic parties with their clear and narrowly
defined identity-a contrast to the eclectic alliance of
Social Democratic parties to which AD related.
With the eclipse of Chile’s powerful Christian
Democrats after the 1973 coup, Venezuela’s COPEI
became the unchallenged leader of Latin America’s
Christian Democratic community. Herrera used this
position to compete with the regional influence of the
Socialist International, for which Carlos Andrrs Perez
had acted as a Latin American standard bearer. AD
had touted political pluralism in Central America as a
goal in itself; for COPEI, this became secondary to
the aim of boosting its fraternal parties in El Salvador
and Nicaragua.
In addition, international links with the Christian
Democratic Organization of America (ODCA) and
the Christian Democratic World Union (CDWU) re-
inforced Venezuela’s ties to Washington. In May
1980, for example, Copeyano representatives attended
a conference in Washington sponsored by the neo-
conservative American Enterprise Institute and West
Germany’s Konrad Adenauer Foundation. The ob-
jective of the conference was to mobilize Latin
American Christian Democratic support for the elec-
tion of Reagan. The participants did not necessarily
share the Manichean assumptions of a Jeane Kirk-
patrick, but they agreed on the desirability of a tacti-
cal alliance with those who gave primacy to the
struggle against communism. 4
For a government which linked national security
with the advancement of Christian Democracy, an
alliance with the Reagan Administration held special
appeal, notwithstanding the real differences of style
and emphasis. On a pragmatic level, Venezuela knew
that U.S.’aid and trade benefits depended on the
country’s loyalty to Washington’s aims in Central
America and the Caribbean. Thus, COPEI presented
itself to Washington as the model democracy, ideo-
logically secure and a bulwark against any regional
deviation to the left.
After the U.S. election, Venezuelan Interior Minis-
ter Rafael Andrrs Montes de Oca declared that he and
Secretary of State Haig “saw eye-to-eye” and pro-
claimed “the absolute coincidence of views between
the United States and Venezuela.”‘ Such chummi-
ness between Caracas and Washington provoked stiff
domestic criticism, to the point where Foreign Minis-
ter Jos6 Alberto Zambrano Velasco was forced to
fend off opponents by declaring that “Venezuela is
not a puppet of the United States.”‘
V ENEZUELAN COOPERATION IN THE CAR-
ibbean Basin came to involve more than just
moral and material support. It would have a military
dimension as well, especially in Nicaragua and El
Salvador. Since the overthrow of the Perez Jim6nez
dictatorship and the establishment of Venezuela as a
counter-model in Washington’s mind to Cuban com-
munism, the Venezuelan military had developed an
intimate relationship with its North American coun-
terpart and sponsor.
Venezuela had been one of the nations most fa-
vored by U.S. military aid. Between 1959-69 it re-
ceived over $93 million worth of military equipment
on credit. In 1973 alone it was given $15 million in
credits, more than any other Latin American country.I
In the wake of soaring oil revenues, the level of
credits dropped, but even during the presidency of the
independent-minded Perez, U.S. military sales to
Venezuela, relative to population size, were second
only to Chile. From 1973-78, the United States sold
Venezuela $130 million worth of arms under com-
bined Foreign Military Sales (FMS) and commercial
arms export agreements.
The most troublesome aspect of this military rela-
tionship arose with the Herrera government’s request
in 1981 for 48 F-16 aircraft, the most sophisticated
combat jets in the U.S. arsenal. The request caused
ripples in both Caracas and Washington. The Nixon
Administration had banned sales of such sophisti-
cated military hardware as a threat to regional sta-
bility. 8 With a price tag of $22 million each, Vene-
zuela stretched to justify the $1 billion plus purchase
by citing the Cuban threat and the air strike capacity of
its Soviet-supplied MIGs in the Caribbean. The Ad-
ministration agreed. When Under Secretary of State
James Buckley was asked by the Senate Foreign Rela-
tions Committee why Venezuela needed the fighter
bombers, he shot back, “Something called Cuba.”
Said the State Department, “The sale strengthens our
ties with an important nation, enhances its capabili-
ties, and contributes to the stability of our ‘third
JULY/AUGUST3′ JULY/AUGUST 31ROil on Troubled Waters
Oil on Troubled Waters
border,’ the Caribbean.” 9 In this vision, Venezuela
could play a surrogate role analogous to that of Saudi
Arabia in the Middle East.
Although only half the number of jets requested
was eventually approved, the sale marked the first
occasion that they had been made available to any developing nation. The F-16s converted the Vene-
zuelan air force, much to its neighbors’ dismay, into
the most technically advanced in Latin America.
Venezuela clearly hoped to use the aircraft to bolster
its bargaining position in the dispute with Colombia
over the oil-rich gulf between the two countries, and
in the row with Guyana over the Essequibo region.
Needless to say, both neighbors protested the pur-
chase.
Herrera lashed out at “unpatriotic” domestic critics
who condemned the half-billion dollar purchase as
egregious waste-it was, after all, equivalent to three
times the total arms sales from the United States
during the oil-boom decade of the 1970s. He need not
have been overly concerned, for reaction from the
parties and the press was muted. The Venezuelan
military enjoyed an almost sacrosanct autonomy, due
in large measure to AD’s long pampering of the
institution. In September 1983, Venezuela duly took
delivery of the first three jets.”
VENEZUELAN POLICY TOWARD THE CAR-
ibbean, both English- and Spanish-speaking,
mirrored its general international attitudes. Two fac-
tors predominated in Venezuelan thinking. The driv-
ing force had for two decades been the desire to
contain Cuba. Over the last few years, that had been
accentuated by the development of what Caracas saw
as a series of socialist triangles: Cuba-Nicaragua-
Grenada; Cuba-Jamaica-Guyana; Cuba-Grenada-Suri-
nam; and, on a smaller scale, Grenada-St. Lucia-
Dominica.
Second, the arrival of Reagan in the White House
coincided with a general shift of political gears in the
English-speaking Caribbean. By the end of 1980,
Michael Manley’s PNP was swept out of office in
Jamaica, to be replaced ,by Edward Seaga’s free
market showcase. Conservative regimes had replaced
progressive ones in the Eastern Caribbean islands of
St. Lucia and Dominica.
Ideological predispositions aside, realpolitik argued
for Venezuela’s taking a conservative line. With the
inevitable expansion of the U.S. presence under Rea-
gan, and in the vacuum left by the stagnation of
CARICOM, COPEI policy-makers felt that a line
parallel to Washington’s could best maintain an ef-
fective Venezuelan presence in the area.'” Venezuela
continued, then, to exercise its considerable economic
power on behalf of congenial center-Right regimes
and to push for one-to-one agreements with them.
This bilateralism in turn accelerated one of the
many disintegrative forces at work within CARICOM.
Others included the continued strength of ties to the
U.S. economy; the emphasis on individual diplomatic
strategies of member states to the detriment of a
coordinated intra-regional foreign policy; and the
contention by some that CARICOM should be en-
larged to embrace Latin American nations. 3 The most
divisive issue during the 1980s was the wide range of
attitudes toward the Marxist government of Grenada.
The frictions within CARICOM have persisted: re-
cently Prime Minister George Chambers of Trinidad
and Tobago expressed his fear that the organization
was in danger of “becoming shipwrecked.””
Seaga’s Jamaica could now be wooed without
qualms, and the relationship could serve to isolate
Trinidad, Venezuela’s most persistent critic in the
Caribbean community. Venezuela had for some time
espoused a broad vision of Caribbean integration,
citing the need to expand CARICOM’s resource
base. Trinidad, lying hard off Venezuela’s eastern
coast, believed that CARICOM unity was best served
by limiting its economic relations as much as possible
to the 13 member nations. The continuing hostility
between Venezuela and Trinidad was fuelled by their
dispute over coastal fishing rights and rivalry as the
two most important oil producers in the Caribbean.
Trinidad, for example, was the only country to react
unfavorably to the 1980 San Jos6 Accord between
Mexico and Venezuela: it had already offered a simi-
lar plan, which in the words of one Venezuelan
scholar was “in many respects more generous.””
IN THE DOMINICAN REPUBLIC, THE PEREZ
administration had been accused of unwarranted
interference in Dominican internal affairs. The charges
flowed from the limits it placed on economic as-
sistance to the rightist regime of Joaquin Balaguer
and its open sympathy for the election in 1978 of the
social democratic PRD of Antonio Guzmiin. After
Guzmin’s election, Carlos Andr6s P6rez loudly con-
demned the plotting by the military to void the elec-
tions and extend Balaguer’s rule. The threat receded
and Guzmin’s Dominican Revolutionary Party (PRD)
took office while Venezuela moved immediately to
extend generous credits and sign bilateral trade agree-
ments. Although Herrera continued these initiatives
and included the Dominican Republic in its cash-loan
program for oil purchases, he kept his distance from
the political interests of the PRD. Even out of office,
P6rez remained the most popular international figure
among Dominicans.” 1
REPORT ON THE AMERICAS 32Relations with Cuba had been repaired after 1976
with Carlos Andrts acting as intermediary between
Havana and Washington in exchange for Cuban
promises not to intervene in the West Indian islands
close to Venezuela. But times had changed, and
Cuban-Venezuelan relations had cooled considerably.
The icy winds blowing from Washington were partly responsible, but more important were two unresolved
problems between Caracas and Havana.
One was an incident in 1980 in which Cuban na-
tionals had sought asylum in Venezuela’s Havana Embassy. The other was the lingering problem of the detention of suspects from the 1976 Cubana airliner
bombing. In the first case, the Cubans refused to allow the would-be refugees safe passage out of the country; in the second, the Venezuelan government appeared to be dragging its feet over sentencing the accused terrorists.
A low point was reached in September 1980, when a military court voted to acquit the four men still held. Castro blamed the Herrera Administration for order-
ing the decision and threatened to break relations in the event of a formal acquittal. Again, Venezuela
backed away from the sensitive issue; the men re- mained in jail for the remainder of Herrera’s term. By now the Cuban Embassy in Caracas stood abandoned,
and all but a skeleton staff were pulled out of the
Venezuelan mission in Havana. In the aftermath of
the Falklands/Malvinas crisis, in which Cuba and Venezuela jointly championed the Argentine cause,
discreet informal contacts were resumed. But official
relations remained frosty as long as Herrera stayed in office.
The Herrera government missed no opportunity to show off its anti-Cuban attitudes in public. In Oc-
tober 1980, for example, it allowed 300 Cuban exiles
led by Huber Matos to convene a congress in Cara-
cas, which resolved to “encourage conditions for an
anti-Castro uprising in Cuba” and to open an office in
Caracas. Leading Copeyanos participated openly in the meeting. 1 8
HE MOST CONTROVERSIAL ASPECT OF
Venezuelan foreign policy under Herrera, how-
ever, was the support given to Jose Napole6n Duarte
and his Christian Democratic Party in El Salvador
between 1980 and 1982. While Democratic Action
had been friendly with the Social Democrats who had
briefly participated in the governing coalition at the
end of 1979, COPEI enjoyed ties to the Salvadorean
Christian Democrats that were more than just ideo-
logical and political. During his seven years of exile
VENEZUELA’S FOREIGN AID Venezuela’s International
Multilateral Finance 1974-41
In the first two years of its technical aid program,
Venezuela recycled one-third of its trade surplus,
disbursing $2.3 billion in aid—more than twice the
U.S. commitment to the Alliance for Progress. By
1981 Venezuela had disbursed $5.3 billion out of a
total commitment of $7.5 billion. This represented
2.25% of its GDP, almost eight times the average
proportion of GDP devoted to foreign aid by the
industrialized nations. The late 1970s saw a shift
away from multilateral to bilateral aid.
($ million)
Year Disbursed Committed
1974
1980
816
44
319
293
1415
639
233
392
(multilateral)
(bilateral)
(multilateral)
(bilateral)
After 1981, “adjustments to new realities” forced
a reduction of aid, and in March 1983 aid programs
under the Venezuelan Investment Fund (FIV) were suspended. The bulk of aid from 1981-84 has taken
the form of cash loans for oil purchases.
Recipient
International Monetary Fund
Inter-American Development Bank
World Bank
LAFTA Reciprocal Credit
OPEC Fund
U.N. Special Funds
Securities/Market Bonds
International Fund for
Agricultural Development
Santo Domingo Agreement
Andean Development Corporation
Caribbean Development Bank
Andean Reserve Fund
Central American Integration Bank
Coffee Stabilization
Other International Organizations
TOTAL
Amount
($ million)
962
616
549
351
268
143
94
66
56
54
46
45
40
23
89
3402
Sources: Ministerio de Relaciones Exteriores et al., The Inter- national Cooperation of Venezu e la: Achievements between 1974-
1981, (Caracas, no date); Norman Gall, “The Challenge ofVene-
zuelan Oil,” Foreign Poicy, No. 28, Spring 1975; Venezuelan
periodicals.
JU Y/UG S 33-JULY/AUGUST 33Reoir on z4 AmWers Oil on Troubled Waters
in Venezuela in the 1970s, after his fraudulent elec- toral defeat in 1972, Duarte had developed a strong personal friendship with Herrera, former president
Caldera and ex-foreign minister Calvani. When he
returned to El Salvador in 1979 he was flown into the
Ilopango airport aboard a Venezuelan military air-
craft. 1
Herrera’s emerging partisanship in foreign policy
was given strong encouragement from Washington.
The United States enlisted Venezuelan support for
the new Salvadorean regime when Duarte stepped in
to head the Junta in March 1980. Venezuelan efforts
soon went beyond mere diplomatic and moral sup-
port; by June 1980, AD was charging that Venezuela
was training Salvadorean military and police officers
and covertly shipping arms to the Junta. 2 0 The ac-
cusations were vehemently denied by the government.
As the March 1982 presidential elections drew nearer,
Venezuela placed itself solidly behind the candidacy
of Duarte, while Herrera chastised Washington for
ignoring the threat from the Salvadorean Right.
Herrera’s pleas for moderation did not, however,
extend to the military. Venezuela was by now virtu-
ally the only Latin American ally of the Christian
Democrats in the Junta. It believed that rebel suc-
cesses and an insecure, inefficient military posed the
greatest threat to Duarte’s political future, and there-
fore saw no contradiction in showing support for
Duarte by stepping up covert military assistance.21
NICARAGUA OFFERED THE HERRERA AD-
ministration another clear choice, and an even
better opportunity to break with the policies of P6rez.
Carlos Andr6s, the Sandinistas’ chief international
supporter, left office in March 1979, four months
before the Sandinista victory. His successor quickly
decided to reduce Venezuela’s role in the conflict,
leaving a vacuum that was immediately filled by
Mexico. It was Mexico, not Venezuela, which ac-
celerated the Sandinistas’ victory by breaking dip-
lomatic relations with Somoza in May.
Like the Carter Administration, Caracas began
pressuring the new government to conform to its own
non-revolutionary notions of political freedom. Just
before the Sandinista victory, Nicaraguan Archbishop
Obando y Bravo had traveled to Caracas to confer
with the new COPEI authorities on ways of broaden-
ing and “moderating” the new revolutionary Junta.
During a state visit to Managua in 1980, Herrera
lectured the Sandinistas on the virtues of democracy
and warned ominously that continued aid would de-
pend on efforts by the revolutionary government to
diversify its political base.”22 The stance was an ironic
I
Caracas: a booming capital one: Herrera’s approach in El Salvador scarcely fa- vored power-sharing. By 1981, Venezuela’s qualified support gave way
to a more patently anti-Sandinista posture. Caracas
aligned itself more openly with the conservative
REPORT ON THE AMERICAS 34Church hierarchy in Nicaragua, which had grown
increasingly critical of the revolution, and upgraded
its links with the Nicaraguan Christian Democrats
(nowhere near as potent a force as their Salvadorean
counterparts). At times, the Venezuelan ambassador’s
conduct almost made him seem like an accredited
representative of the small Social Christian Party
(PSC). Party officials, rather than government lead-
ers, would greet the ambassador on his arrival at the
airport and escort him to the embassy. 2 3 In 1981, Jos6
Est6ban Gonzilez, head of Nicaragua’s Permanent
Human Rights Commission and a prominent Chris-
tian Democrat, travelled abroad and issued statements
hostile to the regime. When he was briefly jailed on
his return, the top leadership of COPEI rallied to his
defense. President Herrera even hinted that relations
might be broken over the incident.” 4
ACCORDING TO THE VENEZUELAN JOUR-
nalist Jesuis Puertas, “COPEI and its govern-
ment not only took any opportunity to accuse the
present Nicaraguan regime of totalitarianism but also
attempted to present a project of aiding and counsel-
ling anti-Sandinista parties and groups.” Puertas
states that Guillermo Yepes Boscan, Venezuela’s am-
bassador to Nicaragua until late 1981, “surrounded
himself with those sectors arrayed against the San-
dinista process.” At a public forum to discuss na-
tional problems, the ambassador appeared as an
observer in the section reserved for the political
opposition. 2 ”
It was, to say the least, unusual behavior for a
diplomat. In the ensuing criticism of his conduct, the
conservative daily La Prensa rallied fiercely to his
support. Herrera Campins “on repeated occasions
expressed his affinity with La Prensa,” and the em-
bassy established a close working relationship with
its editors. Ambassador Yepes’ frequent talks at op-
position group headquarters were published regularly
in the paper, along with articles praising the Vene-
zuelan regime and its political model. 2 6
In August 1981 Yepes decorated Archbishop Oban-
do y Bravo with the prestigious Order of Francisco
Miranda. In the ceremony, Yepes praised the now
actively anti-Sandinista bishop as “a champion of
democracy” in a speech heavily covered inLa Prensa.
Yepes was recalled from Nicaragua in late 1981; the
Nicaraguan private enterprise confederation COSEP
sponsored his farewell dinner. 2 7
The ambassador pulled out just in time, for in
January 1982 an ugly incident threatened to jeopardize
Venezuelan-Nicaraguan relations. The Sandinistas
uncovered a plot by the counterrevolutionary UDN-
FARN to blow up an oil refinery and a cement plant.
Papers found on the leader of the plot, William Bal-
todano-alias Comandante R6mulo–revealed that
one of the captured conspirators was a Venezuelan
citizen, Julio Gonzilez Ferr6n, whose documents
identified him as an agent of Venezuelan Military
Intelligence (DIM).28
On January 12, Nicaraguan Interior Minister To-
mis Borge announced that an official residence of the
Venezuelan mission had been used as a rendezvous
for planning the sabotage. He further charged five
embassy personnel, including military and commer-
cial attaches, with active collaboration with the con-
tras, “picking them up at their hiding places in em-
bassy vehicles. “”
Fearful that Venezuela would use the incident and
Nicaragua’s response as an excuse to break relations
and suspend vital oil shipments, Foreign Minister
Miguel D’Escoto was dispatched to Caracas to talk
directly to Herrera before the Sandinistas disclosed
their findings publicly. To minimize the embarrass-
ment to Venezuela, Borge took pains to reiterate that
Nicaragua did not see the plotters as representative of their government’s position “of friendship and soli-
darity with Nicaragua.” Even Gonzilez Ferr6n was
dismissed as an agent of the CIA, not the DIM, “be-
cause the friendly government of Venezuela would
not send a spy here.” 3 I
After this pantomime, however, the Herrera gov-
ernment gave evidence in 1982 of hardening its line
against Nicaragua. It accepted observer status in the
Central American Democratic Community, a short-
lived alliance of El Salvador, Honduras and Costa
Rica which Washington put together to isolate Nica-
ragua. In April 1982 Venezuela took part in the joint
Ocean Venture 82 naval exercises in the Caribbean
with the United States, Honduras, Argentina and Brazil.
Foreign Minister Zambrano summed up the gov-
ernment’s position in a speech the same month at the
military’s Institute of Higher Studies:
We oppose violent formulas which attempt to channel the Latin American process into ab- solutist and totalitarian roads. The so-called revolutionary processes which have developed on the American continent cannot be termed wars of liberation.
This language made for a natural dovetailing of
policies with Washington. Zambrano concluded,
“There are political coincidences in our positions…
[but] even the divergences do not constitute an in-
superable barrier for the co-ordination of efforts and
working in common.”

1978-82: EXPORTING IDEOLOGY
1. Demetrio Boersner, “El Caribe” in Perfiles Inter-
nacionales, p. 38. See also Donald L. Herman, Christian
Democracy in Venezuela, (Chapel Hill Press, University of
North Carolina, 1980).
2. Author’s interviews with Demetrio Boersner and Juan
Jos6 Monsant, Caracas, January 1, 1984.
3. Author’s interview with Demetrio Boersner, Cara-
cas, January 12, 1984.
4. Demetrio Boersner, “Cuba y Venezuela: Conflicto y
convivencia,” in Andr6s Serbin, ed., Geopolitica de las
relaciones de Venezuela con el Caribe, (ASOVAC, Cara-
cas, 1983), pp. 176-77.
5. John D. Martz, “Venezuela,” in Jack W. Hopkins,
ed., Latin America and Caribbean Contemporary Record,
(Holmes and Meier, New York, 1983), Vol. I, p. 378.
6. Leslie Manigat, “Geopolitica de las relaciones entre
Venezuela y el Caribe: problemiitica general y problemas,’
in Serbin, ed., op. cit., pp. 49-50.
7. Harold E. Davis and Larman C. Wilson, Latin Ameri-
can Foreign Policies: An Analysis, (Johns Hopkins Press,
Baltimore, 1975), pp. 428-29.
8. Steve Ellner, “F-16s for Caracas,” Commonweal,
March 26, 1982; Manigat, op. cit., p. 50; Martz, “Vene-
zuela,” in Hopkins, op. cit., p. 381.
9. Martz, “Venezuela,” in Hopkins, op. cit., p. 381.
10. “Llegaron los F-16,” Sic, (Caracas) December
1983, p. 467.
11. Stockholm International Peace Research Institute
Yearbook 1984, (Stockholm, SIPRI, 1984).
12. Boersner, “El Caribe,” op. cit., p. 38.
13. Vaughan A. Lewis, “The Commonwealth Carib-
bean,” in Christopher Lapham, ed., Foreign Policy Mak-
ing in Developing States, (Praeger Books, New York,
1979), pp. 110-130.
14. The New York Times, July 8, 1984.
15. Mirlande Hippolyte de Manigat, “Venezuela, la
CARICOM y la integraci6n del Caribe,” in Serbin, op.
cit., p. 106.
16. John D. Martz, “Ideology,” in Erisman and Martz,
op. cit. pp. 124, 130.
17. Boersner, “Cuba y Venezuela” in Serbin, op. cit.,
pp. 177-178; Diario de Caracas, March 8, 1984.
18. Martz, “Ideology,” op. cit., p. 132.
19. Robert D. Bond, “Venezuelan Policy” in Feinberg,
op. cit., pp. 195-196; author’s interview with Juan Jose
Monsant, Caracas, January 12, 1984.
20. Cynthia Arnson and Delia Miller, “Update: Back-
ground Information on El Salvador,” Resource, (Institute
for Policy Studies, Washington, D.C., June, 1980), p. 9.
21. Cynthia Arnson, “Update No. 8: Background Infor-
mation on U.S. Policy,” Resource, (Institute for Policy
Studies, Washington, D.C., March, 1983), p. 11; Foreign
Broadcast Information Service (FBIS), February 16, 1983,
p. 8.
22. Bond in Feinberg, op. cit., p. 194.
23. Author’s interview, Caracas, January, 1984.
24. Jestis Puertas, “La politica de COPEI y su gobierno
para con Nicaragua,” Sic, November, 1981.
25. Ibid.
26. Ibid.
27. Ibid.
28. Barricada Internacional, (Managua, Nicaragua),
January 30, 1984.
29. “Las denuncias de Tomis Borge,” Sic, February,
1982; pp. 91-92.
30. Ibid.