VENEZUELA:It was approaching midnight and something was wrong at Miraflores Palace. Thousands of people in red T-shirts were gathered below the balcony waiting for Hugo Chávez, waiting for another victory, but the hours dragged by and he did not appear.
Rory Carroll in Caracas
This had been the scene of his every triumph since 1998. The president would appear on the balcony, salute the country and proclaim another leap forward in the revolution. The throng would explode in joy and celebrate until dawn. Not this time.
At 1.20am the script changed. Election officials appeared on television to announce that the proposal to change the constitution had been defeated. Chávez had lost.
The crowd collapsed into stunned silence. Some began to sob. The leader, a man with an almost mystical connection to el pueblo, the people, had been rejected. "How?" cried one woman. From the Caribbean to the Amazon and the Andes, television sets glowed and everybody asked the same question.
This was supposed to be the night Chavez won a sweeping endorsement to change the constitution so he could run for continuous re-election and lead South America's oil giant towards what he termed "21st-century socialism".
Instead, it shattered his invincibility and slammed the brakes on his revolution. His formidable state-funded electoral machine was beaten by a ragtag coalition of students, minnow political parties and defectors from his own movement. They had persuaded soft chavistas - people who like the president but are wary of his radicalism - that he was moving too far, too fast.
As the crowds melted into the night, middle-class areas of Caracas erupted in jubilation. Housewives leaned out of windows banging pots, cavalcades of cars honked horns and couples danced salsa in the streets. "Unbelievable! We won! My God, we won!" shouted one man. A significant minority of Venezuelans loathe Chavez. They call him a demagogue, a dictator and worse, but never before had they been able to call him a loser.
The president had declared the referendum a plebiscite on his own rule. "A vote against the reform is a vote against Chávez," he had said. By Venezuelan standards turnout was low, just 55 per cent, and the margin was razor-thin, 51 per cent against the changes, 49 per cent in favour.
It was a severe blow, but far from a knockout. Chávez has five years left at the helm of a government awash with oil revenue. He controls most institutions of state and can rule by decree. And he has mesmerising political talent.
It was on display moments after election officials announced the result. Instead of a triumphant balcony address he sat behind a desk in Miraflores and, in a live broadcast, conceded defeat.
"I thank you and I congratulate you," Chávez said, addressing his opponents. "I recognise the decision a people has made. Those of you who were nervous I wouldn't recognise the results, you can go home quietly and celebrate."
The conciliatory tone was a seamless change of gear from campaign rhetoric which had denounced opponents as "fascists", "traitors" and "mental retards".