- Opinion
- 18 Mar 14
Venezuela's descent into chaos has accelerated in recent months, sending many of the country's educated middle-class fleeing abroad. With Ireland now home to a sizable Venezuelan community, one ex-pat outlines the full horror of life in the post-Chavez regime.
A fortnight ago hundreds of people descended on Dublin’s O’Connell Street to noisily protest against government corruption, spiralling unemployment, poor housing, declining educational standards, an alarming rise in crime and a general sense that the country is going to hell in a handcart.
We’d love to report this as being a sign of the Irish masses finally mobilising against Enda-style austerity, but all bar a handful of them were Venezuelan. They weren’t alone with simultaneous demonstrations taking place in 16 other European capitals including Madrid, Paris, Lisbon, Barcelona and London where, in addition to their country’s embassy, angry expats gathered outside the BBC who they accused of downplaying the violent civil unrest that’s spread throughout Venezuela this past month.
At least 50 people have died whilst participating in opposition rallies – the police and army prefer to call them “riots” – which Hugo Chavez’s successor, President Nicolás Maduro, says are part of a US-bankrolled “fascist plot” to overthrow the government.
“The far-right wants to bring us to a dog fight, set our people at war, one against another,” claims the 51-year-old former bus driver and trade unionist. “There will be no coup d’etat in Venezuela, you can rest assured.”
In his next public pronouncement, Maduro threatened to expel CNN from the country for spreading “war propaganda” against the left-wing United Socialist Party coalition that Chavez put together following his 2006 presidential re-election.
Advertisement
Maduro’s view of what’s going on at the moment isn’t shared by a twentysomething we’ll call Isabell who was one of the O’Connell Street demonstrators. Originally she was prepared for her real name to be used, but has since requested a pseudonym for fear that her comments might endanger her family back home. When you hear her story you’ll understand why.
“Maduro talks of ‘war propaganda’ whilst ignoring the fact that his government has shut all of Venezuela’s independent media down including, for a time last week, Twitter,” Isabell claims. “The textbooks given to children when they start school have been re-written, so that from the age of six or seven they’re getting only the government position. When an opposition leader says, ‘This has to stop’, like Leopoldo López did last week, he’s stuck in jail and not allowed to see anyone except his family. If and when he’s tried, it’ll be in a court system that’s totally controlled by the government.”
López, who leads the Popular Party, has been accused by President Maduro of being a CIA stooge and causing the deaths of three people at a recent anti-government rally. The terrorism and murder charges initially levelled at him have now been changed to instigating arson, damage and criminal gatherings. The 42-year-old, who voluntarily surrendered to police, denies any wrong-doing.
Isabell, who comes from a middle-class Caracas background, says her mum and dad welcomed Hugo Chavez when he came to power in 1998.
“Like everyone else, they were fed up with the same old politicians making promises that they never kept. Chavez represented change, so people voted for him even though they didn’t know what this ‘change’ was going to be. He didn’t say, ‘I’m going to closely align myself with Castro and give Cuba free petroleum in return for them sending us medicine and doctors who’ll take the jobs of the Venezuelan ones we already have.’ We didn’t know that he’d fire the head of every big company and replace them with his own people. With no prospects, professionals started to emigrate en masse from Venezuela in 2010, like they’d done from Cuba in 1960. So much money was being taken out of the country that they had to introduce exchange control. At first it was a limit on how many Venezuelan bolivar you can change into dollars; now they’re saying, ‘You can’t take any money out of your account if you’re overseas.’
“Suddenly there were food shortages – there’s still no rice or milk in the supermarkets – because the people running those industries were government appointees rather than experts. He provided the needy with social welfare through the Bolivarian Missions, which is a good thing obviously, but didn’t create any jobs so the economy stagnated. America didn’t cause that, Chavez and Maduro did.”
The government hasn’t released migration statistics since 1996, but independent observers suggest that 530,000 Venezuelans have left the country since 2000. The MeQuieroIr.Com (“I want to leave”) website puts the tally at twice that.
Advertisement
For all of its financial woes – in six months there have been three currency devaluations – it was Venezuela’s descent into virtual lawlessness that made Isabell decide to leave last year and head to Dublin where friends of hers were already studying.
“97% of the cases reported to the police in Venezuela go unsolved,” she resumes. ‘Even during the day, there’s nowhere in Caracas where I feel completely safe. Five people I know have been killed, two of them in the same month. A friend of my mother’s was driving his car when he got a tat-tat-tat on the window from somebody on a motorcycle. He knew what that meant, so he immediately stopped and said, ‘Just let me take my baby out of the back and I’ll give you the keys.’ The robber went, ‘It doesn’t hurt you I’m taking your car? Perhaps this will…’ and shot the baby. In the other incident, one of my friends who was with his girlfriend was chased by a guy on a motorcycle as he drove away from a baseball stadium. He tried to outrun them but his car flipped and, as they were hanging there upside down in their seats, the robber knowing he wasn’t going to get anything walked over and shot him in the head. That was a year ago and nobody’s been questioned or charged. People have stopped reporting crimes to the police because they don’t do anything.”
The independent Venezuela Violence Observatory say that there were 24,763 murders in the country last year – over ten thousand more than in the US, which has ten times the population. Mortuaries are overflowing and many graveyards have run out of plots. Despite the government banning the private ownership of firearms in 2012, the only newspaper openly critical of President Morado that’s still in business, El Nacional, claims that there are at least 15 million illegally held guns in circulation.
“There are barrios, like the Brazilian favelas, on the sides of the mountains overlooking Caracas where it’s more common for people to have guns than not to have guns,” she adds. “They don’t have enough money to live so they rob and kill. With all the petroleum and other natural resources we have Venezuela should be rich, but I’ve never received a cheque from the government!”
From Chile and Panama to El Salvador and Nicaragua, modern history is strewn with examples of the US not allowing Latin American countries to sort out their own problems.
Responding to President Maduro’s charges this week that elements within the Pentagon and CIA are plotting to kill him, Secretary of State John Kerry said: “Regrettably, President Maduro keeps choosing to blame the United States for things we are not doing or for things that they are unhappy about in their own economy and in their own society.”
Older readers might remember that was exactly the sort of rhetoric coming out of the White House in the early ‘80s when Oliver North was channeling funds to Contra rebels in a bid to depose democratically elected Nicaraguan president Daniel Ortega.
Advertisement
“Just because I’m anti-Maduro doesn’t mean I’m pro-American,” Isabell stresses. “They’re not angels – we’ve seen their actions in many, many countries. They can be invasive; not in an attempt to help, but to look after their own political and economic interests. Parts of the opposition are definitely being funded by them, which is wrong. Venezuela’s problems should be solved by Venezuelans.”
Is it being too black and white to call Nicolás Maduro a dictator?
“I didn’t consider it an open dictatorship during Chavez’s time because at least we had a couple of opposition newspapers and radio stations. You could express yourself a little bit whereas now you have police taking off their helmets and beating people over the head for demonstrating. There are videos of this on YouTube. It’s not like in other countries where they try to hide it; they want you to know so you’re scared. Maduro locks up his political opponents and doesn’t let them have access to their lawyers so, yes, he’s 100% a dictator.”
Are the Catholic Church a player in all of this?
“No, they’re anti-the government but haven’t taken a strong stand. Chavez didn’t attack the Catholic Church because he knows how popular they are with Venezuelans, and they decided to not really attack back.”
While several senior army officers have criticised the President’s handling of the crisis, Isabell reckons there’s little likelihood of a coup attempt from within.
“The government has raised military salaries four times in a year and given them houses and food, so the army are happy with the way things are. Maybe that will change, but for the time being they’e on Maduro’s side.”
Asked whether there’s anything about the Hugo Chavez-era she misses, Isabell says, “Yes, the sense of hope we had when he was first elected and his TV programme.”
Advertisement
What, his live Sunday night ‘state of the nation’ address, which regularly clocked in at over five hours?
“It’s terrible,” she giggles, “but we made up drinking games! Chavez was a really eloquent guy, but he had these words and slogans he kept on repeating. Every time he said ‘El imperiallismo memo’ – ‘The imperialist itself’ – you had to do a shot, and ‘Fascimo’ – ‘You’re a fascist’ – meant two shots. We got very drunk! It was important to watch Aló Presidente though because that’s where he announced everything he was going to do during the week.”
On a final personal note, how are Isabell’s family getting on back home in Caracas? “They’re okay, thank God, but I really fear for my 18-year-old sister,” she says tearily. “Last week a beauty queen was shot dead at a demonstration in our third largest city, Valencia. Nobody, not even women and children, are safe at the moment.”