As this is written in mid-January, Venezuela’s fourth business-led general strike in a year is into its seventh week. At least five people have died; emotions and tensions run high, as does the possibility for further violence. The strike is led by an opposition umbrella group called Democratic Coordinator, the same coalition of business, union and political party forces that briefly forced President Hugo Chávez from office last April. Unlike the previous general strikes, this one enjoys the participation of most of the managers and a good many workers from the country’s crucial—and privileged—oil industry.
The strikers have been deliberately provocative, shutting down economic activity on an ongoing basis, and holding demonstrations in prohibited areas; their avowed aim is to build sufficient pressure to force Chávez from office. The government has responded in kind, using tear gas and plastic bullets on various occasions, frequently to disperse demonstrators from prohibited “security zones” in front of sites deemed sensitive by the government—the oil company headquarters, for example.
The events of last April showed how intensely pro and anti-Chávez sentiment divides the population and, significantly, the armed forces. On December 6, the fifth day of the current strike, a Portuguese immigrant with no apparent political ties opened fire on a festive anti-Chávez crowd at Plaza Altamira, a site of daily anti-Chávez rallies, killing three demonstrators, including a teenage girl. The killings inflamed all sides, cranked up the already high level of political confrontation, gave birth to an industry of conspiracy speculation about the true identity and motives of Joao de Gouveia, the mysterious Oswald-like assassin, and gave notice—if additional notice was needed—that Venezuela’s armed-camp violence might be on the verge of spiraling out of control. Since then, two pro-Chávez demonstrators have been shot dead in a clash of opposing rallies in Caracas.
The opposition’s only demand at this point is that Chávez resign immediately and a new presidential election be scheduled as quickly as possible. The government, citing a provision in the constitution, has offered to hold a referendum halfway through Chávez’s term this coming August on whether to call an early election. The opposition, seeking to drive Chávez from office immediately, is still insisting that a referendum on his rule be held in early February. Some in the opposition are seeking to promote a constitutional amendment that would shorten the presidential term and allow for an early election.
Such an amendment would have to be approved by a majority of congress. Amendment proponents would then have to gather sufficient signatures to force a referendum on the measure; a successful referendum would then force a presidential vote. Chávez has told “moderates” within the opposition that the government would accept the results of a successful amendment drive—a drive he would oppose, of course—but that, in any case, the earliest the process could play itself out would be next summer. While most analysts say an early “yes-no” referendum would be won by the opposition, it is by no means clear that the diverse opposition could come up with a flesh-and-blood candidate who could defeat Chávez in an election.
Concerned that the spiraling conflict might undermine their own tenuous stability—Chávez’s approval rating has plummeted, but his 35% rating is still about average for a Latin American head of state—Latin American governments have committed resources to a negotiated, constitutional resolution to the conflict. Concerned that Venezuela’s oil keep flowing, Washington has put aside its dislike for Chávez and is currently backing the ongoing negotiations between the government and opposition being mediated by César Gaviria, the ex-president of Colombia who is Secretary General of the Organization of American States. The negotiations are sponsored by the OAS, the UN Development Program and the Carter Center, a nongovernmental organization headed by former U.S. President Jimmy Carter.
At the moment discussions are focused on attempts to reach an agreement on the form and timing of a popular referendum or early elections, on means to disarm the heavily armed population and on the establishment of a “truth commission” to look into the events of the coup and countercoup of April 11-14.
In December, the importance given to these negotiations by a broad spectrum of Latin American leaders was underscored by the decision of Brazil’s President-elect Lula da Silva to send his chief foreign policy advisor to Venezuela to help the mediation efforts. Since then, Brazil has been instrumental in putting together an international “Friends of Venezuela” group that would include Brazil, the United States, Mexico, Chile, Spain and Portugal, and might help to mediate the conflict. As we write, the implementation and proper functioning of such a group is under discussion.
The Bush administration’s role has been in constant flux. Having celebrated Chávez’s brief removal from power last April, the U.S. Embassy in Caracas issued a statement in September in which it insisted that Washington would not support another interruption in constitutional rule in Venezuela. Given the U.S. government’s quick support of the short-lived coup-installed government—and continued speculation as to the extent to which U.S. officials may have been involved in the coup plot itself—the statement surprised many and led to a round of editorials in Venezuela’s opposition press critical of the U.S. change-of-heart. A variety of factors may account for the shift in policy, and the Bush administration clearly used its new-found leverage with the Chávez government to its advantage.
Perhaps of greatest importance, Washington quickly secured an agreement with President Chávez to ensure a continued flow of oil to the United States—though between September and January, Venezuela’s general business stoppage has cut the flow to a trickle. The Bush administration’s support for the coup-installed government was severely criticized across the region, but it may now be trying to make amends as Washington prepares for war against Iraq. The United States not only needs to maintain its oil supply, but is looking for stability beyond its southern border and for the support of Latin American governments for the war effort.
While Washington may be willing to postpone its desire for a regime shift in Venezuela, neighboring Colombia does remain a top priority. In late September an official U.S. delegation sought a reversal of Chávez’s refusal to allow U.S. surveillance planes to fly over Venezuelan airspace. President Chávez subsequently agreed to the U.S. flights, key for U.S. intelligence-gathering efforts in Colombia, and may be negotiating other points with Washington regarding operations along its extended border with Colombia.
In early December, with the viability of Chavez’s government increasingly called into question, the U.S. government once again threw its political weight behind the opposition, publicly calling for early elections. Under criticism that immediate, new elections would be unconstitutional, Washington reversed course again and appeared to endorse a popular referendum. In short, Washington clearly prefers to see Chávez go, but also does not want increased political instability in Venezuela to jeopardize the flow of oil or its other regional interests. Concerns remain regarding what covert U.S. assistance may presently be going to the Venezuelan opposition.
Hugo Chávez came to prominence when he led an attempted coup on February 4, 1992. The coup of mid-level officers and a subsequent military attempt in November of that year, inspired by the then-imprisoned Chávez, were not seen by most Venezuelans—and especially not by poor Venezuelans—as conventional military attempts to seize power, but rather as attacks against a system that had become corrupt and elitist and no longer able to deliver on its promises. The population showed no inclination to support a coup—and in fact displayed a remarkably strong commitment to the country’s democratic institutions—but it was widely commented at the time that the failed coup succeeded in bringing large numbers of new participants—particularly from among the poor—into the political process, changing the climate and structure of Venezuelan politics. Pardoned by President Rafael Caldera in 1994, Chávez formed his own political party, the Fifth Republic Movement (MVR), and successfully ran for president in 1998.
Not only have popular movements been energized by the Chávez presidency, but Chávez has been intent on replacing the old political class with a new set of players loyal to the revolution he has vowed to lead in the name of the South American liberator, Simón Bolívar. His “Bolivarian Revolution” has created two sets of displaced enemies: the economic elites, grouped around the Chamber of Commerce (Fedecámaras), and the old political class, many of whom are affiliated with the once-dominant social democratic party Democratic Action (AD) and its affiliated Confederation of Venezuelan Workers (CTV). This accounts for the uneasy alliance of the opposition—an uneasiness that widened into the rupture that undermined the April coup. It also accounts for the apparent paradox that ideology by itself does not dictate one’s position within the Venezuelan political landscape. Among the old political class, for example, are trade union and social democratic actors now excluded from power and determined to regain their old privilege.
Chávez has a remarkably strong rapport with the poor. His long televised speeches are typically aimed at the poor; he carefully explains world events, basic geography and national politics in ways that include people who have typically been left out of the political debates and create a sense that “Chávez is our president.” For many of his middle class opponents, the speeches are patronizing, repetitive and demagogic, but for the historically excluded, Chavismo has attempted to democratize power; it has struggled for a politics of respect, dignity and social rights.
In the current geopolitical context, Chávez’s rapport with the poor—the inclusion of the excluded—is more than symbolic. Neoliberal globalization, the model Chávez has vowed to combat, is based on the discipline and exclusion from decision-making of poor and working populations. An inclusive political-economic program is antithetical to a neoliberal economic program based on the maximum freedom and mobility of global (and to a lesser extent national) capital. While Chávez has yet to develop such an inclusive program, the “inclusion” of the poor is frightening to those who advocate neoliberal development for Venezuela. The neoliberals form a significant part of the opposition, principally in the faction associated with the Chamber of Commerce-led “coup within the coup” last April.
Venezuela has not had a credible model of development since its oil boom faded and its foreign debt reached the limits of manageability in the mid 1980s; the country’s economy has suffered from an extended decline ever since. In that context, Venezuela’s immediate crisis is embedded in a much deeper crisis of much longer duration. In the short term the country faces a crisis of governability and political tolerance. In the long term there is a crisis of sustainable, equitable economic growth and development. The two crises are intertwined, but the short-term crisis is explosive and dominates the political discourse on both sides. In the short term, the principal discourse of all participants in the political debate focuses on “democracy” and “political tolerance,” with both sides accusing each other of violence and intolerance.
Beyond the important questions of class, the political opposition, comprised mainly of the non-poor, objects to Chávez’s inflammatory and revolutionary rhetoric, his personalistic and authoritarian style, and what they claim to be his gross mismanagement of the Venezuelan economy. Many point to problems with an ineffective and at times inoperable public administration, which they view as having led to a situation of ungovernability. The most visible and hard-line sectors of the political opposition maintain that by acting in an authoritarian manner, the government has forfeited constitutional legitimacy; they see the immediate ousting of the president as the only option. Since the political opposition is divided between economic elites and the old displaced political class, however, there may be no one leader who could eventually take on Chávez at the polls.
Owned and controlled by the hard-line opposition, much of the print and television media have become protagonists in the conflict. Far from providing fair and accurate reporting, the media by and large seek to provoke popular discontent and outrage in support of its political position. The media often refers to the government as the “Taliban” and appears to be purposely avoiding any regular coverage of President Chávez or government events. News stories are frequently written in the future tense, playing on the fears of the readership. These stories function as auguries rather than reports of actual events: For example, this past September, the mass circulation El Nacional headlined the imminent closing of a daily paper by Chávez. Upon reading the story, the closing of a paper turned out to be the dire prediction of a visiting Argentine journalist. No official persecution of the press or journalists is evident in Venezuela; there is no overt censorship and no paper or television station has been closed.
Following Chávez’s verbal attacks on the press, however, working journalists have been roughed up and equipment belonging to reporters, newspapers and broadcast media has been damaged. So while freedom of expression is strong, the freedom of reporters to practice their profession has been compromised. The perpetrators of this anti-press violence seem to be informally organized activists perhaps mixed with petty criminals; the violence is disowned by the government. Chávez’s supporters say he got along well with the press at first, even as the press began to attack the government. His discourse, they say, turned progressively sharp and bitter when the media campaign turned in a direction he considered racist and defamatory. Whatever the origins of the media-government antagonism, it has become a key part of the ominous spiral of confrontation and intolerance.
Pro-Chávez forces say that the president is confronting a corrupt and discredited political system and that he is promoting the interests of the poor majority. They say he is the point of departure for the reconstruction of an honest and progressive Venezuelan political class. His opponents say he is precisely the culmination of the deterioration of the old political class itself. The old parties are discredited, though the social democratic Democratic Action retains a certain institutional coherence and influence. The social Christian Copei has virtually disappeared. Chávez’s initial popularity was based on his willingness to confront the old live-off-the-oil-rent politics of inefficiency, clientism and corruption. The decline of his popularity rests not only in his abrasive personality, but in the long-term crisis of sustainable economic development in Venezuela and virtually all of Latin America.
ABOUT THE AUTHORS
Fred Rosen, NACLA’s former director, is a journalist based in New York and Mexico City. Coletta Youngers is senior associate at the Washington Office on Latin America. They participated in a Global Exchange-NACLA delegation to Caracas from September 21 to September 28, 2002, meeting with a wide range of individuals and organizations, including those sympathetic to the opposition and to the Chávez government; government officials, including Vice President José Vicente Rangel; union leaders; members of Bolivarian circles; and representatives of the media. They are grateful to Martin Austermuhle and Ron Smith, fellow members of the delegation, and to Enrique González, a Venezuelan human rights activist, for helpful comments on the first draft of this article.
