Whither Chavismo?

With Hugo Chavez' hospitalization in December for continued cancer treatment, El Comandante's legacy on Venezuela and Latin America, more broadly, has been cause for a lot of speculation (and some hyperventilation).

Julia Sweig at the Council on Foreign Relations has an interesting piece this week that provides a good look at "Chavismo" and its possible legacy should Chavez loss his battle with cancer in Havana. While it provides a good primer on the issue, I think it neglects to some degree the important historical and structural origins or Chavismo--some of which have changed, some persist--that might help gauge the direction of Chavez' movement.

The article leads with a picture of (presumably) a Chavez supporter's banner showing the president side-by-side with an image of Jesus. This pairing or association in the minds or hearts of Chavez supporters is no accident, in fact, it is part of a carefully crafted (dare I say, cult-like) amalgamation of the state, Christ, Chavez, and South American liberation hero Simon Bolivar. But there is more to Chavismo than a cult of personality and more to Venezuelan politics than Chavismo.

A big part of the highly anti-neoliberal, anti-party nature of Chavez' movement is a product of institutional and economic breakdown during the 1980s. Since 1958, two more or less centrist, American-allied political parties ruled Venezuela alternatively: Acción Democratica (AD) and the Christian Social Party (COPEI). Under this system, known as the punto fijo regime, the two parties used substantial oil revenues to drive import-substituted industrialization while activists on the far right and the far left were generally excluded from political participation.

This arrangement was effective (a relative term) through much of the 1970s when oil revenues were high and the party in power could spend lavishly. As with many resource booms though, when oil prices declined in the 1980s not only did revenues crash, but a corrupt and inefficient bureaucracy remained. Failure to address the problems of increasing poverty, deteriorating infrastructure, and skyrocketing foreign debt reached a climax in 1989. Newly reelected president Carlos Andres Pérez responded to the dire economic situation by enacting severe austerity measures as part of his gran viraje (great turnaround). On February 27, in response to these measures and a spike in gas prices in Caracas and around the country, mass protests shattered the political calm that had defined the country for decades. These mass disturbances, known as the Caracazo, resulted in nearly 300 (unofficial counts approached 2000) deaths and laid the groundwork for the decline of punto fijo, despite failing to reverse the measures or turn the administration out of power.

The decade that followed was characterized by continued economic decline, despite deep liberalizing economic reforms. Venezuelans experienced soaring inflation—up to 80 percent in 1989—increased unemployment and a decline of up to 40 percent GDP since the early 1980s, as the state privatized many of its heavy industry and communications assets. The percentage of the population living in poverty rose from approximately 17 percent in 1980 to over 48 percent in 1997. As the economy declined, racial and class cleavages also were exacerbated.

It is hard to overestimate the deep and lasting effect of such decay on a population; these effects, and the resulting backlash were compounded by the structural readjustment programs that the country adopted in the years that followed.

Such were the conditions in the country when Chávez, then a young army officer, led a failed coup against the Pérez administration in February 1992. While the coup failed and Chávez was imprisoned, the young officer was granted a chance to speak to his fellow rebels and to the country. In his speech, Chávez took responsibility for the coup and called on his sympathizers to stand down while at the same time demanding reform. In doing so, Chávez endeared himself to disillusioned Venezuelans and began building a personal political constituency. Moisés Naím, a Venezuelan economist writes, “His televised image conveyed the possibility of change, a break from the political and economic schemes usually blamed for the country’s problems. A new face unrelated to the traditional power structures and offering to guide the nation back to prosperity, equality, and integrity…”

The young army officer’s discourse was particularly effective in the barrios of Caracas and other major cities. These masses of impoverished, disenfranchised barrio-dwellers—the pueblo-pobreza—now make up the backbone of the chavista movement’s goal of implementing a “participatory democracy.” The son of school teachers and a man with some indigenous heritage, Chávez’ credentials with such groups were impeccable.

Chavismo, which has been described as populist, nationalist, and at times militarist, overlaps a with a kind of parallel phenomenon known as Bolivarianismo--an idealized interpretation of “the Liberator” Simón Bolívar’s principles. What it adds to the Chavez portfolio is an ostensibly socialist and a strong pan-Latin American sentiment.

The character of Bolívar in Chávez’ agenda has a largely symbolic but crucially legitimizing function. Chavez has come to invoke the collective memory of Bolívar regularly. In doing so, the president cites Bolívar’s supposedly socialist tendencies. “Every day, in fact, I become more convinced that the evolution of Bolívar’s thought pointed toward socialism. If he had lived a few decades longer, I am absolutely sure he would have become a socialist…”

Chavismo's party structure, "direct" democracy, and constitutional/electoral reforms will have an important impact on Venezuelan politics after Chavez; more on that in a later post.