Maduro is like an anime character, agile but self-destructive

María Corina Machado is being guaidoized

Your article makes a caustic critique of “suffragism” as an electoral strategy of the traditional Venezuelan opposition.

Yes, I have been debating on social networks about the reductionist mentality of politics, common in the Venezuelan elite. In the past, the left did not share this view, but it was co-opted and dissolved. Among the elite and the middle class, which form what is known as the opposition, the idea prevails that politics is limited to “vote or bullet,” a legacy of the Betancourt and Caldera period. This conception is very limited and does not reflect a true understanding of liberalism; in fact, it is quite illiberal. In Venezuela, political representation tends to be oligarchic, not democratic, unlike the balance between representation and direct participation proposed, for example, by theorists of the American Revolution. This mentality has taken root, amplified by those who live off politics and the passivity of the middle classes. In Venezuela, even Hannah Arendt’s book ‘On Revolution’ is seen as subversive, challenging what the opposition considers the norm.

But still, only voting has allowed them to conquer political spaces.

My critique points to the reductionist view of politics, where the vote is seen as the only means of democratic participation. The democratic nature of voting does not lie in representation but in choosing who will wield power, reversing the relationship between ruler and ruled. Democracy implies that the governed governs the ruler in return, defining their scope of action.

Voting is crucial, but it is not all of politics, much less electoral campaigns. The problem is not defending the vote, but reducing all politics to it, especially to a limited and corrupt version, comparable to Miss Venezuela. In 2015, the opposition achieved a parliamentary success, but outside the electoral and institutional sphere, they were disoriented.

Chavismo, on the other hand, reacts like an anime character, taking on something unexpected, adapting and surprising, leaving the opposition astonished. For example, Ramos Allup fantasized about being president, but when Chavismo evolved into Maduroism and a dictatorship, the opposition did not know how to act beyond the electoral arena. The problem, then, is not the vote itself, but electoral reductionism.

Can we say that the traditional Venezuelan opposition is torn between two positions on the strategy to follow: “suffragism,” or the vision that seeks to build golden bridges to Maduroism to open up to democracy, and “until the end”? Expressions like the National Primary Commission, which can organize an election on the backs of volunteers, autonomously, doesn’t that point to that vision beyond the electoral that you indicate?

Sure, there’s a totally constituent part, organizing all those things, the Primary was quite beneficial for them, but that event could have transcended into greater articulation for citizens, instead of being limited to a single occasion, leaving them defenseless and disorganized afterward. Permanent committees could be created in blocks or parishes. But what predominates is that approach revealed so well in the debate they once organized: more a display of candidates in the style of ‘Miss Venezuela,’ where people simply choose from the options presented.

I believe that the Primary also surprised them. They didn’t realize the real potential of what they were doing until election day, when massive participation turned the process into a public demonstration with street gatherings. This was significant, but contrasts with their reaction to persecution by the Prosecutor’s Office. Instead of mobilizing, their first instruction to people was to stay at home.

Do you think Casal made a political mistake by asking people not to join him to the Prosecutor’s Office?

I think they communicated it very poorly, horribly: Casal could have advised caution and self-restraint, but issuing an explicit order of demobilization was a serious error. The way they formulated it was so wrong that the Prosecutor, the President, or the Minister of the Interior could have used their same words, it sounded like official jargon.

I understand, but don’t you think they were perhaps avoiding falling into a provocation?

Yes, of course, but I think they got lost in that because they see things from the perspective of fear, because there are many ways to say that with another formulation, but that expression reveals their way of seeing things, which is totally oligarchic, that is, people express themselves only by voting. In other words, to put it that way, that is a statement of practical metaphysics. They chose a very specific and clear way to discourage people, which is a significant political decision in itself.

How do you then read, as a whole, the recent electoral events, both the Primary and the referendum?

As I mentioned in my article, Maduroism demonstrates a great capacity to reinvent itself. But at the same time, it is self-destructive: in the Primary, they encountered the enormous rejection by the people and during the first few days, they were merely reactive, in what could be described as a kind of hysteria. It’s not an exaggeration to say they were hysterical. From their tyrannical perspective, they adopted desperate stances, something they theoretically should not do. But then, they showed political cunning by redirecting attention to imaginary conflicts like the one in Esequibo, reorganizing the little public sphere that remains, in a more affirmative and not reactive way. The problem presents itself in that this imaginary conflict becomes real, involving third parties that elevate the risk of the gamble, which could turn out catastrophic for them.

This led to a reformulation of the functioning of the National Electoral Council (CNE), its amorization (after Elvis Amoroso, the president of the new electoral body) and in the process of enabling candidates, creating a new, albeit potentially suicidal, political paradigm. For example, the gestures of Maduroism are interpreted differently by international actors such as the United States, Brazil, Guyana, and CARICOM. What we see as primarily gestures towards internal politics, others see as warlike threats, increasing the risk of escalation.

The announced visit to Moscow, for instance, is baffling and seems an unnecessary provocation, especially after the Barbados agreement less than two months ago.

Regarding the political paradigm shift you mentioned, which involves a new CNE, what does it outline for the electorate next year?

My hypothesis, because unlike political scientists, I have hypotheses, I don’t believe I’m necessarily right, but one submits their thesis to experience to verify it, is that by declaring an exaggerated, implausible electoral participation in the referendum, the government is making a statement about its control over the electoral apparatus. If we combine disciplines like semiology and political sociology, we understand that there’s a significant change. The new CNE, for example, is completely different from the previous ones in that it is not dedicated to counting votes, but to issuing slogans. For the new CNE, votes are secondary.

However, Maduro’s regime, although more adaptable and organized than the opposition, finds itself in a vulnerable position, tying its fate to a highly unpopular candidacy, and with its resistance to any form of alternation in power. There are many ways in which an organization can preserve power, even with alternation, as in Iran. But Maduro resists any type of internal change or apparent alternation, like the one practiced by Mexico with the PRI or in Venezuela during Gómez’s time.

Despite his political skill, Maduro is wasting his advantage by clinging to power. He finds himself trapped in a logic of constant acceleration and risk, unlike Chávez, who knew how to manage the pace, alternating between acceleration and pause, radicalization, and moderation. But Chávez had popularity and resources, whereas Maduro lacks both.

This situation has led him into dead ends, like the Esequibo issue, which is a problem within a bigger problem: his paranoia of not delegating or negotiating power, even within Chavismo. And this Esequibo adventure, which neighboring countries are taking very seriously, has now become a threat to his power.

However, in your article, you say that Maduroism has everything tied up: the electoral authority, the candidates, the electoral system, but recent events suggest that they lack the popular will: people did not participate in the referendum and voted against in the primary…

Exactly, you’re highlighting two key points. First, something that Machiavelli had already discovered: the common people’s political sense is often superior to that of the elites. Common people understand that voting or abstaining is a pragmatic decision, not an absolute moral principle. That’s why they have alternated between voting and abstaining depending on the situation. When voting served to express their rejection, both of the opposition aligned with Maduro and of Maduro himself, they participated. But when they realized that Maduro wanted to use their participation in the Referendum as a demonstration of support, they abstained, perfectly reading his intention to herd them like cattle. This simple understanding of political dynamics is often lacking in Venezuelan political analysis and is rare among our political scientists.

Secondly, despite having control over key elements that make up the political space, Maduro has not managed to secure the support of the people. He could have done so by being more flexible, allowing someone less unpopular to take the lead: there are many ways to maintain power without being directly subjected. However, in Chavismo, it seems that leadership is something that cannot be let go of; it’s like holding a painting that cannot be nailed to the wall. Whoever holds it must do so until the end because if they let go, it will be taken away. I don’t know if it’s really necessary for their politics, but clearly they believe it is.

It’s because they’ve seen what happened, for example in Ecuador, when Correa handed over the painting for someone else to hold.

Yes, that’s true. Because Rafael Correa in Ecuador did not have total control over institutions, and by contrast, in the mentality of Chavismo, non-alternation in power is fundamental. For them, losing power is synonymous with political death. Moreover, many have committed irreversible actions from which they cannot escape and for which they might have to answer, linked to international human rights violations, putting them in a dead end. If Maduro had allowed another Chavista leader to win in 2018, he probably would have relieved many tensions.

What scenario can be foreseen for the next election?

I don’t know, but what stands out is their approach in absolute terms: if for the opposition it is to vote or not to vote, for them it is to rule or not to rule. Maduroism is incredibly intelligent in maintaining power, and incredibly clumsy in designing a sustainable political regime.

In that sense, you talk about the uncertainty that opens up due to the people’s reaction to facing 6 more years of Maduro.

I’m not speculating about a major rebellion, although that is certainly possible. History is full of examples where an additional straw on the load they bear triggers a massive confrontation against a government. However, the most likely response is a massive wave of migration, complicating the situation across the continent.

The key point is Maduro’s unpopularity. Despite his control over the situation, no one can predict how a country forced to endure an extremely unpopular president will react. This is indeterminate due to three factors: Maduro’s unpopularity, the feeling of imposition, and the perception that this imposition will only worsen living conditions. Various insurrectional expressions might emerge, in addition to massive migration, in the weeks and months following, tending to further complicate the situation.

Nicaraguan Scenario?

Venezuelan society is much more complex than Nicaraguan society, but if Maduro manages to get reelected, it will be at the cost of simplifying and further weakening Venezuelan society, which will likely manifest in terms of people migrating and significant demographic changes. However, no one can be certain of what might happen.

What is the dilemma facing the grassroots of the PSUV (United Socialist Party of Venezuela) today?

The fundamental dilemma facing the PSUV base is between preserving Chavismo or preserving Maduro. Chavismo doesn’t necessarily have to link its fate to Maduro. They could also consider whether Chavismo needs to be constantly in a struggle to impose itself on the rest of society. Although the average Chavista may have a ‘fight to the death’ mentality, which is problematic, Chavismo faces the same dilemma as the rest of the country: why commit its future to an unpopular candidate?

Now, how Chavistas can express their discontent or even pose this dilemma is another question. What channels do they have to communicate their disagreement? Within Chavismo, everything becomes a division between friends and enemies, and for a radical Chavista, anyone who is not a Chavista is an enemy. Thus, they face two dualities: preserving Chavismo or renouncing power, and how they manage this internally is unknown. They must consider whether it is more important to support Maduro against enemies or to recognize the disadvantages of his leadership. If they value the collective fate of Chavismo more than Maduro’s, how can they express this?

The problem is that Chavismo is Caesarist, revolving around a figure. They don’t have a central committee, but a leader. It would be interesting to see if Chavistas are considering this dilemma between preserving Chavismo or Maduro and, if so, how they might express their doubts or seek change.

But in the traditional opposition, the duality is no less dramatic…

María Corina’s victory ironically represents a kind of democratic triumph. It was a rejection of both Maduroism and the collaborationist opposition. Initially, the only candidate working to build an effective organization was Caleca, and Tamara Adrián’s candidacy was interesting but failed to transcend her activist role. María Corina, on the other hand, stood firm in her rejection of cohabitation and managed to connect with poor women and the aspiration to return to normality, to reverse the migratory exodus, building a Venezuelan-style leadership with a good following, but not necessarily structured, around the slogan “until the end.” This seemed well thought out because it overturned the folly of setting deadlines: the idea that Maduro would leave on January 3, Chávez on March 4, in two hours, a folly that exhausted them, and the 25 years of Chavismo summed up all the short terms of the opposition. She placed this effort “until the end,” which implies not stopping until things change, and this helped her mobilize and build leadership, which is no small feat.

Now she seems to have adopted a more centrist discourse, similar to Capriles’, which is unsettling and even comical. She talks about depending on international forces, a discredited thesis in Venezuela. Although intelligent and charismatic, María Corina tends to be more a candidate than an organizer. She has created an effective following, but it remains to be seen if she can be an organizer of human action, like Moody, Evo Morales, Martin Luther King, Hitler, Lenin, or Betancourt: someone who creates political technologies, organizes, articulates—especially important when enabling mechanisms are designed to exclude her and where the international community seems powerless to change this situation.

Before Maduro went crazy with the Guyana issue, it seemed that the world was more interested in buying Venezuelan oil and deporting Venezuelans from their countries. There appeared to be a general acceptance of temporarily regularizing Maduro. In this international context, María Corina now has to move in a terrain of deep politics, of articulating human desire, so critical in the Venezuelan crisis, that is, doing what she herself mentions but does not do, which is to build strength.

What options does the traditional opposition have if their candidate is not enabled?

It’s not clear. Perhaps it’s too early to say. Obviously, they will continue to harass her, destroy the little political structure she has, her entire environment, limit her until she ends up like Guaidó, who was like a head without a body, except for the real assets, which he controlled and went to the accounts of his friends from Voluntad Popular. I imagine they will ‘guaidoize’ María Corina.

At this moment, there is much uncertainty. The main argument against Maduro continues to be his insistence on clinging to power at all costs. This should serve as a wake-up call for people to start trusting themselves more than a political leadership and an intellectual elite that so far has not proven effective.

Analyzing the polls, because we won’t have hard numbers from the referendum, one can deduce that there is a Chavista base that is not with Maduro but also does not find expression in anything proposed by the opposition. What happens with these people?

These people are in limbo. To have an effective voice, they need to articulate clear demands, a coherent discourse, a form of organization, and defined leaderships. This group has always been weak and faces problems similar to the opposition, being representatives of equally kleptocratic elites. Figures like Barreto or Rafael Ramírez, who tend to be the faces of dissenting Chavismo, are not exactly inspiring. We never see new leaders emerging from this group, such as a peasant leader from Guárico or a community leader from Catia, who could have a significant impact. Dissident Chavismo has always been elitist and oligarchic in this sense: it has never managed to generate a genuine expression of discontent from its perspective of fallen Chavista elites. Examples like Jaua, who suddenly discover ‘radical democracy’, lack credibility. What remains to be seen are authentic expressions from the base of Chavismo, or intermediate leaderships that really do not support Maduro. If the representation of this dissenting Chavismo falls on figures like Lacava or similar historical leaders, it is unlikely that they will resonate beyond their own audience.

You spoke of the “hysterical reactions” of Maduroism to electoral defeats, usually followed by a wave of repression. Are we facing a hysterical reaction?

No, this is something else. They had a hysterical reaction as a consequence of the Primary because they didn’t expect it. Then they reinvented themselves with the Esequibo issue, catching everyone by surprise, and that was great for regaining political initiative, but when it began to take shape, it turned horrible, and what we’re seeing today does have some hysteria because they feel very threatened, but it goes beyond: this is the beginning of a campaign to dismantle MCM’s leadership, to disassemble all types of opposition, and even to coerce all critical thinking.

Maduroism foresees: they dismantle oppositions in advance, whatever their expression. We saw it with the FAES, which sought with its massacres to terrorize the neighborhoods in anticipation of their protests. This onslaught seeks, in addition to isolating María Corina, to intimidate: like any violent act of any mammal, or any animal, it is also spectacular: it seeks to show strength while pre-emptively striking in all those places where they know they can find resistance. Contrary to the repression against the members of the Primary Commission, which was more reactive, this is another level, calculated and well thought out to sow terror.