Venezuelans will vote tomorrow on whether to keep their showy president Hugo Chavez in power, writes Michael McCaughan
Hugo Chavez has a cheerful expression on his cherubic face as he hosts his weekly television show, Aló Presidente (Hello President). Part teacher, part preacher, Chavez reminds me of a chubby, overgrown schoolboy who acts out baseball moves, sings snatches of folk songs, pokes fun at political rivals and takes telephone calls from around the country. The show seems to go on forever but I can't bring myself to turn it off. I am glued to this caged tiger who quotes Marx, Christ and Neruda in one breath, delivers a devastating critique of corporate globalisation in the next and then segues effortlessly into his grandmother's home-made recipe for garlic sauce. The people love him. The programme starts at the same time each Sunday, but no one knows when it will end. Two weeks ago Programme 200 in the series lasted five hours, but Chavez looked like he could just as easily have continued for another five.
A military man, a painter and talented baseball player, Chavez strikes fear into the hearts of the middle classes and hope into the hearts of the poor. All that may end tomorrow, however, as a recall referendum offers Venezuelans the opportunity to vote Chavez out of office.
Hugo Chavez Frias first came to prominence in 1992 when he led a small group of army conspirators in a bid to overthrow President Carlos Andrés Pérez. Chavez called the whole thing off on national television to avoid bloodshed, but swore he would return to finish the job. After a two-year spell in prison, he organised supporters into a nationwide electoral movement which swept him into power in December 1998, promising a peaceful, democratic revolution.
The nation's traditional power brokers held their breath and waited to see how this maverick leader would behave in office. A new constitution was approved by referendum, strengthening labour laws and women's rights and increasing citizen control over state affairs. The displaced political class regrouped into civic organisations, while employer federations united with trade unions linked to the old regime.
By November 2001 the die was cast when 49 new laws imposed sweeping changes that shifted the economic direction of the country in favour of the poor. Chavez increased state control over the oil industry and offered property titles to urban squatters. The US government grumbled at this sudden streak of independence in the backyard as Chavez visited Iraq and Libya on oil business and criticised US aggression in Afghanistan and Iraq.
In April 2002, the mainstream media stage-managed a brief coup d'etat led by dissident army officers and conservative business leaders. Chavez was reinstated by popular demand but opted not to punish the plotters, who struck again six months later with a crippling two-month work stoppage. Divided and discredited, the opposition turned to a presidential recall mechanism which permits citizens to challenge any elected official halfway through office.
The "Democratic Co-ordinator", a coalition of opposition parties, civic groups and employer and worker bodies, gathered 2.6 million signatures, 20% of the electorate, paving the way for tomorrow's vote. After two years in which the opposition claimed that Chavez held onto power through brute force, the referendum appears to have caught them off guard. A set of guidelines issued to opposition activists advised them to refrain from calling Chavez a dictator (he facilitated the recall vote), stop calling him corrupt (the opposition ruled for 40 years and corruption was rife) and tone down allegations of state repression (abuses were routine under previous governments).
The Bush administration has come to terms with China and Libya, but elected democrat Hugo Chavez is persona non grata in the White House. That situation is unlikely to change in November, since George Bush and chief election rival John Kerry are equally hostile to the Venezuelan leader.
The worldwide debate on economic globalisation, national sovereignty and the meaning of citizenship are all being played out on the streets of Caracas. US filmmaker Michael Moore has booked a ringside ticket, along with US presidential candidate Ralph Nader, former World Bank economist Joseph Stiglitz and Nobel prizewinner Gabriel García Márquez. A group of 69 Brazilian intellectuals, including the nation's foremost singer Chico Buarque signed a petition titled "If I was Venezuelan I would vote for Chavez". In Argentina a group of 35 legislators declared for Chavez this week, while London mayor Ken Livingstone also pledged his support.
Chavez models himself on Latin America's 19th-century liberator SimóBolívar, who rode 20,000 miles on horseback, fought 300 battles and freed Bolivia, Peru, Ecuador, Venezuela, Panama and Colombia from Spanish rule. A triumphant Bolívar drafted a constitution which emphasised civil liberties and equality before the law. President Chavez has been busy in recent weeks, racing ahead with his dream of "Bolívarian" integration, one region under one groove; he signed an oil deal linking Venezuela with Brazil and Argentina, a gas pipeline contract with Colombia and Central America and a shipbuilding deal with Argentina. The real measure of Chavez's success, however, lies in the giant open air food markets where prices are rock bottom and queues a mile long.
The opposition claims that the country enjoyed a healthy democracy until Chavez began the slide toward communist dereliction. The most prominent leader from that era was Carlos Andrés Pérez, a flamboyant statesman who served twice as president but was impeached in 1992 for diverting state funds to Nicaraguan election coffers. Pérez was rejected by voters when he tried to win a seat to the constituent assembly in 1999, and is obsessed with the overthrow of Chavez.
In a recent press interview Pérez said that Chavez "must die like a dog", and then apologised to all canines for the implicit insult. His remarks are typical of Venezuela's upper class, which looks down on the dark-skinned rabble with thinly-veiled contempt. Pérez's own hand never trembled when it came to ordering the deaths of unarmed civilians. Shortly after he was elected president in 1989, Pérez introduced an IMF austerity package, which triggered an outbreak of looting that was violently suppressed, leaving upwards of 1,000 people dead.
As oil prices plummeted and external debt payments soared, the dream of oil wealth vanished, and with it all faith in the country's democratic institutions. When Chavez was elected president oil prices languished at $9 a barrel, a figure which has more than quadrupled since.
Chavez is now the sole topic of political debate in Venezuela, while his social reform programme is the template for government and opposition alike. Opinion polls indicate that Chavez will survive the recall test. However, many Venezuelans fear that Chavez's reform programme is inciting class hatred and may lead to civil war. Chavez won a comfortable 56 per cent of votes in 1998, yet, even then, four in 10 voters rejected him. At the next election in July 2000, Chavez increased his share of the vote to 59 per cent, but high abstention levels left him with the support of just 32 per cent of eligible voters. Three million voters have since been added to the electoral register and their decision will determine the referendum result.
Chavez's political programme, radical by Latin American standards, is little more than a blueprint for a moderate welfare state. President Chavez has encouraged private investment, kept the minimum wage below inflation levels and signed an exclusive oil deal with the US government, hardly the stuff of a "rogue" leader.
When it comes to the social gains of this reform process it's the little things that count; a short while ago the official gazette informed all businesses that public toilets had to be made available to anyone who requested their use, free of charge. In a nation where most people work or live on the street, this counts as a major breakthrough.
Chavez is impulsive, picking up and discarding ideas and projects as the mood takes him, making it difficult to put any lasting shape on government policy. A master juggler and gifted strategist, Chavez has a habit of throwing one too many balls into the air, risking the collapse of his balancing act.
Venezuela enjoys the highest economic growth in the region but also suffers the highest unemployment rate. Crime is up, prices are up and wages are inadequate. Chavez supporters blame the opposition for a campaign of economic sabotage, while critics claim the Venezuelan leader has frightened off investors with his talk of revolution.
As voters enter polling booths tomorrow they must weigh up rival claims and determine the fate of a remarkable experiment which has prompted a national debate on the nature of democratic rule.