by Pablo Vivanco, for Barrio Nuevo
It was the 13th of April, 2011. Thousands of people were flooding the streets of Caracas, making their way towards Miraflores, the Presidential Palace reserved for the President to operate from. Just months after torrential rains destroyed hundreds of homes in the barrios, the Venezuelan President had ordered that those without homes be provided shelter in Government Ministry buildings, including Miraflores.
Nine years prior, thousands of people also descended onto Miraflores, but for a different purpose. The came from all over Caracas after learning that their President, Hugo Chávez, had been kidnapped in a coup organized by the military, economic and religious elite in the country with the support of Washington. The people, along with the vast majority of lower rank military, resisted the coup on the streets and forced a return of Chávez barely 72 hours after the coup began.
But on this day in April 2011, the people didn’t have the gates to Miraflores closed to them. They weren’t confronted with tanks and snipers. The gates were open to welcome a sea of red and green in the streets – red, the signature colour of the Bolivarian Revolution and green, the colour of the fatigues worn by the thousands of peoples militias on hand to celebrate the 9th anniversary of the popular victory over the fascist coup.
In the heavy rain, people danced, sang and chanted slogans undeterred and unbothered by the weather. The crowd, which included high-ranking military and Cabinet members including current Vice President Nicolas Maduro moved and mingled without the slightest tinge of formality. Indeed, it was perfect chaos.
About 45 minutes into this, with now hundreds of thousands in the streets, President Chávez came out to a deafening roar. In Canada and other places, the media ascribes those in the crowds like this with condescending terms – ‘followers’, ‘devotees’ and other terms which ascribe religious connotations of fanaticism. To Chávez, they say even worse things – strongman, dictator, ruler or virtually anything other that what he actually is – the elected President and the leader and spokesman of a movement.
That day, in that crowd, as I swayed with the music and the mass of bodies crowding towards the stage, I saw how false both those labels were. I saw Chávez converse with the crowd, responding to questions and comments while urging the people and organized movements to take greater control of the revolution in its trajectory towards socialism. I heard the crowd providing feedback to him, even sometimes vocally contradicting statements that he made (including those about a comedian, who many in the crowd thought was a right-winger. Chávez responded that he still considered the comedian to be funny). The relationship between Chávez and his supporters was clear – it wasn’t Chávez who acted like the people and country belonged to him, but rather the people who believed the country and the President belonged to them.
The reason for Chávez’s support and the participation of the Venezuelan people in the Bolivarian revolution are a mystery to no one actually willing to honestly assess Venezuela over the last fifteen years. Tens of billions of dollars invested in poor and working class neighbourhoods, particularly in areas of health and education, eradication of illiteracy, subsidized super markets, hundreds of thousands of homes for poor, worker run factories, funds for the 60 000 cooperatives and over 35 000 Communal Councils among the incredibly long list of investment and achievements in Venezuela since 1998.
On the international stage, Chávez was likely the first (and perhaps only) world leader to oppose the bombing of Afghanistan in response to 9/11, as well as a vocal opponent to the war in Iraq and a strong advocate of Palestinians. In Latin America, Chávez was the only opponent to the Free Trade Area of the Americas in the 2001 Quebec summit and then spearheaded attempts to break with US Hegemony in the region, pushing for solidarity based regional integration initiative like ALBA, Petrocaribe and later, UNASUR. His support base extended well beyond the Venezuelan borders.
On March 5th, 2013, Hugo Rafael Chávez Frias, the second of seven children born to working-class parents, lost his two-year battle with cancer, just four months after winning his 4th Presidential election. Without a doubt, this represents a great loss for the Venezuelan people and for anyone who has rightfully drawn inspiration from the Bolivarian Revolution under his leadership.
While the enemies of the people and their media mouthpieces rejoice, we should remind them that the mark of this extraordinary human and revolutionary will remain in the spirit of the Venezuelan people and in all those who will continue the fight against injustice and imperialism while carving the path of socialist revolution. Rest in peace comandante and know that we will not.
