Chavez and Venezuela

Michael Marra

In a former seminary on the southern side of Caracas' central plaza is a large gilt-edged fresco. In style and composition it pays homage to that more famous work in the Sistine Chapel: God touching man amid a chorus of angels. Yet the human figure that dominates the ceiling of this national museum in Venezuela's capital puts the deity to shame. Simon Bolivar is borne on the backs of cherubs to receive, or perhaps to give, his blessing.

This somewhat gaudy and ill-executed work is just a small indication of the reverence that this third world nation holds for El Libertador. Bolivar's wars of liberation against the Spanish have set him at the heart of this nation's history and the heart of every Venezuelan city. No matter where you travel in the most northerly country of South America, in every town and every city, you find the ubiquitous Plaza Bolivar.

This is the sentiment and the history that the current leader of the nation Hugo Chavez so regularly invokes as he leads his `Bolivarian Revolution'. It is a strange phenomenon to see a man that has been dead something shy of two hundred years dominating the headlines of newspapers, the graffiti on city walls and the protest slogans locals daub in white paint on the rear windows of their cars. But this is an overtly political country bitterly divided around the figure of Chavez, where everyone has an opinion on his policies, the way he dresses, the slang of the working classes with which he peppers his speeches. Chavez has made the name of Bolivar part of the modern political lexicon.

Hugo Chavez is a performer of the highest order. His regular television addresses show a man at ease with his public, even if many are not at ease with him. He would put any professional British television presenter to shame. A hugely accomplished speaker, he wanders across the studio pointing to graphics on large screens and gesturing to the cameras as he extols his Bolivarian virtues of national pride, self-determination and renewal. Many complain that he digresses frequently into anecdote and humorous aside.

Just as many love every moment of it. This is a man who has reputedly modelled himself on Tony Blair. The sharp suits and the gesture politics are certainly recognisable. But the leftist politics of Chavez are as alien to Blair as the sentiments of Labour Party members are to the British premier.

If a nation's international standing was defined by its relationship with America, and regrettably today's reality is that is often the case, then Venezuela is a leper stranded on a desert island. Chavez is avowedly anti-US. He is equally as avowedly internationalist, devoting large portions of his time to building coalitions with South American and Caribbean neighbours. That kind of activity goes down badly in Washington. Colin Powell has recently been calling for Chavez to face a half-term recall vote "as an important step toward preserving Democracy, Devolution". Or in other words, to kick out Chavez in favour of the old pro-US, pro-business regime. Venezuelan oil puts the country firmly on the US's radar.

Efforts from the Bush -administration to increase strategic oil reserves to cushion the US from price rises and OPEC's resistance to increased production has sharpened the US focus on Venezuelan affairs over the last few months. Hence the Secretary of State's attention.

The high corporate politics of oil have a direct impact on the workers in the street, as the people of Iraq well know. The politics of oil has brought men and women to the streets of Caracas and other Venezuelan cities on an increasingly regular basis and in increasingly greater numbers in recent years. Three days of protests that forced Chavez back into power last year after he was ousted by a military coup are the greatest example. The normally headstrong and commanding Chavez was left bewildered and speechless by the strength of the demand for his reinstatement. The coup had been sparked by the President's purge of the state oil company's executives, a group he rightly believed to be rather more concerned with the needs of the United States than he himself was. Protests against and in support of the President have become frequent events. During my visit in June the half term recall issue that loomed in August was expected to bring the largest protests yet to the streets. Miguel is in his mid-fifties. He sells shots of typically strong and sweet coffee in a park in the northern city of Merida. He told me that no matter which way the vote went there would be "anarchy". "There is real hatred for Chavez and real love for Chavez. If he wins those against him will riot, if he loses those for him will riot. People will die."

That is the nature of Chavez's rule. His `revolution' is a populist campaign that calls to the poor for support and damns the interests of the rich oil establishment. The President's moves towards greater protectionism within the economy have hit the rich hard.

The sight of the poor descending from the shanty towns on the mountain slopes surrounding the Caracas valley to protest in the streets has struck fear into the hearts of the prosperous who have grown fat on the profits of the mono-economy. There is no doubt that the opposition is determined but they are not unified. There is no leader for the opposition that cannot be tied directly to the old regime, making them an easy target for Chavez's rhetorical fire. Miguel was probably right in saying that whichever way the half term recall vote goes there will be trouble; that now seems to be the way for Venezuelan governance. But most of the more affluent nationals I spoke to seemed to want to leave the country as opposed to retaking control. Kumi, an accountant from the capital city was holidaying in Puerto Colombia on the Caribbean cost when I met her and two friends. It was a going away party for them as Kumi was leaving a week later for Japan where her mother was born and had returned to some months previous "The country is different now," she told me, "I still love Venezuela, it is so beautiful but I am scared to go out. Not just at night, but during the day as well." In Kumi's mind there is only one man to blame. Her only solution: to up and leave.

The force of the masses is holding Venezuela in its grip. At the ballot box Chavez may not have the support with which he stormed the Presidential race in the 1990s. The affections of his more moderate supporters are being soured by life in such a divided state, but the incumbent is still a long way from losing any election. Mumba, a native Indian of seventeen from the vast Guayana state in the west of the country told me that the indigenous people know that Chavez is a man of gestures, but that they do believe he has helped them a little, whereas previously they were ignored entirely. And anyway, "who else is there?" said Mumba.

The answer to Mumba's question is not a pleasant one. There is no one personality who can challenge Chavez's domination of the political landscape, the ghost of Bolivar by his side. But there are other forces in Venezuela. Before Chavez hammered open the door of the Presidential palace with the ballot box, he tried dropping through the roof with a gun in his hand. In 1992 the paratrooper Hugo Chavez attempted a coup the likes of which he was the temporary victim of a decade later. It is almost unbelievable to think that having attempted to ignore Democracy, Devolution in so blatant a manner there could be a political future for Chavez within a few
short years. So coups are not aberrations in this divided country, they are something of the norm.

Venezuelan Independence Day falls the day after that of the United States. On Friday 4th July the American cable news channels were flooded with the militaristic hubris of the victor at which the United States excels. The tributes to `our boys in Iraq' and the offers of `The Road to Baghdad' on a four-piece DVD set gave scant regard to the still warm bodies of dead civilians. Early Saturday morning I was woken by the horns of armoured personnel carriers, the rhythmic trudge of marching boots and the screaming engine of a tank. On the back of a flat bed truck troops of the Venezuelan army in full jungle camouflage and face paint scoured the streets with their neyes as they cradled machine guns, a bazooka and mortar cannon. There was a challenging look in their eyes that I made sure I did not meet from my window. The Americans might have to spend $34.99 to bring the images of war to their homes, but on Venezuelan Independence Day locals get to see the real thing.

It is not an unfamiliar sight. If Chavez does not check the forces against him, does not unify more of his country behind his `revolution' then programmes to promote literacy and attempts to bring about a more equal Venezuela will fall by the wayside. He may find that next time his departure will last longer than the three days he spent in the wilderness last time around.