Dubbed “Hurricane Hugo”, he overturned the establishment, galvanised a nation and seized world attention.
Hugo Chávez took power a decade ago today and remains at the helm of a self-styled socialist revolution that has transformed Venezuela into a beacon for the left and a nuisance to the United States.
The energetic former tank commander’s approval ratings have declined from a 2006 peak, but remain over 50%. His face gazes down from billboards and murals, his voice thunders on radio and TV, his slogans are on T-shirts, buses and government buildings. Venezuela has been called “The Hugo Chávez Show”.
The inauguration anniversary, however, falls at an awkward moment. Plunging oil prices threaten Venezuela’s economy; George Bush’s retirement has removed a useful imperialist hate object. A resurgent opposition may kill moves to allow Chávez’s indefinite re-election in a February 15 referendum, which polls show hangs in the balance.
“This is a dangerous moment for Chávez. He’s hitting serious economic and political obstacles,” said one Western diplomat.
Chávez hopes his record will earn a mandate to rule for another decade — or even until 2030. “No going back! Nothing will stop our revolution!” he told a recent rally.
His proudest boasts are that he has eased poverty and deepened democracy. Critics challenge both claims, accusing the government of squandering an unprecedented oil boom and driving Venezuela towards authoritarianism.
“Never in our history have we had a government with such immense resources at its disposal,” said Teodoro Petkoff, editor of Tal Cual, an opposition newspaper. “But the roots of poverty have not been tackled. And all power is concentrated in the fist of the president.”
The official case is set out in a document titled Achievements in 10 Years of Revolution. It says a third of the population is now classified as poor, compared to half in 1998, that extreme poverty has plunged from 42% to 9,5%, that inequality has narrowed and that Venezuela has risen in the United Nation’s human development index.
The document highlights social programmes known as “missions” that have widened access to health and education and reduced illiteracy, adding that the economy has grown by 526%, unemployment has been halved to 6% and that Venezuela has introduced Latin America’s highest minimum wage, at $372 a month.
Caracas housewife Maria Buillosmil (57) points to the groceries at a subsidised government stall. “Isn’t this wonderful? All this food, and so cheap!”
Sceptics respond with one word: oil. Venezuela is a petro-state that booms and busts according to oil price cycles. Impressive social gains and poverty reduction were recorded during the heady Seventies, but when prices collapsed in the Eighties the ruling elite did little to soften the blow to the poor, leading to riots.
Out of that despair a young army colonel named Hugo Chávez launched a failed coup in 1992 and, after a stint in jail, a successful bid for the presidency.
His good fortune was that oil prices soon began a giddy rise, gushing as much as $400-billion into government coffers over the past decade.
Chávez spread wealth by doubling the state payroll and creating employee-run cooperatives and social missions. But corruption and bureaucratic chaos — ministers rotated with bewildering frequency — atrophied infrastructure and public services. Roads and hospitals deteriorated, a housing shortage worsened and jails remained shockingly overcrowded and violent. Some prisoners languish for years without trial.
Much of the bonanza ended up in the pockets of the old elite and a new chavista ruling class, which binged on cosmetic surgery and record imports of whisky and fancy cars. “Regardless of intentions no [previous] regime has been able to manage these booms to overcome poverty,” said Terry Lynn Karl, author of The Paradox of Plenty, which dissected Venezuela’s oil cycle. “The result is the shortages, inflation and slowing of economic growth that we’re seeing now.”
Venezuela’s inflation rate is 30%, Latin America’s highest. Foreign investment has evaporated and privately run agriculture and manufacturing have withered, leaving the economy dependent on government spending for jobs and growth. Exchange rates and price controls have aggravated shortages of sugar, milk and other staples. The government’s cash cow, state oil company Pdvsa, is struggling to pay its bills.
“A collapse in oil prices means a collapse in the economy because nothing they’ve done is sustainable,” said Pietro Pitts, a Latin Petroleum analyst.
Chávez has warned of belt-tightening but dismissed talk of a $20-billion hole in this year’s budget as scaremongering, insisting the revolution is safe.
Crunch or not, the president has touched millions of poor Venezuelans marginalised and invisible in hillside slums. He shares their brown skin, earthy humour and baseball obsession. Many embrace his blend of Marx, Che Guevara and the 19th-century liberation hero Simon Bolivar.
Money has been funnelled to thousands of newly formed neighbourhood councils. “We were given the resources and chance to run things ourselves and look: we fixed the sewerage, cleared the rubbish and built a new stairwell,” said Ruth Ledezma (57), an activist in a tough district near the presidential palace.
Critics counter that Chávez dominates key institutions such as Parliament, the courts, the military, the state oil company and the central bank. They also accuse him of abusing state resources in election campaigns, mobilising riot police against student protesters and banning opposition leaders from elections. “This is not dictatorship, but you cannot call it democracy,” said Petkoff. “It’s an authoritarian regime.”
In one sense Venezuela is hyper-democratic: there has been an election or referendum every year of the past decade, mostly won by Chávez.
Survivor of a US-backed coup in 2002, he treats each vote as an existential battle against “squealing oligarchs”, “little Yankees”, “fascists” and “coup-mongers”.
The opposition casts him as a tyrannical megalomaniac and the result is extreme polarisation. The president accepted defeat in a 2007 referendum and the loss of Caracas and other cities in last November’s local elections. But he lets proxies attack opponents.
Opposition politicians often find their private phone conversations are tapped and broadcast on state TV to the accompaniment of farm animal noises.
Incoming opposition mayors and governors had their budgets and powers gutted and their offices stripped of computers and furniture. Dozens of activists in red T-shirts and quasi-military gear broke into Caracas city hall three weeks ago, sprayed graffiti and declared it a centre of revolutionary resistance. “This is not an occupation, it’s a social action. We can’t let the fascists take control,” said Luis “Bambam” Rodriguez (32), guarding an entrance covered in Chávez posters.
Police refuse to dislodge the squatters, says the new mayor, Antonio Ledezma. “It’s an attempt to sabotage the new administration,” he said. “The government uses these groups to foment violence.”
A motorbike-riding chavista group stormed the Ateneo theatre to break up an opposition meeting. It threw teargas, roughed up staff and declared the building a “revolutionary military objective”. Police made no arrests.
But in 23 de Enero, a hilltop slum overlooking Caracas and base of the militant La Piedrita (Little Rock), Venezuela finally has a president who cares for the poor and the old elite will not be allowed to undermine him, said Carlos Guacaran (45), a commandante.
“Things we never saw in 50 years: jobs, social programmes, class consciousness, we have them now. The people are with Chávez.” —